might be travel weary, and she might not be about to get involved with him, but she still had her pride.
The dinner was adequate. Nothing more, nothing less.
He was tired, she was tired—and yet still they lingered, talking for an hour over their coffee. She asked about Isabelle and Luca’s baby, and how the children were, and he asked her about Jen’s progress and if she’d be off the crutches by the time of the wedding, whenever it would be.
They talked about his time at boarding school, and she told him about her own schooling, in a village just four miles from where she lived.
And then finally they both fell silent, and he looked at his watch in disbelief.
‘It’s late and tomorrow will be a hard drive,’ he said. ‘We should go to bed.’
The word bed reverberated in the air between them, and then she placed her napkin on the table and stood up a little abruptly. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry, you should have told me to shut up.’
He should. He should have cut it short and gone to bed, instead of sitting up with her and hanging on her every word. He paid the bill and escorted her back to her room, leaving a clear gap between them as he paused at her door.
Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t, and if he got any closer, he didn’t trust himself to end it there.
‘Buonanotte, bella,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll wake you at five thirty.’
She nodded, and without looking back at him, she opened the door of her room, went in and closed it behind her. He stared at it for a second, gave a quiet, resigned laugh and let himself into his own room.
This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? For her to keep her distance, to enable him to do the same?
So why did he suddenly feel so lonely?
It was like coming home.
This time, when she saw the fortress-like building standing proudly on the hilltop, she felt excitement and not trepidation, and when the children came tumbling down the steps to greet them, there was no look of horror, but shrieks of delight and hugs all round.
Antonino just wanted his father, but Francesca hugged her, and Lavinia hung on her arm and grinned wildly. ‘Lydia!’ she said, again and again, and then Carlotta appeared at the top of the steps and welcomed her—literally—with open arms.
‘Signorina! You come back! Oh!’
She found herself engulfed in a warm and emotional hug, and when Carlotta let her go, her eyes were brimming. She blotted them, laughing at herself, and then taking Lydia by the hand, she led her through the courtyard to her old room.
This time there were flowers on the chest of drawers, and Roberto brought in her luggage and put it down and hugged her, too.
‘Grazie mille, signorina,’ he said, his voice choked. ‘Thank you for coming back to help us.’
‘Oh, Roberto, it’s my pleasure. There’s so much Carlotta can teach me, and I’m really looking forward to learning.’
‘I teach,’ she said, patting her hand. ‘I teach you everything!’
She doubted it. Carlotta’s knowledge of traditional dishes was a rich broth of inheritance, and it would take more than a few experiments to capture it, but it would still be fascinating.
They left her to settle in, and a moment later there was a tap at the French doors.
‘The children and I are going for a swim. Want to join us?’
She was so tempted. It was still warm here, much warmer than in England, although she knew the temperature would drop once it was dark. The water in the pool would be warm and inviting, though, and it would be fun playing with the children, but she felt a shiver of danger, and not just from him.
‘I don’t think so. I’m a bit tired. I might rest for a little while.’
He nodded, smiled briefly and walked away, and she closed the door and shut the curtains, just to make the point.
The children were delightful, but they weren’t why she was here, and neither was he. And the more often she reminded herself of that, the better, because she was in serious danger of forgetting.
She didn’t have time to think about it.
The harvest season was in full swing, and from first thing the following morning, she was busy. Carlotta still tried to do too much, but she just smiled and told her she was allowed to give orders and that was all, and after the first two days she seemed happy to do that.
She even started taking a siesta in the middle of the day, which gave Lydia time to make a lot of the preparations for the evening without prodding Carlotta’s conscience.
And every evening, she dished up the food to the workers and joined them for their meal.
They seemed pleased to see her, and there was a bit of flirting and whistling and nudging, but she could deal with that. And then Massimo appeared at her side, and she heard a ripple of laughter and someone said something she’d heard a few times before when he was about. She’d also heard him say it to Francesca on occasions.
‘What does bella ragazza mean?’ she asked in a quiet moment as they were finishing their food, and he gave a slightly embarrassed laugh.
‘Beautiful girl.’
She studied his face closely, unconvinced. ‘Are you sure? Because they only say it when you’re near me.’
He pulled a face. ‘OK. It’s usually used for a girlfriend.’
‘They think I’m your girlfriend?’ she squeaked, and he cleared his throat and pushed the food around his plate.
‘Ignore them. They’re just teasing us.’
Were they? Or could they see the pull between them? Because ignore it as hard as she liked, it wasn’t going away, and it was getting stronger with every day that passed.
A few days later, while she was taking a breather out on the terrace before lunch, Isabelle appeared. She was pushing a pram, and she had a little girl in tow.
‘Lydia, hi. I was hoping to find you. Mind if we join you?’
She stood up, pleased to see her again, and hugged her. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Congratulations! May I see?’
‘Sure.’
She peered into the pram, and sighed. ‘Oh, he’s gorgeous. So, so gorgeous! All that dark hair!’
‘Oh, yes, he’s his daddy’s boy. Sometimes I wonder where my genes went in all of this.’ She laughed, and Lydia smiled and reached out to touch the sleeping baby’s outstretched hand.
It clenched reflexively, closing on her fingertip, and she gave a soft sigh and swallowed hard.
He looked just
