“Well,” Sophie said teasingly, tucking her arm through Charlotte’s elbow and drawing her toward the door, “it will be a great sacrifice, of course. Braddon undoubtedly plans to propose at least three or four times during the coming month, and woe is me if he turns his attentions to another. My mother, for one, would be furious—” she chattered on. But when they were climbing the stairs, Sophie said casually that it would be a sound test of Braddon’s affections if he didn’t see her for at least two months. And Charlotte’s heart lifted, warmth creeping into the empty space left by her tears.

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

In fact, Alex knew nothing of the Tatler article. At the very moment when Charlotte was sobbing over his absence, he was involved in an animated argument over the relative merits of a certain year of vin santo, a strong Italian wine. Yet even as he agreed with the owner of a little bar that this particular vin santo was very strong but not too strong, and disagreed with him over the merits of adding a touch of pepper, he was thinking of Charlotte. When Signor Tonarelli finally stopped talking and bustled into the room behind his counter to fetch the famous “package,” Alex found himself thinking not about the extended chase which this package had led him over the last five months, but of his wife’s lovely, slim legs. He fancied they were particularly beautiful above the knees. When she lay on her side, he would run his hand slowly, slowly up the perfect slow curve, over the little bump of her hip, his thumb falling inside and teasing the delicate hollow that lay just over her hipbone.

Alex stared absently at the wooden shelves that lined the back of Bar Luce, the only restaurant, so to speak, for miles. He had found his way up to this little Italian village only after months of inquiry. Slowly he had traveled through the countryside and finally up the mountain, tracing the path of a weary old Frenchman. Where the man had been going before he died in this little village, Alex had no idea. Signor Tonarelli claimed to have never seen him before.

Mario Tonarelli came back out of his inner room, clutching a small, grungy bundle.

“Grazie! Grazie mille,” Alex said enthusiastically.