‘Gustavo,’ Bel said as they left the house, ‘where will your parents live after we are married and I am living here with you?’

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at her question. ‘Well, of course they will continue to live here with us. Where else would they go?’

The following morning, Bel made Carla comfortable in the back of the Rolls-Royce and climbed in next to her. Loen sat with their driver in the front as they embarked on the five-hour journey up to the cool air of the mountainous region of Paty do Alferes. For two hundred years Fazenda Santa Tereza had belonged to the family of the Baron Paty do Alferes, a Portuguese nobleman and also, as Antonio had pointed out before they’d left that morning, a distant cousin of the Aires Cabral family.

The roads up to the region were surprisingly good, due to the fact that the wealthy landowners had once needed to transport their coffee beans and themselves back and forth to Rio and had financed the construction. Carla was able to sleep most of the way without disturbance.

Bel gazed out of the window as they began to climb up through the mountains, the gentle slopes falling into the valleys beneath, the streams that carried pure, fresh spring water cutting narrow crevices into them.

‘Mãe, we are here,’ said Bel, as the car bumped along the dusty drive which led to the main house.

Carla stirred as the car came to a halt and Bel jumped out to breathe in the wonderful clean air the area was renowned for. As it was almost dusk, the cicadas chirruped at full force and Vanila and Donna – the two strays that Bel had begged her parents to keep when they’d arrived as hungry puppies at the kitchen door seven years ago – yelped excitedly around their mistress’s legs.

‘Home,’ Bel sighed in pleasure as she saw Fabiana and Sandro, who took care of the fazenda, following behind the dogs.

‘Senhorita Izabela!’ Fabiana wrapped her in a comforting embrace. ‘Why, I think you have grown more beautiful since the last time I saw you. Are you well?’

‘Yes, I am, thank you. But,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘I think you will be shocked when you see my mother. Try not to show her,’ she warned.

Fabiana nodded and watched as the driver helped Carla out of the car. She patted Bel’s arm and then walked over to greet her mistress. If anyone could restore her mother to health, thought Bel, it was Fabiana. Not only would she offer up prayers in the tiny chapel which sat in an alcove just off the drawing room, she would also ply Carla with all types of traditional remedies: mixtures of the different plants and flowers that grew in abundance here and were renowned for their medicinal qualities.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bruno – Fabiana and Sandro’s dark-eyed son – hovering in the background. As they all approached the entrance to the house, she saw Loen throw him a coy smile. And watched as Bruno returned it.