Diana smiled. “Let’s go and ask Giulia.” She rose and waved Toby to his feet. “Come along. We all have to help.”
Looking distinctly doubtful regarding his ability to do so, Toby rose and followed them into the kitchen.
* * *
With Toby “helping,”the jam-making session was decidedly more hilarious than Diana had imagined such an endeavor could possibly be.
They were tidying the kitchen as the island’s bells tolled for four o’clock.
When, fifteen minutes later, they adjourned to the patio with drinks and cakes, Diana glanced anxiously toward the front door. Telling herself she was worrying unnecessarily and that the boys would return at any minute, she sat with the others to sample their raspberry jam.
But when the bells sounded once for the half hour, even Toby and Giovanni looked concerned.
“Perhaps,” Toby said, “we should go and look around. They can’t be far.”
“Nowhere on the island is far”—Giovanni pushed back from the table—“but it won’t hurt to go and look to see what has delayed them.”
Hugely relieved, Diana was debating whether to go, too, when a rap fell on the front door.
The door was unlocked; the boys wouldn’t knock.
Puzzled-verging-on-concerned looks were shared, then Giovanni rose and, with Toby and Diana at his heels, went to open the door.
Their confusion grew when they beheld a young man wearing the robes of an acolyte from the seminary.
He smiled tentatively and spoke in halting English. “I come bearing a message from our prior, Maestro Cerruti, regarding your two lost lambs.”
* * *
Toby wasn’t surprisedthat Diana insisted on accompanying him to the seminary. The entrance lay just along the street, and the acolyte led them directly to the prior’s study and ushered them inside.
Following Diana into the comfortably furnished room, Toby saw the prior, a kindly old man with whom he was acquainted, struggling to hold in his amusement as he chatted with Roland and Bryce. The boys were seated on footstools before the prior’s large armchair, their expressions a mixture of contrition, interest, and quiet hope.
As Toby and Diana walked in, the gazes of all three of the room’s occupants swung their way.
Hope flared higher in the boys’ eyes, while the prior’s amusement deepened.
Smiling, he nodded to Toby. “Aha, my son. It is, indeed, you to whom these children referred. When they told me they were Cynsters, I wondered if they were… connections of yours.”
From the gleam in the prior’s eyes, he was exceedingly curious as to the possible relationship.
“In a manner of speaking, maestro, they are.” Toby glanced at Diana and introduced her as Miss Locke.
She inclined her head to the prior and murmured a greeting, then swept forward to gather the boys to her.
Watching the boys eagerly accept her embrace, Toby explained, “I’m escorting Miss Locke, the boys, and their sister through Italy and on to England, and we decided it was best that the children pretend to be ours. That attracts less attention all around.”
The prior tipped his head in understanding, although the twinkle didn’t leave his eye. “An understandable precaution.”
“We were very grateful to receive your message, maestro.” Straightening and releasing the boys, Diana looked at them sternly. “We were on the verge of starting a search.”
Both boys hung their heads.
“We would have come back at four o’clock,” Roland mumbled, “except by then, we were here.”
“And that,” Diana declared, “brings us to the most pertinent point. Why are you here?”
She kept her gaze on the boys, but they slid sidelong glances at the prior.
