Ginie stopped reading. Her face was burning, she felt sick. She crunched the letter up in her hands, realizing how completely she had been sold. She vowed that a day would come when she wouldn’t be anyone’s goods. Not her parents’, not her husband’s. She had no idea how she was going to get there, but she would be her own woman. She couldn’t face Riccardo or Rosa now. Rising to her feet, she walked quickly to the front door, opened it and stepped out into the bright morning.

Now that she was their daughter-in-law, Ugo and Solferina were trying their best to accept Ginie. On a warm evening in spring, the four of them were finishing supper in the dining room at the Villa Spinola. The many candles in the room made the air unpleasantly hot and stuffy.

‘Luca – could I have more wine?’ Ginie asked the footman. She had been drinking steadily all evening.

‘Ginie, mia cara, his proper name, please,’ reminded Solferina as he refilled Ginie’s glass. Ginie had used his Christian name, and the Spinolas addressed their servants more formally by their surnames.

‘Apologies,’ said Ginie breezily, ‘I keep forgetting.’

‘Anyhow, perhaps you’ve had enough to drink now?’ Solferina’s tone was solicitous. ‘It isn’t good for your health, you know.’

‘Thank you for your concern, Mama. I am perfectly healthy.’

‘You’re looking a little thin, my dear. Are you getting plenty of rest and eating properly?’ Solferina was gazing at Ginie with real tenderness. Perhaps she was remembering the early days of her own marriage? But Ginie seethed with resentment because Solferina was interfering again.

‘Of course I’m eating,’ she replied sweetly. ‘But good food is so much better with plenty of good wine, don’t you think?’ It was satisfying to watch Solferina’s mouth pucker in disapproval. She made a few animated comments about the weather in a tense voice. Paulo answered in the same manner, which was so unlike his real self that it increased the awkwardness at the table. Ugo was eating his poached oranges steadily, his eyes narrowed, looking at the food.

‘Father Bruno has offered to hold a private mass for the two of you,’ Solferina began, after another lull. ‘I thought perhaps next week?’

‘Whatever for?’ asked Ginie.

‘He wants to offer prayers for a long and healthy marriage, blessed with children.’

‘Really Mama, that’s hardly necessary!’ Paulo protested.

Ginie had a sudden vision of years of stultifying meals with Ugo and Solferina stretching out in front of her. She wanted something different – a bigger kind of life. A knot of anxiety constricted her chest and everything wavered. She leaned forwards and set her glass on the table, but made contact with a bump on the lace cloth. The glass tilted, red wine slopping dangerously close to the rim. Paulo quickly took it from her.

‘I wish you wouldn’t provoke Mama,’ he said on the walk home.