‘He’s a stranger,’ she whispered to it, thinking back to the conversation she’d had with her mother last night.

Carla, looking much restored after her time at the fazenda, had come into her bedroom just before Bel had turned off the light, and had taken her daughter’s hands in hers.

‘Querida, I am now going to tell you what will happen to you tomorrow night,’ she’d begun.

‘Mãe,’ Bel had said, as horribly embarrassed as Carla, ‘I think I know.’

Her mother had looked vaguely relieved, but had still persisted.

‘So you are aware that the first time may be a little . . . uncomfortable? And that you might bleed? Though some say if you have ridden horses, the delicate tissue that marks a woman out as pure could already have broken. And you rode such a lot at the fazenda.’

‘I didn’t know any of that,’ said Bel truthfully.

‘The . . . process takes some getting used to, but I imagine Gustavo is experienced in the ways of it and I’m sure he will be gentle with you.’

‘Mãe, is it . . . is it ladylike to enjoy it?’ asked Bel tentatively.

Carla let out a peal of laughter. ‘Of course, querida. You will be a married woman, and there is nothing a husband wishes for more than a wife who is happy to explore the pleasures of the bedroom. It’s how you keep your husband, and how I have kept mine.’ A faint tinge of colour rose to her cheeks. ‘And remember, it’s for God’s purpose: to beget babies. It is a holy state between a husband and wife. Goodnight, Izabela. Sleep well and do not fear for tomorrow. It will be better than you expect, I promise.’

As Bel remembered this conversation, she also thought of her automatic revulsion at the thought of Gustavo touching her in the ways her mother had subtly described. Rising from the chair to return to him, she only hoped that it was first-time nerves and that after tonight, it would be as her mother had told her.

An awed hush fell on the grand ballroom as Izabela entered in her spectacular Patou ballgown of shimmering white, which hugged her curves and cascaded into a fishtail train behind her.

As Gustavo embraced her, the guests applauded.

‘You look beautiful, my darling, and every man in the room is jealous that it will be me sharing your bed tonight,’ he whispered in her ear.

Apart from the first dance, for the next three hours she hardly saw Gustavo. They each entertained their own family, and Bel danced with numerous nameless men who all told her how lucky Gustavo was to have caught her on his hook. She drank very little, already sick with tension about what would happen afterwards, a feeling that resurfaced with a vengeance as the guests began to gather near the main staircase to cheer them both on their way upstairs.