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Back Under a Dancing Star
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Laura Wood
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One: England
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Part Two: Villa di Stelle
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Part Three: Villa di Stelle
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Part Four: Florence
  36. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-One
  39. Chapter Thirty-Two
  40. Part Five: Villa Di Stelle
  41. Chapter Thirty-Three
  42. Chapter Thirty-Four
  43. Chapter Thirty-Five
  44. Chapter Thirty-Six
  45. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  46. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  47. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  48. Chapter Forty
  49. Epilogue: England
  50. Acknowledgements
  51. About the Author

“We can tell people that Beatrice will be spending the summer in Europe,” Mother continues. “Acquiring a bit of polish. That will give the talk about this terrible evening time to die down.” She positively quakes at the reminder.

“And, of course,” Father puts in here, “Leo lives such a quiet life in the countryside. He’s going to remarry soon. A widow of good standing, I understand, who will no doubt be a sobering influence on you, Beatrice.”

My heart thumps. Whatever the circumstances, the dazzling promise of summer in Italy burns too brightly to be overshadowed by either the ominous “respectable widow” or stern, solemn Uncle Leo. Still, I try hard to conceal my excitement. It won’t do for my parents to think this is anything other than a just punishment.

“Very well,” I say meekly, turning my eyes to the floor. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“I hope it goes without saying that you will be on your best behaviour, Beatrice Emma Langton,” Father says warningly. “You will not disgrace the Langton name abroad. You must give me your word that you won’t get into any of your scrapes in Italy.”

“Oh, of course, Father,” I say, looking up at him now and smiling sunnily. “I promise.”

Part Two: Villa di Stelle

Part Two: Villa di Stelle

July, 1933

There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signor Benedick and her; they never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them.

– Much Ado About Nothing, Act I, Scene 1

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

The boat chugs away, and it is not long before Mother and Father are reduced to tiny specks in the distance.

As soon as they fade from sight, I begin to feel a lightening of spirit. I am, unfortunately, accompanied by a vinegar-faced woman who is a distant relative of the vicar, and her presence is all that prevents me from dancing a little jig. (The vicar himself had, unsurprisingly, been very in favour of my banishment and had even bestowed a smile of approval upon Mother, an event so startlingly rare that it left her quite dazed and unable to remember the Lord’s prayer.)

The white cliffs of Dover stretch out behind me, a bleached streak daubed against a pastel-blue sky. Each inch of water that I place between myself and my home feels like a loosened button on a too-tight dress. I drag in deep breaths of the cold air and taste salt on my lips.

For most of the journey I hang over the rail on the ship’s deck, feeling the sting of the water on my face, fingers of sea breeze curling around me, tugging my hair from its pins. I watch with a sort of disbelieving thrill as slowly, slowly, the horizon shifts, and France comes into view.