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Aria knew right away which little girl was Jenna and Farrell’s daughter. She had Jenna’s glossy brown hair and green eyes, but there was something about the defiant tilt of her chin that recalled the man who had pulled Aria from the room inAthens.
“This is Lily,” Jenna said, smoothing back the little girl’s hair. She turned to the other child, a riot of black curls creating an ebony halo around her cherubic face. “And this is Lessa, Carmen’sdaughter.”
Aria assumed Carmen was the woman in the kitchen. The little girl named Lessa was herminiature.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lily and Lessa,”Jennasaid.
“Girls…” Jennapromptedthem.
They both giggled. “It’s nice to meet you,” they said inunison.
“Can we go to the barn, Mummy?” Lily asked, clearly on to more fascinating matters than a guest in thehouse.
“I suppose,” Jenna said. “Tell Anthony you have to be back in time forlunch.”
They raced down the patio steps and tore across the field, their shrieks snatched by the wind as they rounded the corner of thehouse.
“Poor Anthony,” Jenna said, taking a seat next to Aria. “He’s the caretaker here and Carmen’s husband, but I’m thinking about paying him Mrs. Pendleton’s salary when she’s not here. The children follow him likeshadows.”
Aria felt like she’d fallen down therabbithole.
A lovely, sun-drenchedrabbithole.
“Mrs.Pendleton?”
“Sorry!” Jenna laughed. “She’s Lily’s nanny. She’s with her son and daughter-in-lawrightnow.”
Aria nodded and took a sip of her coffee. She had to resist the urge to groan aloud as the dark, smokey liquid hit her tongue. It had been a long time since she’d had propercoffee.
She had a flash of the dingy room, the greasy takeout containers, the thinmattress.
She stuffed it down, into the dark places in her heart where she held things like the fire that had killed her parents and the worst moments of Primo’s mentalillness.
Carmen stepped onto the patio and set a plate in frontofAria.
“It’s good?” sheasked.
Aria looked at the poached eggs sprinkled with crumbled goat cheese, the crusty bread and fresh butter, the olives and the small dish filled with orange sectionsandfigs.
“It’s wonderful,” Aria said, her stomach grumbling. “Thankyou.”
The woman smiled and refilled Aria’s coffee before disappearing into thehouse.
“You’re not eating?” Aria askedJenna.
“I ate with the girls,” Jenna said. “Please, you must bestarving.”
It was an understatement. It hadn’t occurred to Aria to use the phone in her room to call the kitchen when she’d finished her bath last night. She’d wanted nothing but Damian’s skinonhers.
Had wanted only to feel him inside her making her forget everythingbuthim.
“I am pretty hungry,” Aria admitted, picking upherfork.
She savored the first bite of eggs, salty and warm, then dug into the food without an ounce of self-consciousness. They made small talk about the estate and about the life Jenna led moving between London, Cornwall, and Tuscany, with occasional trips toNewYork.
By the time Aria finished eating, she felt like she’d known Jenna forever. She leaned back in her chair and polished off her third cup ofcoffee.
“That was delicious,” she said. “I can’t thank youenough.”
