“But you don’t love her?”

His eyes met mine. “She is not a very loveable type of person. She has grown up as the only child of a very rich man. She has had everything she wanted, and is horribly spoiled. She has temper tantrums if she doesn’t get her own way all the time.” He sighed. “No, I do not think it will be an easy marriage for me.”

“Then why go through with it? Is money so important?”

“Not money, necessarily, but the honour and status of my family. And the business opportunity with another powerful family, of course. The whole of Venice has known that we are to marry. If I backed out, it would mean disgrace to my family as well as financial hardship. I can’t do that to my father.” He picked up his glass, drained it in one gulp, then banged it down again. “So I will be the dutiful son and hope that one day she might grow up and come to love me.”

He was looking at me, and I could see the longing in his eyes. “That was one reason why I was so attracted to you. Here you were—a young girl so fresh, so unspoiled, so excited by everything. And Bianca—I give her a large gold bracelet, and she barely glances at it before she tosses it into a drawer. The only thing she shows any affection for is her dog. She has a little Pekinese, and she showers it with kisses.”

I had to smile. “You said that Venetians didn’t go for pets.”

“She is the exception. And you will be pleased to know that your kittens are now old cats with great-grandchildren of their own.”

“Perhaps your fiancée will change when she has children,” I said. I was proud of the way I kept my voice even.

“We shall see. But I have spoiled your dinner. I should not have mentioned her.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Otherwise, I might have gone away with false hopes. Not that you ever would . . .” Now I stumbled over the words, feeling my cheeks flaming.

“In another world, you and I might have made a good couple,” he said. “But you—why are you not married? You are a beautiful woman.”

“I’m not beautiful,” I said.

“You are striking. That red hair and those clear blue eyes and your perfectly English complexion. Men would certainly notice you.”

I sighed. “I don’t seem to have any way of meeting men in my life. I teach girls all day and go home to be with my mother. She is rather fragile, you know. She depends on me. I am all she has, and she still grieves for my father. My little sister, Winnie, married and went out to India with her husband last year.”

“And you are the dutiful daughter who stayed?” He nodded with sympathy.

“The dutiful daughter and the dutiful son,” I said.

“That’s right. We make a good pair.” He reached across the table and took my hand. It was all I could do not to snatch mine away. “I’m so glad we met again and had this meal together. I shall remember it.”