‘It has nothing to do with feelings, child,’ Mamma Lucrezia said more gently, turning to her husband expectantly. When he remained silent she continued, ‘Marriage is the reason we women are born, and Maria will be wed with your father’s blessing—and God’s. The earlier Papa can secure a betrothal contract, the better, for the most sought-after families will already be eyeing their choice of bride for any marriageable sons. The younger the bride, the more assured is her groom that she is untarnished. I would have Maria’s future settled well before she becomes a woman.’

‘I trust Papa,’ Maria said quietly, though her lips quivered as she spoke.

Papa sipped his wine as calmly as if it were only bolts of cloth he was selling and not his daughter. A wave of frustration engulfed Luna. ‘What of her family here? Do we count for nothing?’ Luna felt like she might burst. ‘Maria is too young to wed. The betrothal must last years and what if a better offer comes along? How do you manage that, Papa?’

‘You go too far, Leonarda,’ Mamma Lucrezia warned, but Luna could only hear the pounding in her head.

‘Perhaps none of us goes far enough,’ she retorted.

‘Dio Mio,’ she heard her step-mamma exclaim just as Papa’s fist hit the table. His wine glass crashed to the floor. Mamma Lucrezia cried out in surprise then shut her mouth and watched her husband in nervous silence. Luna froze.

‘Am I no longer the head of this household?’ His voice was low and menacing.

Luna nodded. She knew better than to speak again. Mamma Lucrezia grabbed the pitcher of wine and a fresh cup. Luna saw her eyes fire up then quickly cloud over. She placed another full glass before Papa.

Filippo alone was unperturbed and set up again with wailing.

‘Sire, could you distract your son?’ Mamma Lucrezia lifted the child out of his seat and placed him in his father’s lap without waiting for a response. Filippo stopped crying and stared at his papa, who seemed equally shocked and held his son stiffly. Then a bemused smile broke across his face and he bounced the boy up and down. Filippo giggled and Papa spun him round deftly to face the table. Mamma Lucrezia clapped with exaggerated swings of her arms and Pippo laughed. The danger had passed.

‘You look just like a jelly,’ Maria said to Pippo and Luna’s heart went out to her dear, trusting sister.

‘He enjoys the game and I enjoy the peace it delivers. Thank you, my love.’ Mamma Lucrezia leant over and filled her husband’s cup again. Pippo squirmed with delight at his father’s tickles. He had the long Fusili face and his blond colouring mirrored that of his mother and sister. Luna alone of the children resembled her dark-haired father, though she didn’t feel very close to him at this moment.