She opened her arms and held Tommaso in a long, warm hug. He was eight years old, but she’d always said it was as if he’d walked the earth before. He was her sensitive child, the one who worried about everything and anything, and she knew howhard he would find leaving Italy behind. He didn’t even like the cover on his bed being changed to a different colour, let alone the home he lived in.
‘When your father makes his mind up, there is little I can do to stop him.’
‘But will you try?’
Delphine didn’t tell him that she already had, that she didn’t want to go any more than he did. ‘Yes, my love, I will try. But if we are to leave Italy for Geneva?’ She smiled and kissed his cheek. ‘We will find a wonderful home and meet new friends. It will be every bit as wonderful as our home in Italy, I promise. And we have family there, too.’
‘Mama, Mama!’ came an excited call, before little Isabella came running down the hallway, her long plait bouncing behind her.
Delphine reluctantly let go of her son and bent to fold her daughter against her in a warm hug. Isabella’s eyes were bright when she held her at arm’s length, her smile contagious.
‘Mama, when are we travelling? When can we go on our adventure?’
‘Soon, darling,’ she said, smoothing her daughter’s hair as Isabella pulled away. ‘But for now, you need to get ready for school.’ She turned to Tommaso and gave him a gentle smile. ‘Both of you. You let me worry about when we might be moving, and what the arrangements are.’
It wouldn’t have been an understatement to tell the children that she would be doing enough worrying for the three of them combined.
Delphine watched them go; her heartstrings pulled taut as she caught her breath.
‘Coffee, Signora?’
She straightened her shoulders and smiled when one of their maids spoke to her. ‘I shall have coffee and acornetto. Please have them sent up to my room.’
Delphine walked up the stairs, grateful that the children were now on their way to school, her husband gone for the day, and her house filled only with servants who would move quietly about until their jobs were done.
Within minutes, one of them knocked and entered her room, placing a tray beside her bed.
‘Will that be all, Signora?’
Delphine studied the younger woman, the way her lower lip trembled, and she couldn’t tell whether it was from nerves or whether she was trying to stop herself from smirking. Was she terrified of her mistress, or was it something else? Or was she simply overthinking everything today?
‘I require my stationery,’ she said, looking the young maid up and down and trying to decipher her expression. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘No, Signora,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper as she bowed her head.
‘Send Signora Martina to me when she arrives,’ Delphine demanded. ‘Other than that, I’m not to be disturbed for the rest of the day.’
She would write a letter to her sister and tell her that she would be travelling home to Switzerland.And as much as she hated the way Giovanni had told them about the move, she felt a flutter of hope deep in her stomach.
Perhaps a change is just what we need.
4
PRESENT DAY
Georgia had her bag tucked tight to her shoulder when she walked back into Christie’s auction house the following day. She knew it was terrible timing—she expected they would be busy preparing for that evening’s auction—but she hadn’t been able to wait.
I’m probably wasting my time. I’m probably wasting everyone’s time even thinking this is worth something. But despite her thoughts, she found that she kept walking until she found someone who could help her. At the very least, she’d discover what the gem was and whether it was worth selling or not. Either way, she’d decided she no longer wanted it in her possession.
‘Excuse me,’ Georgia said, clearing her throat. ‘I’m hoping to speak to someone about having a stone appraised.’
The attendant smiled. ‘We usually don’t have time for walk-ins, our business is predominantly by appointment only, but’—she smiled—‘what is it you would like appraised? If you’re wanting us to sell it on your behalf, you’ve missed the deadline for our upcoming jewellery auction…’
Her voice trailed off as if she was almost indifferent, but Georgia reached into her bag anyway, taking out the little box and opening it.
‘I thought it might be a tourmaline,’ Georgia said, as she held the stone in her palm. ‘I saw the display you had yesterday, and I thought?—’
‘Please come with me,’ the woman said, her voice suddenly hushed. ‘Right this way.’
