‘He is my godson,’ Matteo told her.
‘Oh?’ said Bianca, looking across at him. He seemed to be expecting her to say something more, so she went on. ‘Does he have to come far?’
Matteo shook his head. ‘He lives less than an hour away, though his work keeps him in Rome. And he is often abroad, travelling for business, too.’
‘What does he do?’ Bianca asked, more out of politeness than interest.
‘Finance,’ her uncle replied. He said it carelessly, as though it was of little interest to him. ‘It is very international.’ He waved a hand dismissively.
For a fleeting, unpleasant second, memory pierced her. Luca had worked in international finance. It had brought him to London—and taken him away again.
She pushed the memory aside. Any memories of him were strictly forbidden. Even here in Italy.
Especially here in Italy…
She sought distraction in another question. ‘Is he bringing his wife?’ she asked, merely out of politeness.
‘Oh, he is not married,’ Matteo replied. ‘He is too popular with the ladies for that!’
Bianca caught the indulgent note in his voice, and the note of fondness too.
‘He is very close to me,’ Matteo went on, his voice warm and affectionate. ‘And he would fuss over me as much as you and the whole pack of you do if I were to let him!’ he added with some asperity. ‘In a way…’ his voice softened ‘…he is almost like the son I never had, for my dearest Luisa and I were not blessed with children—’
He broke off, took another sip from his glass, made another face.
Then he brightened again. ‘I look forward to you meeting him,’ he said.
Bianca gave an uncertain smile.
Matteo was continuing. ‘We shall have something of a dinner party tomorrow evening! Giuseppe will see to it all. All you need to do, my dear, is dress for the occasion! How very beautiful you will look!’
Bianca occupied herself with her Campari and soda. This godson of Matteo’s, who was so popular with the ladies and almost like a son to him… What would he make of her presence here? Arriving like this out of nowhere? She gave a mental shake of her head. It was no concern of hers. Matteo could make the explanations if he felt they were warranted. She would just go with the flow. If this unknown godson held his godfather in high regard, then surely he would welcome her presence here?
Giuseppe was entering the room again, announcing dinner.
Carefully, trying not to fuss, Bianca offered her arm to help Matteo to his feet. He took it, leaning on her slightly, but she suspected that was more to show affection than for support. Slowly, they made their way into the dining room.
The godson was not mentioned again, and Bianca was glad of it. Tonight she would have Matteo to herself.
Sadness plucked at her. Anticipatory grief, at knowing that this precious time was limited. So cruelly limited. She must make the very most of it, and be what comfort she could while she could…
* * *
Once again Luca was speeding north-east from Rome, heading for the Villa Fiarante to dine with Matteo.
Giuseppe, when he’d interrogated him, had assured him no other guests would be present. Why that meant he had to wear evening dress, Luca didn’t know. He knew only that Matteo hadstipulated it, so he was complying. He would stay the night too, and then put in a couple of days catching up with matters at his own home before returning to Rome.
As he pulled up in front of the villa, some time later, the evening had already gathered. Stars were pricking out in the sky, the air was cooler. The villa was lit up, and Luca’s mind went back to earlier times, when Matteo and Luisa had been so fond of entertaining. Then, only a little time before his own parents had been killed, Luisa had succumbed to the heart disease that had taken her so soon. And now Matteo would be following her.
They had never had children—Matteo’s only sorrow, for their marriage had been very happy. Children would have been an added blessing.
But I’ll stand right with you, Matteo! I may not be your son, but I am the next best thing, and I will stand by you till the end. And whatever it is you want, if it is in my power, I shall do it.
Including, right now, having dinner with him this evening.
Giuseppe was already opening the door and he stepped lightly inside, making his usual low-voiced enquiry as to how his godfather was.
‘Thesignoris in good spirits,’ Giuseppe assured him. ‘And awaiting you with impatience.’
