time to spend with me when I visit—he and Federico, his business partner, work so hard, and I understand that he must fit me in when he can.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘I don’t mind. I’m used to sorting myself out alone. It’s just lovely to be here with him now and again—to catch up.’
Would they ever manage to catch up? Lily thought. There were so many years to talk about—so many things to explain and discuss. Would one lifetime be enough?
After a few minutes, Theo said, ‘It’s a bit later than I thought—and I’m getting hungry. Perhaps you’d let me decide where we’re going to eat? I promise you won’t be disappointed.’
Lily didn’t need convincing about that. ‘Wherever we go will be fine by me,’ she said casually.
‘The place I have in mind boasts a panoramic vista of the city—so we’ll have two for the price of one,’ Theo said. ‘Excellent food, and a view as well.’
He was right. And presently, sitting opposite him at a candlelit table, Lily wondered if she was dreaming. This was the stuff of fairy tales, she thought—to be here in this timeless city, on an evening so balmy that there was no need for a shawl to cover her bare neck and shoulders, even if she’d brought one with her that night, and to be sharing delicious food with the handsome Mr Theodore Montague… Not that his appearance made the slightest difference to her, of course, but it was impossible to ignore the glances he attracted from any woman who spotted him. He was after all the quintessential human male that artists and sculptors liked to fashion. He could have been the model for Bernini’s Apollo himself, Lily thought, smiling briefly at the thought.
While Theo chose swordfish for his meal, Lily selected equally delicious veal wrapped in ham and dressed with sage. For a few minutes they said nothing as they ate.
‘You don’t drink, then?’ he asked, as he refilled Lily’s glass with sparkling water, before drinking some of the red wine he’d chosen.
‘Not often,’ Lily said carefully, privately adding to herself, Not with anyone she didn’t really know. And, after all, she didn’t know him—not in any real sense. Of course it was different drinking with Sam…he was the only man she’d ever been able to feel completely at ease with—and she’d had to wait a long time to experience that, she thought ruefully.
Theo had been watching her covertly as she finished the last of the food on her plate, finding himself really liking his dining companion. The cream dress she was wearing showed off her light suntan to perfection, and her fair hair shone with health. Her eyes were cast down as she ate, and he observed how long her lashes were, unusually dark and moist as they rested on her cheeks. He swallowed, picking up his glass, searching for a word that might describe her—but he couldn’t readily find one. She had a sort of diffident air, yet there was an undeniable strength apparent just below the surface. The way she occasionally raised her chin as she spoke indicated a force to be reckoned with at times, he thought. Was she a trustworthy type? Almost certainly. Shy? Not exactly—but not very forthcoming, either. Loyal? From some of the things she’d said her brother obviously meant an enormous amount to her. There was an almost child-like love and regard for him. Theo liked that.
He cleared his throat. ‘So—let’s talk about your plans for the future,’ he said briefly, in a way that he hoped wouldn’t appear intrusive. ‘In spite of what you’ve said, I feel sure you’ve got some good ideas floating around.’
Lily looked across at him, the soft candlelight enhancing the delicate shape of her face. ‘No, I haven’t—not yet,’ she replied honestly. ‘I’m waiting for some inspiration—but so far nothing.’ She smiled. ‘I can’t wait for ever, of course,’ she admitted. ‘My funds will keep me going for a month or two, but not for much longer.’ She stopped what she was saying abruptly. This man was a stranger, she reminded herself again. Or nearly. Be careful. Don’t get close. Don’t let him get close.
She sat back, steeling herself not to become enraptured with the situation she was in—the atmosphere, the company…and the penetrating blackness of those eyes which seemed to enter her very soul. ‘Tell me about your children,’ she said firmly. ‘You said you’ve got three?’
He paused for a moment before replying. ‘Yes. Tom is three, Alexander is five, and Freya is nine.’
‘Your wife must have her hands full,’ Lily said lightly.
‘My wife—Elspeth—is dead,’ he said flatly, not looking at her as he spoke, his gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder into the far distance. ‘Fourteen months ago she succumbed to a virus and was gone in three days.’ His expression was impassive as he spoke, but those dark windows of his soul said it all, becoming blacker and even more intense as he relived the ordeal.
Lily felt a huge wave of compassion sweep over her. What a shock—what a tragedy for anyone to have to suffer, she thought. She let a moment pass before saying anything. Then, ‘I am…so…sorry,’ she said quietly.
He shrugged. ‘We’re surviving it together, the four of us,’ he remarked briefly. ‘Tom and Alex are just young enough to weather the storm fairly easily—but Freya…’ He sighed and looked at Lily, noting that her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. ‘Freya has taken it very badly, I’m afraid. There was never any problem with her when Elspeth was alive—she was a bright, easygoing child—but my daughter seems to have a huge, resentful chip on her shoulder all the time now.’
‘That’s understandable…’ Lily murmured.
‘Of course,’ he replied quickly. ‘And, because of that, when she asked I allowed her to be a weekly boarder at her school, to be with her friends. I must say she seems easier now when she’s back home—which she is full-time now, naturally, because it’s the school holidays. I know she misses her mother, but I can’t take her place, and—well…I’m not sure I understand women,’ he added, looking thoughtful for a second.
‘Are there grandparents around?’ Lily asked.
‘No—’ fraid not. My parents are dead,’ he said slowly. ‘They were both well into middle age when I came along…’ His lip curled. ‘I was probably a very unpleasant surprise.’ He shrugged. ‘They were both practising doctors with busy lives—I never actually saw too much of them during my childhood.’
So, Lily thought, he might have known his parents, but in essence he’d been almost as alone as she had.
‘And Elspeth’s parents…?’ she ventured hesitantly.
‘Her father is alive, but he lives in South Africa. We seldom see him.’
‘So—who takes care of the children?’ Lily asked. ‘When you’re at work?’
‘Well, of course I’ve had to employ nannies…though they’ve seldom been asked to stay overnight.’ The strong mouth tightened as he spoke. ‘As soon as I come home, I’m the one in charge.’
And how, Lily thought.
‘But luckily for me I have Beatrice—or Bea—and her husband,’ he went on. ‘They live nearby. Bea used to help my wife in the house, and then with the babies as they came along. But she’s over seventy, and I don’t want to take advantage of her good nature, even though she says she loves helping out. Which she’s doing while I’m here,’ he added. ‘She and Joe move in and sleep over until I come back—the kids adore them. But—as I said—I don’t want to wear them out.’ He leaned back in his chair, crossing
