In Bed With Lord Byron

in jail? I figured they didn’t bother with trials. I
also figured that their jails were pretty grim.
    Oh God, think of something, Lucy, quick, think.
    ‘As a matter of fact,’ I improvised wildly, ‘as a matter of fact, I
am
an astrologer!’
    Duke Ludovico looked startled. He made a gesture and the guards stopped about a foot away from me.
    Of course, if in the twenty-first century you announce that you’re an astrologer, people give you weird looks and immediately assume that you’re some floaty New Age idiot who
believes their horoscope and likes hugging trees.
    But in the fifteenth century things were quite different. Astrology was serious stuff. Look at all the references in Shakespeare’s plays: the omens in
Macbeth
, the debates in
Julius Caesar
. Many people seriously believed that the macrocosm of the stars influenced the microcosm of men’s lives.
    ‘An astrologer, you say?’ Duke Ludovico put his head to one side. ‘Well, let’s see how skilled you really are. Tell me what you know about me, and my future.’
    ‘Well . . . ah . . .’
    Nice one, Lucy. Now what do you say?
    Leonardo was staring at me with big, scared eyes. The Duke stroked his chin with his forefinger. I trembled, and sweated, and stuttered. The Duke shook his head, let out a
‘
Pff!’
of frustration, and waved at his guards to take me away. As I backed up, I suddenly felt my
Idiot’s Guide to da Vinci
, lodged in my tunic, scrape against my
hipbone.
    ‘Wait!’ I cried. ‘I can tell you your future, in great detail, but first you must allow me to consult my book of magic and . . . er, magery. I have seen portents about you,
Duke Ludovico, but now I must consult my sacred text to interpret them.’
    The Duke frowned suspiciously, then nodded, with a dubious sneer on his face, as though relishing a few more moments’ entertainment before he threw me in the cells.
    Ignoring Leonardo’s frantic glances, I went over to a corner of the room and surreptitiously pulled out the book. I hastily flicked through the index, found L for Ludovico, and read the
entry.
    Tucking the book back into my tunic, I walked grandly back to the centre of the room and turned to face the Duke, trying to compose my features into an expression of profundity and
mysticism.
    ‘Duke Ludovico,’ I said gravely, ‘though you are married to Beatrice, you currently have a lover, a girl you see in secret. She is eighteen years old, and her name is Cecilia.
She is about to become pregnant with your child. The portents show that you should commission Leonardo to paint her portrait, clutching her pet ermine.’
    Though I have no doubt that many people in the court knew of the Duke’s goings-on, they feigned cries of outrage and amazement. Leonardo looked even more frantic.
    If the Duke hadn’t been so shocked, he might well have managed to bluster and cry, ‘Who? Me? With an eighteen-year-old girl? Don’t be
ridiculous
!’ But he was taken
aback and he let slip the fatal words, ‘How did you
know
?’
    The court fell silent, all eyes on him.
    ‘Well,’ he blustered, ‘I admit there is some truth in your words.’ The court rippled with gossipy whispers; all eyes turned back to me, no longer ugly with disdain but
shining with awe.
    ‘You are right,’ said the Duke. I think he was more keen than ever to throw me into jail, but realised he would be rather unpopular if he did so. With a certain amount of effort, he
assumed a graceful smile and said, ‘Signor da Liza, I would like to make you my official astrologer. From now on you can do my readings on a daily basis.’
    Oh God, no, I thought wildly, you’ve only a small entry in
The Idiot’s Guide to da Vinci
. I’ll soon run out of ammunition.
    ‘I cannot,’ I said hastily, ‘for I am committed to working with Leonardo. I am his apprentice; this is my calling.’ Then, seeing the Duke’s face, I said quickly,
‘But perhaps I could, from time to time, give you a reading, and in the mean time I can see in the stars that it is most important that you give Leonardo a
very
large commission for
painting
Lady with an Ermine
.’
    Back at the studio, Leonardo and I whooped and hugged and kissed in glee. We had a big celebration and got madly drunk. Leonardo, blushing a little, offered to play his lute.
It was beautiful, like listening to some exotic, exquisite bird singing the start of a new morning. I tried to have a go, but I was too blurry with drink and my efforts made Leonardo