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“Ooh!” Fenny went scarlet with delight. “Did Mummy see, Jess?”
“Run across and ask her, if you like.”
Lorenzo laughed as he watched the little girl race across the grass. “She will break hearts, that one.” Then his eyes narrowed as he watched Fenny chattering to Jonah. He frowned. “Strange. Now that I see them together the child greatly resembles the bridegroom. How can that be?” Colour ran up suddenly beneath his olive skin. “Dio—she is Leonie’s child?” he whispered.
“Certainly not!”
Lorenzo turned to look at Jess, his eyes narrowed in sudden, dark suspicion.
“It’s not what you think,” she whispered hastily, relieved when Angus Buchanan stood up and put an end to conversation by tapping his glass for silence. The circumstances of Fenny’s birth were complicated, and not something to discuss with a man who, difficult though it was for her to remember, was nevertheless still very much a stranger.
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