There was hope for me then. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. They lived in a castle, the same place she had been turned in.
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