‘Family’s important,’ Angelo said.
‘I know.’ Wasn’t that the whole reason he’d asked her to help? Because his grandfather was important to him? ‘But so is this project.’
‘Then we’ll ask Nigel to make it another evening,’ he suggested.
She sighed. ‘There are days when I really wish I could be in two places at once. I’ll text Sophie to see if she can switch her date night to tomorrow, and I’ll promise Olly a new book. We’ve just discovered this series about Roman children who solve mysteries and I loved reading to him.’
‘Sounds good.’
Though was it her imagination or was there a tiny hint of longing and despair in his expression? She blinked, and it was gone. Then again, he’d said his marriage broke up because he didn’t want children, so it must’ve been her imagination.
She texted Sophie, who replied instantly that it was fine. ‘I’m going tomorrow instead,’ she said with a smile. And she almost, almost asked him if he’d like to come with her. But of course he wouldn’t. He had his own work to catch up on. And, although he had a new niece, he barely talked about her. He obviously wasn’t that keen on children.
Although they managed to sort out a lot of the papers, they found nothing else from the period they both really wanted to know about by the time that Nigel arrived.
‘Good to meet you, Mr Beresford,’ Nigel said.
‘Angelo,’ Angelo said, shaking his hand.
Nigel looked at the evidence they’d found. ‘There’s not quite enough, yet,’ he said. ‘Your main painting could be by another artist.’
‘Someone who studied with him,’ Mariana agreed. ‘Except his biographer didn’t turn up any evidence.’
‘Or maybe his biographer didn’t realise it was important,’ Nigel said. ‘If you’re wading through letters and diaries to tell someone’s life, how do you decide what to use and what to leave out?’
‘The letters are in Florence,’ she said. ‘We could check those.’
‘Find the evidence and we’ll get a camera out there,’ Nigel said. ‘I just want one more link in the chain before I give this the go-ahead.’
‘Whether you film it or not,’ Angelo said, ‘we’re doing the research. Is the archive in Florence open on Saturday?’
Mariana checked on her phone. ‘No. Monday to Friday, by appointment.’
‘Save their number. I’ll call them first thing tomorrow and make an appointment,’ Angelo said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ON THURSDAY MORNING, Angelo rang the archive in Florence. Mariana could hear him speaking in fluent Italian while she worked through the next layer of papers. Then he moved the phone away from his ear and turned to her. ‘They can fit us in tomorrow. Does that work for you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good.’ He smiled at her—a smile that gave her goosebumps—and resumed his conversation. ‘They’re going to have the papers ready for us tomorrow,’ he said when he’d ended the call. ‘I’ll book our flight for first thing in the morning.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
As they continued working on the papers, Mariana found herself glancing at him, remembering that kiss. Kisses—because it had happened more than once.
Could she trust her judgement, this time round?
And, if she could, would it be better to wait until after they’d finished this project? It was a complication she thought both of them could do without. Yet, at the same time, she was so drawn to him. He was the first man since Eric who’d made her want to take an emotional risk.
A couple of times their hands accidentally touched while they were sorting out the papers, and it made her skin tingle where his fingers touched hers. Was it the same for him? She dared not look at him, just in case she was making a fool of herself.
‘Do you want to leave earlier tonight?’ Angelo asked. ‘You’ve put in a lot of hours this week, and I’m guessing you want to spend some time with your nephew before he goes to bed.’
She wasn’t quite sure whether Angelo wanted to put some space between them, or if he was genuinely being kind. Maybe both. ‘Thanks,’ she said.