"Sounds good. No one's ever called me fragile before," added Jess with a genuine chuckle. "How did the exams go?"

"All right, I think."

"Which means brilliantly, of course. Miss Genius."

Kate grimaced and crossed her fingers. "Don't tempt fate, please!"

When Jess was alone she stretched out in the big bed, deciding to ring Lorenzo later. Right now she just couldn't face it. All she wanted to do was sleep and sleep, and wake up to find herself back at the moment before Isabella Moretti had innocently put an end to the fairytale.

When Jess woke rain was lashing against the windows. As usual, ever since her flight from Italy, the first waking moment was the worst, but Jess lay quiet, weathering the pain as she tried to think of what to say if-when-she rang Lorenzo. Here at home she was her rational self again, with the courage to face the truth. She loved Lorenzo whether he'd lied or not.

Jess listened suddenly, aware that someone was in the house.

"Is that you, Kate?" she called. She jumped out of bed and pulled on Adam's bathrobe, and went to the door, yawning. "If so you can make some tea." She peered over the banisters on the small landing and looked down for a long, frozen moment into Lorenzo's haggard, upturned face. His hair was wet, and his eyes held a look which pierced Jess to the heart.

"Forgive if I startled you, Jessamy. Kate insisted I wait alone until you wake," said Lorenzo, his English less polished than usual.

"How-why are you here?" said Jess with difficulty.

"I flew to England last night. I stay at the Chesterton again." Lorenzo thrust a hand through his wet hair, his bleak, bloodshot eyes holding hers. "Please dress and come down. I wish to talk to you, Jessamy. After that-" He stopped, his mouth twisting. "After that, if you no longer desire my company I shall return to Firenze."

Jess looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Just give me five minutes."

"Grazie," he said tonelessly, and turned away.

Jess dressed at top speed in a faded pink sweatshirt and old jeans grown soft with washing, then went downstairs to Adam's sitting room. Lorenzo was standing in front of the fireplace, dressed informally in a blue chambray shirt and jeans very much like hers, though Jess had no doubt they bore a more exalted label. But he wore beautiful leather shoes, as usual, and a ram-marked suede jacket lay on the back of a chair.

"You look tired, Jessamy," he said quietly.

"So do you."

He nodded. "I have slept very little since you left. Even less after I received your letter."

She looked away, not ready, yet, to get to the heart of the matter. "You must be cold. Can I make you some coffee?"

"Grazie."

Jess went through to the kitchen to fill Adam's kettle, and Lorenzo followed her, watching silently while she spooned instant coffee into beakers and set out milk and sugar.

"How did you know I'd be here at Friars Wood?" she asked quietly.

"I rang your parents when I arrived."

She looked up in surprise. "They didn't tell me!"

He nodded soberly. "I requested their silence. I feared that if you knew I was here you would refuse to speak to me." He paused, but Jess remained silent, her eyes fixed on his. "Jessamy," he said at last, "you would give me no reason for your change of heart, but I have now discovered this."

So not much point in hurling accusations after all. Not that she wanted to any more, now they were face to face. "What exactly did you discover?" Jess asked gruffly, needing to establish the facts.

"Eventually I found that my sister told you how Renata died," said Lorenzo flatly.

Jess handed him a mug of coffee, then led the way back to the other room. Lorenzo followed her to the large chesterfield sofa, waited until Jess curled up in one corner, then seated himself at the other end to sit staring into the empty fireplace. And at last the silence between them grew so tense Jess could bear it no longer.

"If things had continued as planned. Before Isabella told me, I mean," she said carefully, "had you any intention of telling me the truth at some time?"

"Yes. Though the truth was not really mine to tell." Lorenzo set the mug down on a small table .beside him, then turned weary eyes on her. "I have never lied to you, Jessamy."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" she demanded. "You told me you had never lived a normal married life with Renata. Yet she died in childbirth."

Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "This is true. I received much sympathy, many, many condolences. They sickened me."

Jess eyed him narrowly. "But in the circumstances surely it would have been odd if you'd received no sympathy at all, Lorenzo?"

"I would have preferred that," he said with force. "But how could I tell my family, my friends, that for the last few months of my marriage I had been forced to live an even greater lie than in all the years before? Roberto, Isabella, neither of them knew the truth. I have never told anyone until now." He met her eyes. "I was not the father of Renata's child."

"Lorenzo!" Jess stared at him in horror, then slid along the couch to take his hand. "You mean she had a lover?"

Lorenzo looked down at the hand grasping his. "I thought I would never feel your touch again," he said unevenly.

Jess's self-control, which had been notable by its absence since her return from Italy, abruptly deserted her. Tears streamed down her face, and with a smothered exclamation Lorenzo put his arms round her and held her close.

"Piangi!" he commanded, smoothing her head against his shoulder, and Jess obeyed, letting the hot, salt tears wash away the misery of them parting.

"Sorry," she said thickly at last, and pulled away to fish in her pocket for the tissues she was lately never without. "I've cried more this last week than in my entire life." She smiled up at him damply, and almost started crying again when she saw a trace of moisture on Lorenzo's thick black lashes.

"I have been in torment," he said roughly. "I had even begun to wish we had never met."

Jess managed a smile. "I never got as far as that. But-"

"But what, amore?" he whispered.

"Even if we'd never met again I couldn't be sorry that you'd made love to me, Lorenzo."

"To hear you say this-" He let out a deep, shaky breath. "You know that I have only to touch you to want to make love to you again, but it is not for this that I am here."

"You don't want to make love to me?"

Lorenzo tapped a reproving forefinger against her flushed cheek. "You know very well that I do. That I always will while there is breath in my body. But first we must talk, to remove this cloud from our lives."

"If you don't want to tell me about Renata I don't mind," said Jess quickly. "Now I know the truth we can never talk about it again, if you prefer."

Lorenzo shook his head vehemently. "I swore to her that I would never reveal her secret, but I feel a deep need to talk to you, Jessamy. To tell you what no other living person knows about my life. I want no secrets between us, carissimay He drew in a deep breath. "Renata begged me to pose as father of her child."

Jess breathed in sharply. "She asked too much of you, Lorenzo. What happened? Did Renata just fall in love with someone else?"

"When Renata was forced, at last, to tell me what happened," began Lorenzo, his arm tightening round Jess, "she was hysterical with shame, and-and incoherent. That is right?"

Jess nodded. "As well she might be." She looked up in sudden fear. "Don't tell me she was raped!"