‘Senhor da Silva Costa explained that they must dig down many metres into the earth to make sure the statue doesn’t topple over. Now’ – he turned Bel around by her shoulders and led her to the edge of the pavilion – ‘look over there.’

Bel followed his pointing finger and saw the glinting red roof of an elegant building.

‘Is that not the Parque Lage?’

‘Yes, and the botanical gardens are quite stunning. But do you know the story of the house that sits within them?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Well, not so long ago, a Brazilian man fell in love with an Italian opera singer. He was desperate for her to marry him and join him in Rio, but she, used to Italy, did not want to move here. So he asked her what it would take for her to leave her beloved Rome behind. She told him that she wanted to live in a palazzo, just like the ones she loved in her own country. So,’ Gustavo said, smiling, ‘he built it for her. And she married him, and moved here to Rio, and she lives within the walls of her beautiful piece of homeland to this day.’

‘What a romantic story,’ Bel breathed before she could stop herself, then leant over as far as she could and looked down on the beautiful scene below her. Almost instantly, an arm came again about her waist.

‘Careful. I wouldn’t like to tell your parents that you fell off the top of Corcovado Mountain,’ he said with a smile. ‘You know, Izabela, that if I could, I would build you a house as beautiful as the one below us.’

Bel, still hanging over the edge, her face hidden from him, heard his words from behind her. ‘That is sweet of you to say so, Gustavo.’

‘It’s also the truth. Izabela . . .’ He gently turned her around to face him. ‘You must know what I’m about to ask you.’

‘I . . .’

Immediately a finger went to her mouth. ‘I think it’s better if you say nothing for the moment or maybe my courage will desert me.’ He cleared his throat nervously. ‘With your beauty, I understand that I am not physically what you deserve as your husband. We both know you could have any man you wished for. Every man in Rio is under your spell, just as I am. But I want to tell you that I appreciate more about you than your outer appearance.’

Gustavo paused, and Bel immediately felt she must answer him. She opened her mouth to reply, but again the finger came to her lips and he hushed her.

‘Please, let me finish. From the first moment I saw you at your eighteenth birthday party, I knew that I wanted to be with you. I asked your father to introduce me, and well,’ he shrugged, ‘the rest we know. Of course, we must both be pragmatic and accept that on the surface the liaison between us is one of convenience, since your family has the money and mine has the breeding. But, Izabela, I have to tell you that for me, this wouldn’t be a marriage built on those sad foundations. Because . . .’ Gustavo hung his head for a moment, then looked up at her. ‘I love you.’