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
“And you know Benedick,” Filomena adds, glancing over my shoulder.
I hadn’t noticed him there. He steps forward, and his usually expressive face is a blank.
“Hugh,” he says quietly.
“Ah, Ben.” Sir Hugh’s voice is easy. “Filomena told me you were staying. What a nice surprise.”
“I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” Leo says, his eyes travelling between them.
“Many years ago now, when Ben was just a boy,” Sir Hugh says. “I knew Ben’s mother – oh, a lifetime ago. How is she?”
An odd look passes over Ben’s features. “She’s dead,” he says flatly.
“My dear boy,” Sir Hugh starts, lifting a hand to his throat. “I am sorry to hear it.”
Ben’s hands hang by his side, and I notice his fists clench. A strange tension that I don’t understand fills the air.
“How do you and Filomena know each other, Sir Hugh?” I ask quickly.
“Filomena modelled for me several times over the years.” Sir Hugh’s eyes light up as he looks over at her.
“When I was much younger,” Filomena adds firmly.
“Alas,” Sir Hugh says, “I cannot persuade her any more.” His glance drifts over to me. “I must say, my dear, that if you would agree to model for me while I’m here, I would be thrilled.” His voice is silky, coaxing, but there’s something in the way his eyes crawl over me that makes me shiver. “I think you are something … quite out of the ordinary,” he finishes softly.
“Did you hear that, Beatrice?” crows Leo. “What an honour! I’m sure she would be honoured, Sir Hugh.”
“Oh, I don’t think she would,” Ben says at the same time that Filomena says, “She has her lessons…”
“Filomena is right,” I say, determined to have my own say in the matter. “Not to mention that I’d be an absolutely useless model. I absolutely cannot sit still.” I put enough finality into my voice to indicate that the subject is closed, even though Uncle Leo’s mouth is set in a straight line and I can tell he is not best pleased.
“Not to worry,” Sir Hugh says mildly. I see his eyes flicker towards Ben who is standing, still stone-faced, beside me. “You’ll let me know if you change your mind?”
Filomena takes hold of Sir Hugh’s arm again. “Come, Hugh,” she says. “I want to introduce you to Felix – he is around here somewhere, and his miniatures are most charming…” She disappears into the crowd, chattering away to Sir Hugh who nods happily beside her.
“Well, Beatrice,” Uncle Leo says, looking after them, his expression sour. “I think you’ve looked a gift-horse in the mouth there. A portrait by Sir Hugh Falmouth… Any number of young ladies would jump at such an opportunity.”
“I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground, Uncle,” I say.