‘Signore Spinelli requested a likeness,’ Mamma Lucrezia answered, taking the small portrait from her husband. ‘You have such a pretty face; how could we not send one?’ She sighed with obvious frustration and turned it around so Luna could see.

It was very odd to gaze upon herself. The painter had caught something of Luna in the flatness. She sat in her finery, the tiny, delicate strokes making the lace edges quiver where her arm rested, a book in one hand, her hair richly coloured and silken, her skin perfectly pale. Her painted eyes gazed out with astonishing familiarity. Luna hadn’t expected to see herself so completely. Then she noticed two dainty pointed shoes peeking out from the hem of her gown.

‘Why am I painted in ladies’ shoes?’

‘You appear very pleasing to the eye,’ Maria murmured and Luna exchanged a grateful smile with her sister.

Pippo giggled. ‘Luna can’t wear girls’ shoes!’

‘No, I cannot,’ Luna added in a dour tone.

‘Enough, Leonarda!’ Mamma Lucrezia shot her a warning glance, but Luna was too angry to heed it.

She turned to her father once more. ‘Papa, you have not answered me.’ But Luna knew the answer: no one wanted a cripple for a wife, and that was why he’d had her painted so perfectly. ‘Do I shame you so unbearably?’ she cried.

‘Remember your place,’ he said.

Her eyes stung. ‘What place?’ she shouted. ‘Please tell me, as I do not know where my place is in this family any more.’

‘You test me, Luna. You speak as my equal but you are not.’

‘This is how you taught me to be, Papa!’

‘Chastity, piety and, most importantly, modesty; these are the virtues I had hoped to instil in you, not arrogance, though it appears that is what you are known for. Signore Spinelli had heard whispers about your temperament even before your latest tirade at the cathedral. He did not want to bring a wilful bride into his household, and how could I disagree, especially as their son is a simpleton. I could not convince him otherwise.’

‘You would wed me to a simpleton?’ Luna could hardly believe it.

‘Signore Spinelli promised me compensation for his son’s deficiencies, and the boy would have been an easy husband to manage—and kind enough.’

‘At least now you must see the harm of your indulgence of Leonarda,’ Mamma Lucrezia said to her husband whilst frowning at Luna. ‘Perhaps you will listen to my advice, for there is still more that could be damaged by her outspoken pride.’ She turned and looked at Maria.

‘Enough fawning, woman.’ He scowled. ‘She’ll not invite further gossip from the confines of her chamber.’