However, although Antonio was now closer to Rio, this had still not been enough for him. She remembered having supper with her parents one night, and listening to her father explaining to her mother why they must one day move to the city itself.

‘Rio is the capital, the seat of all power in Brazil. And we must be a part of it.’

As Antonio’s business grew, so did his pot of gold. Three years ago, her father had arrived home and announced that he’d bought a house in Cosme Velho, one of the most exclusive districts in Rio.

‘So now the Portuguese aristocrats will no longer be able to ignore me because they will be our neighbours!’ Antonio had crowed as he’d thumped the table in triumph.

Bel and her mother had shared a horrified glance at the thought of leaving their mountain home and moving to the big city. However, her normally gentle mother was adamant that the Fazenda Santa Tereza must not be sold, so that at least there was sanctuary if they needed to escape the heat of a Rio summer.

‘Why, Mãe, why?’ Bel had wept later that evening as her mother had entered her room to kiss her goodnight. ‘I love it here. I don’t want to move to the city.’

‘Because it is not enough for your father to be as rich as any of the Portuguese nobility in Rio. He wishes to be their equal in society. And to gain their respect.’

‘But, Mãe, even I understand how the Portuguese in Rio look down on us Italian paulistas. Surely he will never achieve his aim?’

‘Well,’ her mother had said wearily, ‘Antonio has achieved everything he has wished for so far.’

‘But how will you and I know how to behave?’ she’d asked. ‘I have lived in the mountains for most of my life. We will never fit in as Pai wishes us to.’

‘Your father is already talking about us meeting with Senhora Nathalia Santos, a woman from Portuguese aristocracy whose family has fallen on hard times. She earns a living by teaching families such as ours how to conduct themselves in Rio society. And she can make introductions for them too.’

‘So we’re to be turned into dolls, who wear the best clothes and say the right things and use the right cutlery? I think I would rather die.’ Bel had made a choking noise to express her displeasure.

‘That is about right, yes,’ Carla had agreed, chuckling at her daughter’s assessment, her warm brown eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘And of course, Izabela, you, his beloved only daughter, are his goose who may lay the golden egg. You are already very beautiful, Bel, and your father thinks your looks will bring you a good marriage.’

Bel had looked up at her mother in horror. ‘I am to be used as currency by Pai to gain social acceptance? Well, I won’t do it!’ She’d rolled over and thumped her pillows with her fists.