Page 54 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

She released him and sat down, and said calmly, ‘I am perfectly well, thank you. It was a very fine occasion, was it not? It was agreeable to me to see Giles’s family in pieno splendore. It has been hard sometimes to remember that he is an English lord, when I see him mostly in shirtsleeves and streaked with mud.’

‘You have known Giles a long time,’ Stuffy said.

‘More years than I can remember. He is like a big brother to me.’

An apprehension he had not even realised he had left Stuffy’s mind. He felt suddenly cheerful. ‘Very good fellow, Giles. One of the best. You have no brothers of your own?’

‘No, I am the only child – cherished and spoiled. Do you have brothers?’

‘Sisters. Three of ’em.’ He thought a moment. ‘I suppose I was spoiled too. The youngest, doted on. Ah, thank you, ma’am, most kind.’ He received a glass of sherry from Mary, sipped, and pronounced it excellent. He wanted, out of politeness, to address some conversation to her, but his eyes and mind were dragged inexorably back to Giulia, who seemed to glow as she sat on another sofa at a little distance in a simple dark green day dress. The colour, he thought, would be his favourite from now on. ‘You are from Italy, I believe?’ he asked, longing to hear her voice again.

‘From Firenze,’ she said

‘Ah, Florence! Le atene del rinascimento,’ he said. The Athens of the Renaissance. He seemed to remember someone had once called it that. Or was that Edinburgh? No, that was the Athens of the North.

Giulia’s eyebrows had risen. ‘You speak Italian?’ she said in surprise.

‘Oh, a few words,’ he said modestly. ‘I learned it as a boy, as one does, but one forgets, you know, one forgets. But,’ he remembered gladly, ‘I have a little place in Italy. In Venice. The Ca’ Scozzesi, on the San Benito canal. Bought by my grandfather, and he left it to me. I’ve visited a few times. Do you know Venice?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I have been there with my parents.’

‘Beautiful city,’ Mary said. ‘Talbot and I had our honeymoon there.’

‘Ah! Perfect. Perfect city for a honeymoon,’ Stuffy said, unaccountably looking at Giulia as he spoke. ‘I should like to go back. Always liked Venice. Shame to leave the house empty. But these old palazzi need a mistress to bring them alive.’ He made himself address Mary. ‘Where did you stay in Venice?’

A conversation grew up, encompassing Venice and Florence – happily for Stuffy, a three-way conversation. And, happily too, he had done the grand tour with a tutor in his youth and had therefore visited the important sights, the galleries and the museums, so he was able to appear in a good light – not just an idle rich man but a man of education, too. He had not finished one dance with Giulia before realising that intellectual attainments were important to her. As the conversation waxed, she seemed to warm.

At last he asked, ‘And what have you been doing, since you came to London – apart from dancing the soles out of your slippers at a grand ball?’

Mary answered for her. ‘Giulia has been seeing the sights. It is her first visit to London. We have taken the day off today, but we shall resume tomorrow.’

‘Indeed? And what do you see tomorrow?’

‘Westminster Abbey,’ Mary said, ‘and the Houses of Parliament, if we have time.’

Excitement rushed up inside Stuffy as he saw the opportunity. ‘Oh, but, my dear ladies, you must allow me to show you around the House. It is rather my milieu. And perhaps entertain you to tea on the terrace afterwards.’

Mary consulted Giulia with a glance, but she answered at once, ‘That is very kind of you, sir. We shall be very happy.’

‘Excellent, excellent. You do me great honour,’ said Stuffy. When he took his leave a little later, with the arrangements made, he was treading on air. Even having to get back into the cab under the close scrutiny of McGregor could not dent his euphoria. He barely noticed the drive home, mentally going through his wardrobe, and wishing there were time to have a new suit made. Thoughts of Venice and Florence whirled about his mind in fragments of brilliant light, blue skies, sun dancing on canals and fountains, and buildings of blinding white, ochre, terracotta and deep blue. Why had he wasted his life in England when there were such places to be? He thought of the Ca’ Scozzesi – he had called it a little place, but it was in fact quite a large palace, painted pink, just off the Grand Canal – and wondered if it was in a fit condition to visit. He should send a telegram. Ah, Venice! Perfect place for a honeymoon, someone had said. He dreamed as the cab rattled back safely north of the river.

‘It is obvious,’ Giulia said to Mary, ‘that a lord can show us the House of Lords better than a mere attendant. Probably he will have access to special parts that others cannot see.’

‘And tea on the terrace is a particular treat, I believe,’ said Mary. ‘The view over the Thames, Westminster Bridge, Lambeth Palace . . . Exquisite!’

Giulia smiled. ‘I love afternoon tea so much, the little sandwiches and cakes, so English. No-one else in the world does it. I shall have much to tell my parents in my next letter.’ She wrote home every two or three days.

Mary said, ‘But has it occurred to you, my dear . . .’ She hesitated, then went on, ‘I find it hard to believe Lord Leake was “just passing”. We are a long way from Berkeley Square.’

Giulia looked puzzled. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I noticed the way he looked at you when you were dancing with him . . . Does it not occur to you that he may be smitten with you?’

‘What is “smitten”? But, no, I can guess – you think he has taken a fancy to me. “Smitten”. I like this word.’ She shrugged. ‘I think he was being polite to Giles’s friend. At home, lecturers who work with Papa are often nice to me at parties.’

‘Hmm,’ Mary said, in a reserved manner.

‘Is something wrong?’ Giulia asked.