"Odd to be in this room without him," he said, glancing about. "Your husband and I planned all of our trips from here." He sat on a large leather chair. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Lady Ashton. I shouldn't speak of such painful things." Devoid of sentimental attachment to my deceased mate, I felt distinctly uncomfortable in the company of his closest friend.

"Never mind. Would you like some tea?" I reached for the bell.

"No, don't trouble yourself. I am here on business."

"Then perhaps you should see my solicitor."

"I've just come from his office. You are aware, of course, of your husband's love of Greece and the Aegean?" he asked, looking directly into my eyes.

"Greece?" I asked, not wanting to reveal more ignorance of my husband's interests than absolutely necessary.

"As I'm sure you know, he spent months there every year. While he was ill in Africa..." Mr. Hargreaves paused, looking at me questioningly.

"Please go on."

"He so looked forward to taking you to Greece and showing you the villa."

"The villa?" I had vague memories of my solicitor's mentioning such a place, but he had not given me any details, assuming I was too overcome by grief to concern myself with such things.

"It was not part of the family property. He owned it himself and wanted you to have it. It's a magnificent place, sweeping views of the Aegean. You'll love it. I think he intended to surprise you by taking you there." He paused again. "When he was sick, it was a subject to which he continually returned: 'Kallista must go to the villa.' I promised to arrange the trip for you."