‘That’s good,’ Mariana said brightly. ‘I’m afraid we were a bit bad and skimmed the diary for the relevant dates rather than reading it properly.’
‘So we know now our theory was right.’ Angelo paused. ‘Did you read on after Thomas’s birth?’
‘I did.’ Jocelyn said. ‘There’s nothing more about the painter. He’s not a relative of yours, is he?’
‘No. Just my grandfather likes his work and collected it,’ Angelo said.
‘I think Carulli was a total bastard, seducing her and abandoning her like that. But I guess you can like the art without liking the artist,’ Jocelyn mused.
‘It’s a shame Carulli didn’t try to do the right thing by Alice,’ Mariana said. ‘But it seems she was happy with Robert.’
‘Oh, she was. I think they had a good life. Did you see, she taught him to read and write? I think she made the best of it. And I think they were happy. Keith says there’s a lovely monument to her in the church. I’ll have a look through the rest of the papers, though. See if there are any letters or anything,’ Jocelyn promised.
‘My producer is going to love the story,’ Mariana said. ‘So I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask to film some of your records.’
‘For a story with a happy ending? That’d be terrific,’ Jocelyn said. ‘Keith will be thrilled, too.’
* * *
‘We’ve got the truth now,’ Mariana said as Angelo drove them back to London. ‘And enough proof to say that the painting is definitely by Carulli. Your grandfather is going to be so happy when we tell him.’
‘I think,’ Angelo said, ‘he’s going to be a lot happier about something else.’ He smiled. ‘About you and me.’
On Saturday morning, when they reached the palazzo, Angelo’s mother and sister greeted Mariana with effusive hugs.
‘We love your show,’ Camilla said.
‘And how wonderful that you’ve found out the truth about Babbo’s painting,’ Lucrezia said.
‘My producer’s absolutely thrilled, and so is my supervisor at the university,’ Mariana said with a smile. ‘Though I couldn’t have done it without Angelo.’
‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ Angelo said. ‘Teamwork.’
‘That’s a good thing, teamwork. Like I had with my Frederica,’ Leo said.
‘It’s important for a happy relationship,’ Lucrezia said. ‘You don’t have to be the same. Your father and I were opposites in many ways, Angelo. But we always worked together.’
‘It’s the same with my parents,’ Mariana said. ‘They’ve been married for forty years and they still hold hands.’ She smiled at Camilla. ‘And I’ve been looking forward to meeting Serafina. Angelo tells me he fell in love with her the second he held her.’
Camilla’s eyes widened.
‘She knows everything,’ Angelo said softly. ‘And it’s fine.’
‘It might not always be easy, but it’ll be fine,’ Mariana agreed.
Camilla blinked back the tears. ‘That’s... That’s good to know.’
‘I hope you don’t mind, but I saw this beautiful soft rabbit—just like one I bought my nephew when he was born—and I thought Serafina might like it,’ Mariana said.
‘You can never have too many toys,’ Cammie said, accepting the gift. ‘Thank you. Would you like a cuddle with the baby?’
‘I’d love one.’ She cradled the baby tenderly, and seeing her like that gave Angelo a jolt. She looked so right. After Stephanie had left him, he’d thought that it wouldn’t be possible for him to make a family. And yet when Mariana looked up and caught his gaze, he knew that she was thinking the same thing. That it wasn’t going to be quick or easy, but they’d support each other and eventually they’d get their dream.
‘Come and sit down and tell me about my Girl,’ Leo said.
They retired to the Red Room; Mariana sat on the sofa, cuddling the baby, and Angelo sat beside her.
‘It took us a while to piece the story together,’ Mariana said. ‘But it starts in 1862, when Carulli painted the portraits of the owner of Barrington Manor, Charles Fisher, and his wife Harriet. The following summer, he was taken on as the drawing master to their younger children—including Alice, their seventeen-year-old daughter.’