‘No, of course there is no reason why we should not be friends. We always were, John. You did so much for me—and for Arabella too. I thought we were friends before I left for Italy?’
‘Yes…’ John hesitated as if he wished to say more, but then stopped. They had reached the dining room and he drew her chair for her, seeing that she was comfortably settled before seating himself. Discovering that Elizabeth Cavendish was on his other side, he turned to exchange a word or two with her, leaving Sarah to speak to her brother on her other side.
It was not until the first course had been served that he spoke to Sarah again. ‘This is very good wine, is it not? I must ask Charles who his wine merchant is and where I may find him. I should like to lay a stock of this down in my own cellar.’
‘It is Italian, I think,’ Sarah replied. ‘The Conte di Ceasares was an important winegrower in the district and he taught me many things about wines. I believe I am not wrong about this, though it was not grown in Tuscany—perhaps it comes more from the north of the country.’
‘You seem to have known the Conte very well?’
‘Yes, he was our close neighbour. We actually stayed in a small villa he owned. It belonged to his family and he sometimes allows others to hire it for a while. We were very lucky to stay there. It was beautiful, though not as magnificent as the Conte’s own villa.’
‘He is, one imagines, quite wealthy?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Sarah agreed. ‘And very kind and a good friend to us.’
‘You were fortunate,’ John said. ‘One hears of travellers who return less than satisfied with the conditions they discover on their travels, but you seem to have been well served.’
‘Yes, we were,’ Sarah said. ‘I do not think Mama would have stayed so long otherwise. She came home to visit Arabella and Charles, of course, and to see her grandson. We shall stay for the birth of their second child, but I think Mama might wish to return to Italy for the winter sometimes. She likes Italy very well.’
‘And you—will you return?’
‘I am not sure,’ Sarah said. ‘I have many friends there, of course—but it depends on…’ She shook her head because she simply could not answer his question without giving too much away. ‘I confess that I like the climate. England can be very cold in winter.’
‘Ah, yes,’ John agreed. ‘Their winters are far less harsh than our own, of course, especially in the south, I believe.’
‘Oh, yes, considerably better.’
Sarah was aware of a slight restraint on his part. He lapsed into silence and then turned to speak to Elizabeth again. After a few moments he laughed, and Sarah was a little envious of his ease of manner with the countess. It was obvious that they were good friends. She wished that she might have been as easy with him, but they exchanged only a few words throughout the rest of the meal, discussing the various dishes and complimenting Arabella on her chef.
Sarah was a little relieved when the ladies left the gentlemen to their port. John was clearly not entirely comfortable in her company and she thought it a shame—she had hoped for something more.
‘How do you find it here in England?’ Elizabeth Cavendish took a seat next to Sarah and smiled at her. ‘I expect you will miss Italy. It is very beautiful. Daniel took me there on our honeymoon. I loved it. We talk of going back again one day, but I should like to have a daughter first. Once our family is complete, then we may travel more.’
‘Yes,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Arabella is taking great care. She would have liked to come to London with us, but has decided against it because the doctor warned that she ought to take things easily. Being shaken for hours in a carriage is not exactly a good idea when a lady is with child.’
‘No, you are right,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We are coming up at the same time as you go to town, Sarah. We have decided to give a ball for our friends. My brother was married last year and this is the first time we shall all be together again. We decided to make the most of it—in case I cannot go up to London next year.’
‘It will be nice to have some acquaintance there,’ Sarah said. ‘I have been used to having friends in Italy and I shall feel a little awkward at first, I think.’
‘Oh, I dare say you will soon make many acquaintances,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘But we must meet often, Sarah. I shall be delighted to take you into my circle, though we are rather inclined to be bluestockings. I hope you like to read?’
‘Yes, indeed I do,’ Sarah replied, her face lighting up. ‘I love poetry, though I do not mind novels—but poetry is my first love, and music, of course.’
‘Do you play the pianoforte?’
‘Yes, a little,’ Sarah replied. ‘I play the harp as well, but I think I prefer the pianoforte.’
‘Then we shall be good company,’ Elizabeth said. She wrinkled her smooth brow. ‘Tell me, was John in spirits at dinner? I have been concerned for him recently. It was difficult to persuade him to come with us on this visit. He spends too much time alone these days. Daniel and he are such friends, but even he sees less of John than he would like. Before he married he visited us almost every week.’
‘I dare say he has been grieving,’ Sarah said. ‘He has had an unfortunate loss.’
‘Yes, though I am not sure if…’ Elizabeth shook her head as if she had said too much. ‘I know that he has been grieving, but it is more than a year since Andrea died. He cannot keep himself shut up from the world for ever. He blames himself, of course, but it was not his fault.’
Sarah would have liked to ask more, but at that moment the gentlemen came into the room and she did not like to push for more information. Now was not the time. She would ask Elizabeth what she meant another day.
Arabella was beckoning to her. Sarah got up and went to her, agreeing to a request to play for them. Sitting down at the pianoforte, she began to play a sonata by Mozart that she was very fond of, her face assuming a dreamy expression as she was carried far away. Sarah was smiling as she thought of an evening in Italy when she had played this piece. It was the night when Conte di Ceasares had first proposed to her.
‘What are you thinking?’ a voice asked and she discovered that John had come to stand by her side. ‘You look as if you are lost in the music.’
‘Yes, I was,’ she said and stopped playing, for she had reached the end of the piece. ‘Do you not love Mozart’s work? I think he was so wonderful, but his own people did not appreciate him until it was too late.’
‘Too often the case,’ John said and reached over her to play a few notes himself. Sarah smiled and let him play for a moment before joining in again.
‘You enjoy music, sir. Do you often play?’
‘Sometimes,’ John said. ‘Perhaps we may perform a duet one evening, Miss Hunter?’
‘Yes, why not?’ she said. ‘We must practise together before we play for others, I think.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said and smiled oddly. ‘But I have interrupted you. Please continue.’
‘I think Arabella has sent for the tea tray,’ Sarah replied and stood up. ‘Another time, perhaps.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ he said. ‘Excuse me. I am promised to Charles for a game of billiards. I shall hope to see you in the morning, Miss Hunter.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said. ‘Goodnight, Mr Elworthy.’
She watched as he, Charles and Daniel left the room, before taking her seat close to Arabella so that she could help to pass