Ten minutes later, Bel clambered back down the mountainside and walked through the kitchen, dirty and dishevelled, but with her head held high. Running upstairs, she asked Gabriela to fill her a bath, then she lay in it, thinking how in future she would be the perfect, submissive daughter . . . and wife.

The subject of the rejected trip to Europe was not brought up over dinner, and that night, Bel lay in bed knowing it would never be mentioned again.

16

Two weeks later, the three members of the Aires Cabral family attended a grand dinner at Mansão da Princesa. Antonio pulled out all the stops to impress, making much of how well his coffee business was growing, as the demand from America for Brazil’s magical beans increased with each passing month.

‘Our family once owned a number of coffee farms near Rio, but with the abolition of slavery, they quickly became uneconomical,’ remarked Gustavo’s father.

‘Ah, yes. I am indeed fortunate that my farms are near São Paulo, where of course we never relied so heavily on slave labour,’ replied Antonio. ‘And of course the land around São Paulo is far better suited to growing coffee. I do believe that I produce some of the best. We shall taste it after dinner.’

‘Yes, of course, we must all embrace the New World,’ agreed Maurício stiffly.

‘And strive to maintain the values and traditions of the Old,’ Gustavo’s mother added pointedly.

Bel watched Luiza Aires Cabral during dinner, her face rarely cracking a smile. There was no doubt that when she was younger she must have been a beauty, with her unusual blue eyes and fine bone structure. But it seemed as though bitterness had erased any outward charm, eating her away from the inside. Bel made a promise to herself that, no matter what turn her life took, the same fate would never befall her.

‘I understand you know Heitor da Silva Costa’s daughter, Maria Elisa,’ Gustavo commented to Bel in his quiet voice. ‘She is a good friend of yours?’

‘Yes, she is.’

‘Next week, I’m accompanying my father to meet Senhor da Silva Costa on Corcovado Mountain so that he can update us with his plans. Pai is part of the Catholic Circle that first dreamed up the idea of placing a monument to the Cristo there. I hear Senhor da Silva Costa’s plans change regularly, and I don’t envy him the task he has set himself. The mountain is more than seven hundred metres high.’

‘I’ve never been up to the top, even though we live so near,’ replied Bel. ‘The mountain rises from the back of our garden.’

‘Perhaps your father would allow me to take you.’

‘I would like that, thank you,’ she answered politely.

‘Then we have a plan. I will ask him later.’

As Bel turned from Gustavo’s gaze to eat the delicious dessert of pudim de leite condensado, made from condensed milk and caramel, she felt his eyes still on her.