‘Neither do I. This is a cold-blooded Anglo-Saxon. She works with money, and that’s all she’ll care about.’

He raised his head suddenly, and there was a fierce intensity in his eyes.

‘We have no choice,’ he said. ‘We have to get rid of her.’

Gino jumped. ‘How? Rinaldo, for pity’s sake-!’

At that moment he could have believed his brother capable of any cruel act.

Rinaldo gave a brief smile, which had the strange effect of making his face even more grim than before.

‘Calm down,’ he said. ‘I’m not planning murder. I don’t say the idea isn’t appealing, but it’s not what I meant. I want to dispose of her legally.’

‘So we have to pay her.’

‘How? All the money we have is ploughed into the land until harvest. We’re already overdrawn at the bank, and a loan would be at a ruinous rate of interest.’

‘Can’t our lawyer suggest something?’

‘He’s going soft in the head. Since she’s single he had the brilliant idea that one of us marry her.’

‘That’s it!’ Gino cried. ‘The perfect answer. All problems solved.’

He spread his hands in a triumphant gesture and gave his attractive, easy laugh. He was twenty-seven and there was still a touch of the boy about him.

‘So now we have to meet her,’ he said. ‘I wonder if she’ll come to Poppa’s funeral?’

‘She won’t dare!’ Rinaldo snapped. ‘Now, come and have supper. Teresa’s been getting it ready.’

In the kitchen they found Teresa, the elderly housekeeper, laying the table. As she worked she wept. It had been like that every day since Vincente had died.

Rinaldo wasn’t hungry, but he knew that to say so would be to upset the old woman even more. Instead he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, silently comforting her until she stopped weeping.

‘That’s better now,’ he said kindly. ‘You know how Poppa hated long faces.’

She nodded. ‘Always laughing,’ she said huskily. ‘Even if the crops failed, he would find something to laugh at. He was a rare one.’