She had a glittering reputation as an archaeologist, or a ‘rubble and bone merchant’ as Billy irreverently put it, and this was, as he’d said, right up her street. As she read she hummed softly under her breath.

Foundations of huge building found in the grounds of the Palazzo Montegiano, ancestral home of the hereditary princes of Montegiano, and the residence of the present Prince Gustavo.

The humming stopped.

‘Have you ever been to Rome, Mum?’ Billy asked. ‘Mum? Mum?’

Receiving no reply, he leaned closer and waved his hands. ‘Earth to Mum. Come in, please.’

‘Sorry,’ she said hastily. ‘What did you say?’

‘Have you ever been to Rome?’

‘Er-yes-yes-’

‘You sound half-witted,’ he said kindly.

‘Do I, darling? Sorry, it’s just-he always said there was a great lost palace.’

‘He? You know this Prince Thingy?’

‘I met him once, years ago,’ she said vaguely. ‘How about an ice cream?’

Steering him away from the subject was an act of desperation. Because there was no way she could say to her darling son, ‘Gustavo Montegiano is the man I once loved more than I ever loved your father, the man I could have married if I’d been sufficiently selfish.’

And she might have added, ‘He’s the man who broke my heart without even knowing that he possessed it.’

CHAPTER ONE

‘RING, damn you, ring!’

Prince Gustavo fixed his gaze on the phone, which stayed obstinately dead.

‘You were supposed to call every week, without fail,’ he growled. ‘And it’s been two weeks.’

Silence.

He got up from his desk and went impatiently over to the tall windows through which he could see the stone terrace. On the last of the broad steps that led down to the lawn sat a nine-year-old girl, her shoulders hunched in childish misery.

The sight increased Gustavo’s anger. He strode back, snatched up the telephone and dialled with sharp, stabbing movements.