In the back of his mind, he made a mental note to learn whether Roland and Bryce could swim.
* * *
While Tobyand the boys fished, Diana spent the morning with Evelyn and Giulia, harvesting fruits and vegetables, then cooking several dishes and, in general, having a relaxing and enjoyable time.
While she assisted Evelyn in squeezing lemons to make another batch of lemon tarts, Diana felt her memories stir. Her mother had taught her in similar fashion, imparting the wisdom of experience while engaged in practical tasks.
She still enjoyed those practical tasks—doing things, making things.
Half an hour later, after they’d slid the next batch of tarts into the oven and sat down to refresh themselves with drinks, over the rim of her glass, Giulia caught Diana’s eye. Lowering the glass, Giulia nodded. “You will make a good mother. You have the caring in you.”
Diana smiled. “My life to date hasn’t allowed for marriage and a family.”
Giulia wagged a finger at her. “We women, we must make time for such things. Especially if it is written in our stars.”
Diana smiled and didn’t argue. In truth, Giulia had a point.
Thinking of that, Diana allowed her gaze to rest on Evelyn—the pseudodaughter who was, it seemed, bringing out Diana’s maternal side.
That thought brought home just how close she’d grown to the little girl.
And how much—how very, very much—she would miss her after she and Toby delivered the children to their great-aunt.
The prospect elicited a pang of prospective loss, like a sharp shard lodging in her chest.
Her gaze continued to rest on Evelyn’s curly head until Evelyn hoisted Rupert the Bear and said he wanted to know if the lemon tarts were ready yet.
Diana laughed, as did Giulia, who then rose and went to see.
* * *
Toby and theboys returned for lunch with a handful of small fish that Diana exclaimed over and congratulated them on and Giulia promised would be just the thing to garnish that evening’s meal.
Satisfied and content, the boys settled at the table and chattered about the new friends they’d made.
The light meal was capped by Evelyn’s lemon tarts.
Several were somewhat misshapen, but Giovanni, Toby, and the boys declared the taste was “magnifico!” and judging by the way the tarts vanished, their praise had been quite sincere.
Finally replete, the company sat relaxing about the table under the loggia.
Toby’s gaze drifted to the lake, currently mirrorlike in its calmness. He glanced at Evelyn. “I’m going to take the boys out in a rowboat to fish on the lake. Would you like to come?”
Evelyn frowned slightly and turned to consult Rupert the Bear, then she looked at Toby and shook her head. “I don’t really like fish—they smell.” She darted a glance at Diana. “And anyway, I’m a big girl now, so I’ll stay and keep Mama company.”
Diana blinked, then shot a glance at Toby.
He faintly arched his brows in reply. Evelyn’s declaration was the first time, outside of those instances when they’d been playing their family charade, that any of the children had spontaneously labeled either of them their parent.
He wasn’t surprised that Diana had reacted to the innocent claiming.
“We have some children’s books here, I think,” Giulia said. “Left by our nephews and nieces, who are now grown.”
“I know where they are,” Lucia said. She pushed up from the table. “I’ll fetch them.”
Diana smiled and nodded, then looked inquiringly at Evelyn. “Perhaps we can sit in the front courtyard and read to each other.”
Evelyn deflated and, in a small voice, said, “I can’t read.”
