Thursday, 22 March 2018

7 Shades of Sin- A Cardinal's Nightmare Begins!


This Novella has one illustration per chapter - some are quite sensual! 
Be warned, for Conte Lodovico de' Medici, is a man given to coarse language. I hasten to add, this not an erotic story, it is a sensual romance!


Premise:

“...It would be unforgiveable for him to break his oath...”

Presented with a dreadful and frightening fait accompli, the Contessa de’ Medici is ordered to commit to a shameful act to beget an heir to her husband’s fortune. In defiance of the laws of the church and the sanctity of marriage, her husband has determined only one direct de’ Medici bloodline is acceptable. Fearful she can never lure her husband’s chosen man to her bed, she seeks to deceive him. But war comes to Italy, scandal rocks the foundations of the nearby village, dark secrets are unveiled, and Portia is finally blessed with true love.





One
~
Italy: September 1796.
~
She spied him standing peering out through the arched window; the swish of her glorious silk skirts announcing her presence as she entered his domain. Tension in Lodovico’s bearing was tangible for one so self-assured, and so very handsome. He was the epitome of a true aristocrat; attired in dark blue silk frock coat with embroidered silver thread, pale blue pantaloons, and lace at his cuffs. He was also the man she could have loved with all her heart, not merely accepting of her fate, but perfection of marriage was never meant to be. To all intents and purposes he was one of the most desirable men to grace salons and ballrooms, but he was not as others imagined him. Already ill at ease when summoned to his suite she sensed a day of reckoning; sensed he was plotting her demise.
    “You wished my attendance, immediate of summons, thus I beg pardon, for I am inappropriately dressed for audience with you.”
     When he turned she feared the worst, his furrowed brow implied frustrations and ill humour. “The time has come for confession, Portia.”
    He paused, a pained expression, something she had never witnessed before, thus she braved the moment: “Who is to confess, for I have nothing weighing on my conscience.”
   “Albeit our marriage was agreed by contract, I left you in no doubt on the wedding eve our marriage would never become a romantic affair. Despite your undoubted hope love would blossom in due course I have never lied to you. Mere familial affection was all that could develop for my part.”
    This was the Lodovico she knew so well; the cold, the insensitive, the cruel of tongue, the man other women lauded as beautiful, the man who bowed with grace and flair to female adoration, the man who would sneak away, not in company with one of the many glittering chits or dames who fawned over him, he was a man who whored in ways most women would recoil from in disgust.
    “It pains me to confess Portia, for whilst I have never desired you as a husband or lover should, time and time again I have fucked you to no avail. Am I correct in thinking there is no news for me, that you are barren still? I need an heir Portia, and if you cannot fulfil that role then the marriage will be annulled. You must swear to an affidavit you refused my loving attentions, and I, in all loving kindness did not force myself upon you.”
    She dared not agree to the notion. If she committed to such a terrible lie her brothers would kill Lodovico, aristocrat or no aristocrat: it was their way. “How then could I, in all honesty, declare I am pure to another man who may ask for my hand in marriage? You stole my virginity.”
    A smile flickered, his dark eyes glittering as though recalling that precise marital act. “I had a notion you would be less than compliant to that arrangement. Nor can I say I wish to engage in all the pomp of another wedding, a wedding in which my bride may not be near as pleasing as you in beauty, nor of amenable countenance when my dark passion is revealed.”
    He twitched the lower frill of his neck cloth, the diamond pin sparkling. One eyebrow arched, his dark handsomeness and smouldering brown eyes utterly breath stealing.
    “There are three solutions, annulment, murder, or another means in which you will remain here, as my wife, and retain your title. God willing you will bear a son, a son of the blood. Anything less than a de’ Medici, will be unacceptable, therefore your selecting a lover at will is out of the question.” He stepped forward, cupped her left cheek and gently caressed it with his thumb as never before. “Not only do you have proof to thwart annulment if you choose to do so, I would rather not soil my hands with a bloody deed of murder most foul.” Leaning forward, fragrance of jasmine permeated as he kissed where his thumb had caressed. “I am truly fond of you in my own way, and would grieve your loss Aside from that, I fear it is I who may be at fault in the delicate, or should I say; the vigorous matter of man spilling viable seed?”
   Was he that averse to the begetting of another wife? “Whom do you wish me to lie abed with, for that is what you are proposing, is it not?”
    “But of course, and Vincenzo is of the same direct bloodline.”
    “He will never agree to it.”
    Laughter befell him: “Not if I asked him outright; that is true. But my sweet Portia, you damn near charm every man you have encountered since becoming that of my wife.” He cast a smile, a chilled remote smile she knew so well. “I am loath to admit fucking you is a pleasurable experience in itself, when you dress as I dictate; though sorely lacking the spice of third party pleasure by your hands. Therefore I am obliged to engage another to fulfil that task.”
    The hurt of his rejection welled and it should not since she had cast notions of love aside long ago. But tears nonetheless began stinging her lower eyelids, her thoughts reeling, as on that first day when he had insisted she wear silk pantaloons and dress as a boy page.
   She could not contemplate seduction of Vincenzo. It was too much to ask. “You may as well strangle me, here and now, for I cannot foresee your brother succumbing to illicit tease of any kind. Besides, I have never set eyes on him, nor he of me, and we may dislike one another.”
    My tastes are somewhat obscene in pleasure, my lovely, and not for the company of a sweet girl as you are. Be assured Vincenzo was once a virile young man given to hedonistic pleasures of the flesh with ladies. I wager you will be far from disappointed on meeting him. He has oft claimed within letters, to the effect his abode in Naples is pleasing, but there are times he wishes he could dispense with the pomp and the entourage who hound his heels wherever he goes. I therefore dispatched a letter in reference to my venturing to Venice for several months. It seemed as good a time as any to invite him to take a sabbatical from duties in the knowledge he is to leave his post and return to Roma shortly. Such occurs when Papal edict must be obeyed, and so thrilled was Vincenzo to partake of solitude in the villa of his birth en route, he will be arriving in a day or so. I failed to mention my beautiful wife would also be here, but once he is aware of your presence he will settle in companionship with you. And you must seek pastoral guidance from him and in doing so seduce his mind. Seduction of his body will follow, for I too will leave a letter for him, one to be opened four days after his arrival.”
   “You cannot ask this of me; or of Vincenzo. It would be unforgiveable for him to break his oath.”
    Lodovico threw his hands in the air, his lace cuffs fluttering in like to doves wings whilst he gestured in theatrical show of looking to the heavens. “Against the Almighty’s edict, my brother was a veritable stud in his youth, afore he— No I cannot bring myself to mention his foolhardiness which led him to seek retreat from the grand salons of Italy.” Hands lowered to his hips, Lodovico laughed. “The papal office he now graces with false fervour is as far removed from the passionate womaniser he once was, as I am one of God’s children.”
     “But you are; we are all God’s children.”
   “Not I, Portia, not I; for I am damned to dwell in hell when my time comes, as Father Angelo predicted; that is, if I am fortunate enough to escape being dragged to the fires of Hades beforehand, the greater hell of which my brother will surely have a hand in if he truly has sold his soul to the church.”
   “Does not your analogy of eternal purgatory tell you how wrong it would be if I were to lie abed with your brother? Presupposing I could ever tempt him to oblige your plan. Think of him and think of what you are asking.”
   “I have thought of nothing else for months, and it is the best way to resolve the dilemma facing us. For we cannot deny it is you, or it is me who cannot provide the necessary heir. You have to do this Portia, for both our sakes. If you fall with child I beget the heir I need, and I shall love you as the mother of the child. If you fail me, then it is the end for us.”
   “Can we try it one more time?”
   He reached out and cupped her face with both hands. “It is too late, for I will be away from here by sun up on the morrow.” To her utter astonishment he lowered his head and kissed her lips. “Charm him with enticing gowns and portray me as dark as I am.” Lodovico relinquished his hold upon her, stepped back, and chuckled. “He is what he is, and beneath his cassock lies a golden chalice, I know it for sure, the evidence is six years of age.”
   “He has a child?”
   “He knows not of the boy’s existence. Another man was claimed the father by the mother.”
   “A boy; but what if I give birth to a girl?”
   “Then Vincenzo will oblige you again, else I shall call him out to account for his devilry.”
   “But that would mean his banishment from Holy Roman office, and the two of you would be forced to engage in a dual.”
   “He will succumb if you touch his heart with the knowledge that if you fail to provide me with a son I will be rid of you most foul. He will not doubt your word. Vincenzo knows perfectly well I am a cold-hearted bastard though he denies it as best he can.”
    “Not so very cold, in that you are prepared to accept a son from his loins and claim it as yours.”
    “Perché ti sono affeziomato,” whispered Lodovico, in placing a kiss to her brow.
    “You have always been gentle with me, that I cannot deny, your coldness your shield to prevent my falling in love you, as I surely would have.”
   “Have you not, a little?” He shrugged, tugged at his lace cuff. “No, no, why would you, with a heartless husband such as this debauched male?” He laughed. “Our learned priest, Father Angelo, looks at me with a considered eye, sure in mind I am the devil incarnate. Alas, to his chagrin, his cleansing ways failed in my case. Be warned he is the very same man of the cloth who warned Vincenzo his lustful ways would be his end, unless he sought a penitent life to redeem his soul.”
    “Was he so lustful Father Angelo felt it pertinent to save him?”
    “Vincenzo fell ill with a terrible fever, and it was thought he would die. Father Angelo paid visit to perform the sacraments of the Anointing of the Sick. The next day the fever broke and Vincenzo refused to accommodate those already mourning his passing. Several days later Father Angelo told my brother lust had brought about his ill health; and of course, God had granted him life, a life in which he must repay in service to the church and abandon women. Part in fear the fever would return, and like as not snatch him away to the fire pits of hell for his licentiousness, my brother avowed to mend his ways. Mother encouraged him and forgave him his sins, whilst I indulged in greater sins.”
    “Your edict will turn me into a temptress, and how am I to seek forgiveness if Vincenzo succumbs to my charms?”
   “He will absolve your guilt in the name of God, the all forgiving of an innocent wife forced to oblige a wicked husband. Aside from which, you will undoubtedly fall in love with him.”
    “Why would I?
    “You will see soon enough. Now, be off with you, for I am expecting a visitor shortly.”
    As she hitched up the front of her gown, turned, and walked through the doorway her mind began whirling in a maelstrom of emotions; the polished reflective marble floor thus displaying her dainty feet and ankles. Could she truly tempt Vincenzo, and what if she fell in love with him?


2 comments:

  1. Thoroughly entertaining story. Enjoyed it.

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    1. Good to hear. Thank you! I enjoyed writing it because it was bit different from the norm. ;)

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