‘It might be better if you gave Ginie less freedom.’ Solferina spoke softly, but with steel in her voice. Rosa’s eyes opened wide.

‘What do you mean?’

Solferina covered her eyes with her right hand. Then she said that she had seen Ginie and Paulo embracing at the bottom of the garden, by the statue of Ugo’s grandfather.

‘It’s a less secluded spot than you think,’ she added, with a slight shudder.

Ginie’s cheeks burned with humiliation. Revulsion, too, that this haughty, dried-out woman had witnessed their intimacy. Riccardo broke the silence.

‘I’m happy Ginie has found love with a fine young man. Quite frankly, I don’t see the harm in letting them express it.’

Solferina’s eyes went glassy with distaste. The candles burned low, casting leaping shadows on the faces around the table.

Ugo and Solferina made no secret of the fact that they would have preferred Paulo to marry a girl from his own class, but they were also pragmatic enough to recognise that they no longer had sufficient funds to maintain their lifestyle. An ancient title with no money meant nothing. They made the best of the situation, agreeing to the marriage, but ensuring that they had as little contact with Ginie and her family as possible.

While Ginie waited for a chance to rectify the poor first impression she had made, Paulo gave gentle advice about how to please his parents.

‘Now, my love, never raise your voice above a murmur. Don’t wave your hands around so much when you talk, admire beauty – but with restraint. You can be lively and outspoken, but only with me.’ He punctuated the end of each phrase with a kiss.

‘Don’t worry, it’s only until the wedding, then we can do as we please.’ He kissed her deeply, running his fingertips lightly up and down the back of her neck until they were both tingling and breathless.

The marriage negotiations and all arrangements for the church service and reception took place between Riccardo and the manager of Villa Spinola, Signor Malerba, a slight, balding man with pale grey eyes behind wire-framed glasses. Through Malerba, the Spinolas stipulated a small wedding and a large dowry. The dowry was far in excess of what Riccardo had expected to pay, but he put a good face on it, declaring ‘No price is too high for my sweet girl.’

Whenever the Peiranos ran into the Spinolas, the coolness with which they were treated showed exactly what the Spinolas thought of them – a family in commerce who flaunted their wealth. A new-money man and a Romanian woman of obscure origin who hadn’t bothered to marry until after their children were born, and a daughter utterly lacking modesty or decorum.

9 Ginie, London, 1920s

9

Ginie, London, 1920s