‘I will be here,’ said Bel as Gustavo stood and she did too.

‘Until tomorrow, Izabela,’ he murmured, kissing her hand. ‘And I long for the day when I no longer have to book an appointment to see you.’

When Gustavo had left the house, Bel walked upstairs to her bedroom to gather herself together before she went to check on her mother. Standing by the window, she gave herself a thorough talking-to. Gustavo was sweet, kind and gentle, and she must remember that it wasn’t his fault that she could never love him the way he loved her. Or that she already loved another . . .

Remembering with a shudder Laurent’s words of warning – that one day her true feelings would reveal themselves – Bel splashed her face with cold water before making her way to her mother’s room.

A week later, Bel was pleased to see that Carla, although still weak and thin, was most definitely improving.

‘Oh,’ Carla sighed one afternoon, after listening to Bel read Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert, translating it from French into Portuguese so her mother could understand the words. ‘I have such a clever daughter! Who would have thought it?’ Carla looked at Bel fondly and stroked her cheek. ‘You make me very proud.’

‘And you will make me proud if you eat every bit of your supper,’ Bel replied.

Carla glanced out of the window at the sunny afternoon, watching shadows dance across the lush flora and fauna in the gardens. ‘The brightness makes me long to be at my beloved fazenda, she said. ‘I always find the mountain air there so restorative and the atmosphere so tranquil.’

‘Would you like to go, Mãe?’

‘You know how I love it there, Izabela. But of course, your father is so busy at his office that he would not wish to leave Rio.’

‘What’s important is what’s best for your health. You leave it to me,’ replied Bel firmly.

Over dinner that evening with her father, Bel broached the idea of her accompanying Carla to the fazenda.

‘I think it would lift her spirits, and therefore benefit her health immensely. Would you let us go, Pai, just for a couple of weeks or so? It’s so very hot in Rio just now.’

‘Izabela,’ Antonio said with a frown, ‘you have only just arrived back and now you talk of leaving again. Anyone would think you disliked being here.’

‘You know that isn’t true, Pai. But until we both feel Mãe is on the mend, I’m not comfortable with finalising a date for the wedding. And you know how eager I am to do that. So if some time spent at the fazenda would hasten her recovery, I’m happy to accompany her.’

‘And leave me all alone here, with no wife or child to come home to?’ Antonio complained.

‘I’m sure it would be possible to visit us at the weekends when you’re not working, Pai.’