‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I love him. I love him with all my heart. And I can’t even bear to think how I will live the rest of my life without him.’

She burst into tears, the relief of sharing her true feelings face to face with Margarida cutting through her reserve.

‘Bel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to distress you. Listen’ – Margarida glanced out of the window – ‘we’re near to your apartment now and you can’t arrive home like this. Let’s go and sit somewhere quiet. We’re so late anyway, a few more minutes won’t make any difference.’

Margarida spoke to the driver and gave him directions. A few seconds later, the car pulled up on the Avenue de Marigny beside a small park surrounded by iron railings.

They climbed out of the Delage and Margarida led her to a bench and sat her down. Bel watched the setting sun dip gracefully beyond the plane trees that bordered the park and graced every boulevard she’d seen in Paris.

‘Please, you must forgive me for speaking so bluntly,’ Margarida apologised. ‘The affairs of your heart are none of my business, I know. But seeing both of you so filled with passion for each other made me feel I must say something.’

‘But surely my circumstances are different to yours in Italy?’ Bel insisted. ‘You yourself said in the car that you thought Laurent had feelings for me. That maybe he loved me.’

‘At the time, I was sure that Marcello loved me. Or at least, I wanted to believe that he did. But whatever Laurent says to you, Izabela, however he persuades you, please remember that although you think there may be a future together, there is not. Laurent can offer you nothing: no home, no security, and believe me, the last thing he wishes for is to ever be tied down with a wife and a brood of children. The problem with creatives is that they are simply in love with the idea of being in love. But it can never lead anywhere, no matter what heights your joint passions reach. Do you understand me?’

Bel stared blankly at a nursemaid with her two young charges, the only other residents of the gardens. ‘Yes. But I will also be honest and say that even though my ears hear you and my brain understands your warning, my heart is not so easy to convince.’

‘No, of course not,’ Margarida conceded. ‘But please, Bel, at the very least, think about what I’ve said. I would hate for you to ruin the rest of your life by allowing your heart to rule your head for a few short minutes. Given that your fiancé allowed you to come here, if he discovered your secret, it would be a betrayal that he could never forgive.’

‘I know.’ Bel bit her lip guiltily. ‘Thank you, Margarida. I’m grateful for your advice. But now, we really must go, or Maria Georgiana will never allow me out of her sight again.’