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‘What a nasty shock. I’m surprised you want to shake my hand.’
‘It isn’t your fault,’ Gino said at once.
His grasp, like everything about him, was warm, enclosing her hand in both of his.
‘We must meet properly and talk,’ he said.
‘Yes, there’s a lot to talk about,’ she agreed. Suddenly she burst out, ‘Did I do wrong to come to your father’s funeral? Perhaps it was tasteless of me, but I only—look, I meant well.’
‘Yes, it was tasteless of you,’ said a dry, ironic voice. ‘You have no place here. Why did you come?’
‘Rinaldo, please,’ Gino said in a swift, soft voice.
‘No, he’s right,’ Alex said hastily. ‘I made a mistake. I’ll go now.’
‘But we’re having a reception in the Hotel Favello,’ Gino said. ‘Enrico was Poppa’s dearest friend, and you’re part of Enrico’s family, so naturally you’re invited.’
He glanced at his brother, waiting for his confirmation. For a moment Rinaldo’s manners warred with his hostility. At last he shrugged and said briefly, ‘Of course.’
He turned away without waiting for her answer.
‘The hotel isn’t far,’ Gino said. ‘I’ll show you.’
‘No need, I’m staying there,’ Alex told him. ‘I arrived last night.’
‘Then shall we go?’ He offered her his arm.
‘Thank you, but I’ll make my own way. You have guests who’ll want your attention.’
She hurried away before he could argue, and rejoined Isidoro, who fell into step beside her.
‘If you’re going into the lion’s den I’m coming with you,’ he said.
‘That might be a good idea after all,’ she agreed.
As they walked the short distance to the hotel Alex said, ‘He really did have a lot of friends, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he was a much-loved man. But the people at the wake won’t just be his friends and lovers. They’ll be the vultures hovering over that mortgage, and you’ll be very interesting to them.
‘Watch out for a man called Montelli. He’s greedy and unscrupulous, and if Rinaldo sees you talking to him it’ll make him mad.’
‘Well,’ Alex said, apparently considering this, ‘since everything I do is going to make that man angry, I think I’ll just go right ahead and do what suits me.’
The Hotel Favello was a Renaissance building that had once belonged to the Favello family, wealthy and influential for centuries, now fallen on hard times.
It had been turned into a luxury hotel in such a way that every modern comfort was provided, but so discreetly that nothing seemed to have changed for centuries.
Alex went up to her room first, so as not to arrive too soon, wishing she had time for a shower. It was June and Florence was hotter than anything she had experienced in England. Standing in the sun, she had felt the heat spreading over her skin beneath her clothes, making her intensely aware of every inch of her body.
But there was no time for a shower if she were to join the reception. She mopped her brow and checked her appearance in the mirror. She looked, as always, immaculate.
It would have been over-the-top to wear black for a man she hadn’t known, but she was formally dressed in a navy blue linen dress, with a matching coat, adorned only by one silver brooch. Now she tossed aside the coat before going downstairs.
She was relieved to see that the reception room was already crowded, so that she attracted little attention.
Isidoro scuttled to greet her and pointed out some of the others.
‘The ones glowering at you in the corner are the other members of Enrico’s family,’ he said.
‘Don’t tell me they’re annoyed with me too?’ she exclaimed.
‘Of course. They were expecting to inherit more.’
‘So I’m in the firing line from both sides,’ she said with a touch of exasperation. ‘Oh, heavens!’
‘This is Italy,’ Isidoro said wryly. ‘The home of the blood feud. Here they come.’
Two men and two women appeared solidly before Alex. Greetings were exchanged, not overtly hostile, but cautious. The older man, who seemed to be the spokesman for the group, muttered something about having ‘necessary discussions’ later.
Alex nodded agreement, and the group moved off. But behind them was a middle-aged man of large proportions and an oily manner. He introduced himself as Leo Montelli, and said that the sooner they talked the better.
After him came another local landowner, and after him came the representative of a bank. Alex began to feel dizzy. One thing was clear. The message about who she was and why she was here had gone out loud and clear to everyone in the room.
It had certainly reached Rinaldo Farnese, who was watching her steadily. His face was inscrutable, but Alex had the feeling that he was mentally taking notes.
‘Isidoro, I’m leaving,’ she said. ‘This shouldn’t be happening here. It isn’t seemly.’
‘Shall I fix appointments with them for you?’
‘Not yet,’ she said quickly. ‘I must talk to the Farneses first. For now I’ll just slip away.’
‘Look,’ Isidoro said.
Rinaldo was cutting his way through the crowd until he reached her and said very softly, ‘I want you to leave, right now. Your behaviour is unseemly.’
‘Hey, now look—’
‘How dare you dance on my father’s grave! Leave right this moment or I’ll put you out myself.’
‘Signore—’ Isidoro was vainly trying to claim his attention.
‘I was about to leave anyway,’ Alex said.
‘To be sure, signorina, I believe you.’
‘You’d better,’ she said losing her temper. ‘Signor Farnese, I dislike you at least as much as you dislike me, and I won’t stand for being called a liar. If this wasn’t a solemn occasion I would take the greatest pleasure in losing my temper in a way you wouldn’t forget.’
She stormed out without giving him the chance to answer. If she could have sold the entire farm out from under him she would have done so at that moment.
The Hotel Favello was in the Piazza della Republica, in the medieval heart of Florence. Here Alex was close to the great buildings, the Palazzo Vecchio, the Duomo, whose huge bulk dominated the Florence skyline, the fascinating Ponte Vecchio over the River Arno, and many other places she had promised herself that she would visit before she left.
On the evening of the funeral she decided to eat out, preferably in a restaurant where she could gain a floodlit view of the buildings.
She’d had a shower as soon as she left the reception, but before getting dressed she had another one under cold water. Thankfully the onset of evening was making temperatures fall, and the room had good air-conditioning, but she felt as though the heat had penetrated down to the core of her.
She started to put on a pair of tights, but discarded them almost at once, disliking the suffocating sensation of anything clinging to her flesh. She rejected a bra for the same reason.
When she finally slipped on a white silk dress she wore only a slip and brief panties beneath, because that was the only way she felt her body could breathe.
Just as she was about to leave there was a knock on her door.
She opened it to find Rinaldo Farnese standing there.
He had removed the jacket of his smart black suit, and was holding it hooked over the shoulder of his white shirt, which had been pulled open at the throat. His hair was untidy, his face weary, and he looked as though he had discarded the strait-laced persona of the funeral with as much relief as she had discarded her coat.
‘This won’t take long,’ he said, pushing the door further open and walking into the room.
‘Hey, I didn’t invite you in,’ she protested.
‘I didn’t invite you either, but here you are,’ he responded.
‘And I’m just going out to dinner,’ she said.
At this point a gentleman would have at least offered her a drink. Rinaldo’s only response was a shrug.
‘Then I’ll be brief,’ he said.
‘Please do,’ she replied crisply.
‘First, I suppose I owe you an apology for my behaviour this afternoon.’
She gaped at him, totally taken aback. The last thing she had expected from this man was an apology.
‘After you left I spoke to Isidoro who confirmed that you’d been about to depart of your own accord, and that you too had used the word unseemly.’ He took a deep breath and spoke as though the words were jerked from him. ‘I apologise for doubting your truthfulness.’
‘I appreciate that,’ she said, ‘all the more because it half killed you to say it.’
‘I’m not known for my social skills,’ he agreed wryly.
‘I’d never have guessed.’
‘You think to disconcert me with irony? Don’t bother.’
She nodded.
‘You’re right. You don’t care enough about other people’s opinions to mind whether you have social skills or not,’ she said gravely. ‘I’m sure rudeness has its advantages, besides being less trouble.’
This time there was no doubt that she got to him. He eyed her narrowly. Alex looked straight back at him.
‘May I remind you that I only came to that reception on your brother’s invitation?’ she said. ‘It wasn’t my idea, and I certainly wouldn’t have come if I’d known what would happen. Perhaps it’s I who owe you an apology for my clumsiness.’
They regarded each other warily, neither of them in the least mollified by the other’s conciliatory words.
Despite her exasperation Alex was curious about him. After the sleek, smooth men she knew in London, meeting Rinaldo was like encountering a wild animal. The feelings that drove him were so powerful that she could almost feel them radiating from him. He was controlling them, but only just.
She thought of David, who never did anything that hadn’t been planned beforehand. She couldn’t imagine him losing control, but with Rinaldo Farnese she could imagine it only too easily.
Strangely the thought did not alarm her, but only increased her curiosity.
He began to stride impatiently about the room in a way that told her he was happier outdoors, and rooms suffocated him. Now she appreciated how tall he was, over six foot, broad-shouldered but lean. He was lithe, not graceful like his brother, but athletic, like a tightly coiled spring.
‘So now you’ve seen them all,’ he said. ‘All the vultures who are lining up to swoop. They’ve calculated that your only interest is money. Are they wrong?’
‘I—well, you’re certainly direct.’
‘I came here to know what your plans are. Is that direct enough for you?’
‘My plans are fluid at the moment. I’m waiting to see what develops.’
‘Do you fancy yourself as a farmer?’
‘No, I’m not a farmer, nor do I have any ambitions to be one.’
‘That is a wise decision. You would find us two to one against you.’
She surveyed him with her head a little on one side. ‘You don’t believe in sugar coating it, do you?’
‘No,’ he said simply, ‘there’s no point. What are your plans?’
‘To discuss the situation with you. The vultures can think what they like. You get the first chance to redeem the loan. Look, I’m not a monster. I know money can be difficult. In my own country I’m an accountant—’
‘I know,’ he said impatiently. ‘Somebody who works with money. And that’s all you care about—money.’
‘Enough!’ she said in a sudden hard voice. ‘I won’t let you speak to me like that, I’m not responsible for this situation.’
‘But you don’t mind benefiting from it?’
‘I don’t mind benefiting under Enrico’s will because that’s what he wanted. I dare say he would have left me money, but his cash was tied up in you. You’re acting as though I have no right to recover it. I’m sorry if it’s come as a shock to you, but it isn’t my fault that your father didn’t tell you.’
‘Be silent!’ The words were swift and hostile and the look he turned on her was like a dagger. ‘Do not speak of my father.’
‘All right, but don’t blame me for a situation I didn’t create.’
He was silent for a moment and she could see that she had taken him aback. After a while he said, ‘Nobody doubts your right to accept your inheritance, but I suggest that you be careful how you go about it.’
‘What you mean is that you demand that I go about it in the way that suits you,’ she replied at once.
Something that might almost have been a smile passed over his bleak face and was gone.
