Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for Laura Wood
- Dedication
- Part One: England
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Part Two: Villa di Stelle
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Part Three: Villa di Stelle
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Part Four: Florence
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Part Five: Villa Di Stelle
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Epilogue: England
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
“About my lack of experience.” I give Ben a look that my mother could warn him means mischief. “I should do some more research,” I continue, keeping my tone deliberately thoughtful. “In fact, perhaps I should take a lover.”
And with that, I waltz past him and out of the door.
Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ben trails after me, spluttering and slightly incoherent.
“Take a lover!” I hear him mutter under his breath, and I repress the urge to laugh. I’m surprised that shocking him was so easy. I thought he was made of sterner stuff than my parents’ dinner party guests.
“You’re abandoning Simone,” I point out as we make our way deeper into the gardens. “I think you were doing quite well there.”
He doesn’t dignify that with a response.
We find Ursula and Klaus sprawled on an old red blanket in front of the fountain. There are candles in a rather gothic-looking brass candelabra in the middle, casting the pair in a warm, flickering glow. More candles are arranged in glass jars along the edge of the fountain itself, and a makeshift feast has been laid out, along with two bottles of wine.
“What kept you?” Ursula greets me, holding out her hands to receive the pastries with all the reverence they deserve.
“We were just talking,” Ben says, his usual easy charm restored.
“I don’t know what you can have been talking about to have taken so long,” Klaus complains, handing me my plate. “And why it has kept my dessert from me.”
“Ben was suggesting I take a lover,” I say, applying myself to my dinner.
Klaus chokes on his wine, Ben drops his head into his hands and groans. Ursula’s eyes meet mine with a glimmer of appreciation. “What an excellent thought,” she says. “Did Ben, ah, have anyone in mind?”
“Well—” I begin.
“No, he didn’t.” Ben’s voice is weary. “And I’ll thank you not to credit me with the idea.”
“In which case…” Klaus’s voice holds a slight quaver of laughter. “I wonder what inspired such a suggestion?”
He holds out a glass of wine and I take it.
“Ben simply pointed out that there is a big difference between theory and practical experience,” I say. “The logical thing to do if I wish to truly understand that difference is to take a lover. An experiment, of sorts.”
Klaus is laughing openly now. “An experiment?” he says.
“Again,” Ben cuts in, “I want to be very clear that this was not my suggestion. This is just Bea’s idea of a hilarious joke.”
“Well, you made it easy. I didn’t expect you to be so puritanical about it,” I say over the top of my glass, enjoying watching him squirm.
“Why does it have to be a joke?” Ursula asks. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”