‘Yes, I’ve heard of Signorina Dacre.’ Gino’s smile had an almost conspiratorial quality, as if to suggest that they were all in this mess together.

‘I’m beginning to feel as if the whole of Florence has heard of me,’ she said, smiling back and beginning to like him.

‘The whole of Tuscany,’ he said. ‘Sensations like this don’t happen every day.’

‘I gather you knew nothing about it,’ Alex said.

‘Nothing at all, until the lawyers were going through the paperwork.’

‘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.