‘Certainly. I don’t have a base in London. This seemed the best idea. May I say that you look magnificent? Each man there will envy me.’
‘Don’t talk like that,’ she said sharply.
‘Why not? Isn’t it what every woman likes to hear?’
‘I’m not every woman. I’m me. Ben used to say things like that, as though all that mattered was how he seemed to other people. It was horrible, and if you’re the same the whole thing’s off. In fact—’
‘Forgive me,’ he said, interrupting her quickly. ‘You’re right, of course. I shall say no more about your beauty. My car is waiting.’
Vincente took the velvet wrap that she’d brought out, placing it delicately around her shoulders.
The limousine stood by the entrance, the chauffeur holding open the rear door. Elise slid gracefully into place in the back seat and he followed her.
It was a short journey to a street in Mayfair, and a door that seemed to fade unobtrusively into the wall. Set into it was a small plaque that said ‘Babylon’.
Elise raised her eyebrows at one of the most exclusive nightclubs in London. Only members were admitted and membership was almost impossible to obtain. Ben’s application had been refused, much to his fury.
But Vincente Farnese, despite having no base in London, was a member who received an immediate respectful greeting.
‘We’re a little early,’ he said as they descended the long stairway, ‘so we can eat in peace and talk quietly before the music starts.’
He was a skilled host, with a connoisseur’s knowledge of exquisite food and wine. Elise had thought she wasn’t hungry, but when she tried the miniature crab cakes with sauce rémoulade she discovered otherwise.
For a few minutes they paid the food the tribute of silence, but she smiled and nodded in recognition of his choice. She was beginning to relax. Somehow it no longer seemed bizarre to be here on such a day, as though these hours existed in a cocoon, away from real life. Tomorrow the problems would be there, but tonight she could float free of them.
‘Why did you tell that woman I had a heart of stone?’ she asked. ‘You know nothing about me.’
‘We needed to convince her that you were formidable.’ After a moment he added, ‘And every woman can turn her heart to stone when she needs to. I think you’ve sometimes needed to.’
‘True. She wasn’t the only one.’
‘Was he ever faithful to you?’
‘I doubt it. He must have taken up with her pretty soon after our marriage.’
‘Does that surprise you?’
‘Nothing I discover about Ben surprises me any more.’ She shrugged. ‘Even the way he died.’
‘I heard some strange rumours about that.’
‘You mean the woman he was with when he had the heart attack? She vanished so nobody knows who she was.’
‘A ship that passed in the night.’
She gave a wry smile. ‘There was a whole flotilla of those.’
‘That must have been very hard for you.’
‘I feel sorry for him more than anything, being left alone like that. I may not have been a very good wife, but I’d have stayed with him when he was ill.’
‘Weren’t you a good wife?’
‘No,’ she said shortly. ‘I wasn’t.’
‘Surely you must have loved him at some point?’
‘I never loved him,’ she said simply, wondering why she was telling so much to this man.
‘That’s very interesting.’
‘I see. You’re another who thinks I married Ben for what I took to be his vast wealth. Give me patience!’
‘I don’t—’
‘Listen, you said yourself, I don’t care what people say about me. You’re right, and “people” includes you. Think what you like.’
Silence.
‘I apologise,’ he said quietly.
‘No, I suppose I should apologise,’ she said wryly.
‘Don’t spoil it. I’m impressed—almost as impressed as I was when you dealt with Mary. I made a note then not to get on your wrong side. Can’t you tell that I’m shaking in my shoes?’
‘Oh, stop it,’ she said, laughing unwillingly.
‘It’s natural that your nerves should be on edge after what you’ve been through.’
‘And stop being sympathetic and understanding. It doesn’t suit you.’
‘How shrewd of you to have spotted that!’
Another silence, until Vincente said in a voice full of relief, ‘Ah, here’s our main course.’
It was roast tenderloin of beef with sauce Béarnaise, served with red wine, which he poured for her.
Suddenly he spoke in Italian. ‘Ben told me you’d be valuable to him in Rome. He said you’d been there and spoke Italian pretty well.’
She replied in the same language. ‘I studied fashion in Rome before I married him. My Italian really isn’t that good. I haven’t spoken it for a while.’
‘It’s not bad,’ he said, reverting to English. ‘You’d soon become fluent again. How long were you there?’
‘Three months.’
‘And in that time you must have had many admirers.’
He spoke in a mischievous voice and she laughed in return.
‘I had flirtations. After all, you know—Italian men…’ She shrugged, keeping it light.
‘I know that no true Italian man could look at you without wanting to become your lover,’ he said in the same tone.
‘Maybe it wasn’t just what they wanted. Perhaps my own wishes came into it as well,’ she said with a touch of irony.
‘And you’re telling me that not one young man managed to make himself agreeable to you? Ai-ai-ai! The men of my race are losing their touch. Not a single one?’
‘I forget,’ she riposted. ‘There was such a crowd.’
He laughed aloud, his eyes gleaming with appreciation, and raised his wineglass in salute.
‘Truly you are a cold-hearted
