Signor Sforza took hold of her elbow and pulled her closer to his side. Ravenna stiffened as he shifted her to face him. He tapped her chin, a silent request for her to look up at him.
She needed more time, and her mind worked frantically to find a way to distract him from his pursuit. Saturnino’s face swam in her mind, the tension bracketing his mouth when he talked of the shifting alliances Florence faced.
“I hear you have an artist working on a secret invention,” she said.
Signor Sforza’s touch turned bruising; he gripped her chin hard and forced her head back. Ravenna gasped but remained still. An animal instinct warned her not to fight, that it would only draw his ire and suspicion.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked coldly.
Ravenna swallowed. “There’s been chatter about an impending war. It frightens me.”
“Be specific. Where and when did you hear this?” he asked again.
“While dancing with Saturnino,” she said truthfully. “He seems to think Florence needs every ally they can secure against Rome.”
He narrowed his gaze. “He said all this to you?”
“Is he wrong?”
“No,” Signor Sforza replied slowly. “But I’m surprised he would talk to you openly of politics. You are just an artist, aren’t you? A sculptor by trade?”
“Just an artist,” Ravenna repeated, trying but failing to keep her tone nonchalant. “Artists can’t have political opinions? A say about what happens in their community? Thoughts on war?”
“Are you saying that you have them?”
Now that she’d successfully brought him to the bridge, she didn’t care about being coy. Anger flowed in her veins; it had filled her ever since she’d heard him speak in the garden. She couldn’t be seen or heard then; she had to be invisible.
But she would be heard now.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” Ravenna said, her voice shaking with emotion. “But as an artist, my job is to capture humanity in all its forms: at war, at home, out working in the fields, in a studio, hands held out in worship and supplication. Humanity is wistful, yearning, hopeful, growing. Art can work like a mirror, reflecting who we are at any given moment. Creativity is conversation and movement. It is not stagnant.”
The Duke of Milan’s lip curled. “I don’t like my women to have opinions.”
Ravenna tilted her chin up. “I’m not yours andneverwill be.”
Signor Sforza stepped closer to her, dark gaze narrowing. He kept his face carefully neutral, but a subtle note of menace punctuated his stance. “What else has Cavaliere Saturnino shared with you?”
“Nothing else.”
His eyes dropped to the smooth curve of Ravenna’s neck, where her pulse leaped. “He hasn’t mentioned what kind of invention Leonardo da Vinci is working on?”
“No, nothing,” Ravenna said. “But he’sjust an artist, isn’t he? A painter, I believe?”
His lips twisted in an appreciative smile. “You’re a lot smarter than you look. He’s much more than that.” There was a curious note to his voice, one Ravenna couldn’t easily define. Signor Sforza seemed almost… wary. As if he were holding an unpleasant memory in his thoughts. He straightened away from her, and the air of menace dissipated. His manner turned assessing. “What is Saturnino to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“He might say you don’t belong to him, but that’s not how heacts.He’s made it very clear to me that I’m to keep my hands off you,” he said. “It’s curious. I’ve never known him to behave so possessively.”
She almost laughed. This ally of the Medici family had it all backward. “If that’s true, then what are you doing here?”
He leaned forward, eyes glittering in the moonlight. “What areyou?”
“I don’t belong to him, either.”
“He seems to think so,” Signor Sforza countered. He reached out suddenly, taking hold of her arms, and then yanked her forward. “But I have a better question for you, Signorina Ravenna.” The carriage suddenly lurched forward, hurtling past them, and then made its way off the bridge. Signor Sforza gaped at it before focusing his attention onto her. His lips were close to hers, his breath against her. “Why did you lure me out here?”
His fingers dug into her sleeves, hard, painfully. He shook her once, twice.
