‘You have doubts?’ demanded Rose.
‘None!’ He grasped her hand tightly. ‘It is you who have the doubts, not I, Rose. I long to marry you and give you and Bea the life you both deserve. We would be good together,’ he added, his eyes boring into hers to remind her how it had been between them the night before.
‘So for heaven’s sake say yes, Rose,’ said Charlotte and smiled up at Fabio. ‘If Rose and Dante get married in England you’ll just have to let me fly there, darling.’
Fabio flung out a hand to Dante in appeal. ‘In that case, amico, make it soon, yes?’
‘I will do my best,’ Dante promised, and sprang to attention as his mother came out on the loggia. ‘It is time to eat, Mamma?’
‘Subito, figlio mio.’ She smiled at Rose. ‘I have washed the little one’s face and hands with all the others. So now we eat, yes?’
A long table had been set up in the garden with a snowy-white cloth obscured by great platters of food and soon everyone was crowded round it, elbow to elbow, and talking non-stop. The children were seated together at one end, with a parent occasionally jumping up to serve them or settle squabbles. Vittoria and Chiara vied with each other to look after Bea, who was so obviously having the time of her life Rose eventually relaxed, enjoying not only the meal but the feeling of belonging.
Lorenzo Fortinari got up when the wine was poured and held his glass high. ‘A toast to welcome Rose and little Bea to Fortino!’
Everyone surged to their feet to echo the toast, and Rose followed suit, smiling gratefully. ‘From Bea and myself, grazie tante!’
‘Brava, carissima,’ said Dante as she sat down amidst cheers.
She smiled. ‘Just look at Bea. She’s having so much fun.’
He nodded. ‘It is easy to see her gold head among her Italian cousins.’
Mirella leaned forward, rolling her eyes. ‘Vittoria will want to dye her hair blond now.’
Harriet groaned. ‘And Chiara—maybe the boys, too!’
Franco shuddered theatrically. ‘Do not even think of it, per favore!’
At the burst of laughter which greeted this Maria Fortinari came to join them to make sure Rose was enjoying herself and to press her to eat more food.
Rose smiled warmly. ‘Signora, I couldn’t eat another thing, thank you. It was such a delicious meal.’
‘I did not make all of it, cara. Letizia, my cook, is still with me, grazie a Dio.’
‘Ah, but you made the pollo Parmigiano, Mamma,’ said Dante, and kissed his fingers. ‘It was superb, as always.’
‘I make it with the identical recipe.’ Harriet sighed. ‘But it’s never the same.’
Leo patted her hand. ‘It is good enough for me. And you baked the wonderful English apple pies for us today, amore.’
‘Much too wonderful,’ said Charlotte, patting her stomach. ‘I was greedy.’
‘It is only natural right now,’ said Fabio fondly.
At one time Rose would have been painfully envious as she watched the other couples together, but now that she had the chance of Dante permanently in her life, envy could be a thing of the past. Whatever his feelings for her, perhaps it was time to grasp this opportunity with both hands and make their marriage work for Bea’s sake. And for her own, she admitted, her eyes on Dante.