PROLOGUE
LAKE GENEVA, SEPTEMBER 1951
SUMMER RESIDENCE OF FLORIAN LENGACHER
Delphine stretched out beside the pool, her silk robe slipping from her shoulder and leaving it bare as she lay in the sun, smiling as she heard Florian’s footsteps coming closer. She held out her hand for the drink he’d promised, but instead of a glass, he slipped his palm against hers.
She opened her eyes, sitting upright when she saw his serious expression and turning to face him. In the distance the lake shimmered, the late sun reflecting off the water.
‘You look worried,’ she said, reaching out her other hand to cup his smooth cheek as he lowered himself to the seat beside her, his dark hair falling forward as he leaned in. ‘Tell me—what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he replied, smiling as he squeezed her hand. ‘On the contrary, I have something to show you.’
Delphine smiled back, only too happy to play along. Their stolen moments together brought her such joy, made her forget all the heartbreak that had come before, and she patiently waited for him to continue.
Her curiosity was piqued when she realised he was holding a box in his other hand. ‘What do you want to show me?’ she asked.
‘This,’ Florian said, dropping her hand in order to take the lid off the box, ‘belonged to the former queen consort of Italy. I had a feeling you might be familiar with it?’
‘The pink sapphire tiara,’ Delphine said, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at him, hardly able to believe what she was looking at. ‘I know it well. In fact, I admired it when the queen wore it to a wedding I attended after the war. I don’t think there’s a woman in Italy who wouldn’t recognise it.’ She shook her head, leaning forward to better see the stunning jewels. It took her back to her time in Italy, of the years she’d spent going to glittering parties and rubbing shoulders with Italian nobility during the early years of her marriage. ‘How has it come to be in your possession?’
‘The family discreetly sold some unique pieces from their collection after they left Italy, and my personal curator made certain I was the successful buyer. Most of the other pieces were entrusted to the Bank of Italy in Rome for safekeeping, which makes the few pieces they sold even more special,’ he said, holding it up between them so Delphine could look at it more closely. ‘I’ve collected many beautiful diamonds and pieces of art over the years, but this tiara? There is nothing in the world to rival the history and the beauty of such a piece.’
It was certainly unique, and the fact that he’d been able to purchase it reminded her just how well-connected Florian was. The stones caught the light as he turned the tiara in his hands, the sapphires appearing the most vivid pink one moment, and then almost purple the next, made even more brilliant as the sunshine reflected against them. He was right that it was perhaps one of the most coveted and stunning pieces of jewellery he could have invested in.
‘This tiara was held in the Italian royal family from the 1800s until they were forced into exile five years ago,’ Florian said. ‘And now it shall remain in my family for generations to come. This is one of those pieces that I never intend to part with.’
‘I hugely admire the former queen,’ Delphine said. ‘I recall her saying that her only regret during the war was not killing Adolf Hitler herself when she was in the same room as him, and I’ve always presumed she was quite capable of it. She’s one of those rare women who is both feminine and forthright, so it’s fitting that you’ve chosen her favourite tiara. I imagine it’s absolutely priceless.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Florian said. ‘And you’re right, it is priceless. It is to be the jewel in my personal collection, for want of a better expression.’
‘It’s stunning, Florian. Thank you for showing it to me.’ She tucked her legs up beneath her as Florian smiled at her, his expression hard to read.
‘I showed it to you for a reason, Delphine,’ he finally said, placing the tiara beside him and reaching for both her hands. ‘I would like you to choose one of the sapphires so that I can have an engagement ring made for you.’ Florian kissed her knuckles, his dark brown eyes never leaving hers as his voice lowered to a whisper.
‘Florian—’ she began.
‘I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, Delphine. I don’t want to hide any more. I want the world to know you are to become my wife, and this is my way of showing you what you mean to me.’
Tears filled her eyes, a solitary drop sliding down her cheek as she looked away, wishing it were so easy, wishing she was free to make her own decisions in life. The tiara caught her gaze, and she wondered what heartbreak it had seen, what love it might have been witness to; what sorrow.
‘You know it’s not so easy as my simply saying yes. If it were…’ She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. When they were together like this, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. But outside the walled gates of his compound, of the beautiful, secluded property by the lake that had been their private oasis these past few months, they couldn’t be seen together freely.
Florian nodded, his hands guiding her closer until she was curled on his knee, her arms around his neck, tucked tightly to his chest. The tiara would be nothing without one of its sapphires, its value hugely diminished if it were ever to be offered for sale with a missing stone, but she knew that was what he was trying to tell her: that he would break up the most valuable piece in his collection, the piece that meant the most to him, for her. It was abundantly obvious that he had the funds to buy her the most expensive diamond from Tiffany’s, and yet he was willing to sacrifice one of the precious sapphires as a gesture of his love.
‘I am nothing without you,’ Florian murmured into her hair. ‘Please, say yes. Let me find a way for us to marry.’
Neither am I, Florian. Without you, I too am nothing.
Delphine looked up at him, her fingers grazing his cheek as she pressed her mouth to his in a long, slow, warm kiss.
‘Yes,’ she eventually whispered against his lips. ‘I will marry you, Florian. If you can find a way, then I promise you. I will marry you.’
1
LONDON, 2022
Georgia stepped out of the taxi and hurried down the narrow London street, double-checking the address on her phone. Older-style buildings stretched down both sides, with the exception of a modern, glass-fronted design sandwiched between the brickwork at the very end, bearing a discreet sign announcing that it was the law firm she was looking for—Williamson, Clark & Duncan. She’d told herself all morning that she wasn’t going to go, right up until the moment she’d walked out of her office, convinced the letter she’d received was a hoax.And yet here I am.
