Free Lessons of Desire by Madeline Hunter Page B

trying circumstances than the last time. Your mother was much esteemed by inferior scholars like myself, and generous to us. I was grateful for the introductions her reception afforded me."
    Servants appeared and Matthias rattled off instructions regarding the baggage. "Come inside and refresh yourselves. My other guests take their siestas but they will join us soon."
    She walked up the stone path and followed Matthias into the loggia. She glanced through its arches and her breath caught.
    The view was unreal, a prospect that begged for a paintbrush and canvas. If gazing up this hill was impressive, looking down left one in awe. The town's roofs and ribbons of lane spilled straight down. The drop was so steep one marveled that anything had been built here. The endless sea, the low sky, the embrace of the promontory—it all created a vast, dreamlike panorama from a precarious hold on the world, one that was thrilling and romantic, drenched in beauty but tinged with danger.
    "It is a wonder that you do not simply live in this loggia and ignore whether the rest of your home falls to ruin. Mr. Greenwood."
    "I almost do. Miss Blair. Here and on the other terraces and balconies. I go to the parish church even though I am not a Catholic, and light candles for the soul of the distant relative whose legacy allows me to live in paradise."
    A woman greeted them when they entered the airy, marble-floored drawing room. She was an elegant, olive-skinned native of the country. She possessed a lovely, soulful face permanently touched with a melancholic expression. Her name was Signora Roviale, and the manner in which she came forward and saw to their comfort indicated that this was her home. Matthias Greenwood did not live in paradise alone.
    Another guest ambled in soon after a servant brought some wine. Phaedra recognized him too. He had not been at her mother's funeral, but he had called at their home once or twice when she was a girl. He was so handsome in a golden, fine-boned, noble way that she had almost developed a tendre the first time she saw him.
    "See who is here to celebrate your visit, Roth well," Matthias said. "I wrote and told him you would come down from Naples, and he and his wife traveled from Rome just for you. Miss Blair, allow me to introduce Mr. Randall Whitmarsh, gentleman, scholar, and another refugee from England."
    Mr. Whitmarsh had adopted Continental fashion and manners, reflecting his long years abroad. He muttered bellissima as he bent to kiss her hand, and fussed just enough to prove he had left reserve back in England when he adopted Rome as his main home.
    "It is a joy to meet the daughter of the indomitable Artemis Blair," he said, bestowing a charming, admiring smile.
    Phaedra was not above enjoying a handsome man's attention. She noticed that Lord Elliot kept glancing askance at Mr. Whitmarsh's long hold of her hand.
    "I learned recently of Richard Dairy's passing," Mr. Whitmarsh said, parting her hand. "I see that you are still in mourning, but it was perhaps healthy to come abroad so your grief is assuaged."
    "My choice in fashion made ordering a mourning wardrobe unnecessary, but my father would not have wanted that anyway. He specifically forbade me to mourn when I last saw him."
    She extricated her hand from the gentle grasp of Mr. Whitmarsh. "I did not anticipate that I would meet so many who knew my mother in remote Positano, of all places."
    "We three are all members of the Society of the Dilettanti. Miss Blair. As a woman your mother could not join, but we all eventually called to pay her homage" Mr. Whitmarsh said. "Considering her expertise in Roman letters, it is not so surprising that you meet those who knew her if you visit the lands of the ancient empire."
    "Are you also a member of the society, Lord Elliot?"
    "I joined after my grand tour."
    She had been merely eighteen when her mother died, and not yet admitted into those salons and dinners where Artemis entertained scholars and artists.