The huge bridge, heavy with buildings and shops, crowded with people crossing even now, cast a deep shadow along the quayside.

“It can take hours to get across,” he said. “It is the only bridge, the only crossing. Really, another should be built but the watermen won’t allow it…”

“So many shops,” she said longingly. “And is that a church right in the middle?”

“The chapel of Saint Thomas á Becket. People used to say that you should go in and give thanks to God just for getting to the middle of the bridge because it takes so long to get through the crowds. But it is closed now.”

“And is your house on the other side?”

“Oh no! Those are all merchants’ houses and tradesmen. My house is farther west.”

“Why, how far is it? Can we walk to it?”

“It’s a good hour’s walk,” he said dampeningly. “And, no lady would cross the bridge on foot. You should take a wherry.”

Prompted by the hundreds of bells chiming the three-quarter hour she turned their walk. “I wanted to see the City. We will go farther another day.”

“The quays are not suitable for a lady,” he said. “Not unaccompanied. And not during working hours.”

“But how am I to get anywhere?” Impatiently she gestured to the looming bridge. “How am I to get to London if that is the only way to the City?”

In silence, they went quickly back along the quay, the way they had come.

“It is not what I hoped for at all,” Livia told him, as they walked past the row of poor warehouses. Ahead was a young man and woman walking arm in arm.

Livia hurried forwards, all smiles. “Now, you must be Johnnie and Sarah!” she exclaimed, putting back her veil and stretching her hands to the young woman. “I am so glad! And how lucky that we should meet here! I am your aunt! Is it not ridiculous? That you should have an aunt such as I? But, indeed, I am the widow of my dear Roberto, and he is your uncle, so I must be your aunt, come to England to live with your mother and grandmother.”

The girl, dark-haired and dark-eyed, crowned with an exquisite bonnet of navy blue with a dark blue veil, took the widow’s outstretched hands and kissed her in welcome. “Mama wrote that you’d come, I’m honored to meet you, Nobildonna. And this is my brother, Johnnie.”

Her brother snatched his hat off his fair head and bowed low.

“Ah, but you may kiss my hand.” The Italian widow sparkled at him. “I am your aunt after all! I believe you could even kiss me on the cheek.”

Shyly, he took her hand and bent and kissed it, then he turned and met James Avery’s intent gaze.

“Sir?” he said.

“And this is my good friend and an old friend of your family,” the Nobildonna said blithely. “Roberto’s tutor when he was a boy, you know. A friend of the Peachey family. Come to visit your mother and grandmother.”

The young man hesitated as his sister stepped forward and curtseyed. “We never have guests,” he said simply.

James felt his throat tighten as he stared at the young man. The youth and he were matching heights, the boy had inherited Alinor’s fair hair and dark gray eyes but there was something about his forehead and brow that was an echo of the Avery family, that could be seen in a dozen dark oil portraits hanging in Northside Manor. His straight honest gaze was that of a Yorkshireman; James found himself looking at his own self-deprecating, crooked smile. “My son,” James said silently to himself. “This is my son. I meet him at last.” Aloud he could say nothing but “Good day,” to the pretty girl before him, and offer his hand for the young man to shake.

Johnnie Stoney was a polite young man; he shook hands with a little bow of his head to the well-dressed stranger and offered his arm to his newly arrived aunt. With Sarah and James Avery following, he opened the front door and ushered them in.

Alys came out of the counting house and saw the four of them together. At once the smile of welcome froze on her pale face.

“Look who I met on my walk!” Livia exclaimed delightedly. “Your beautiful children and Milord Avery! I have brought them all home with me. See how lucky I am! My second walk out, and I am surrounded with friends.”

Alys recovered herself. “I didn’t expect…”

Sarah gave her mother a hug. “It’s five. Didn’t you hear the bells?”

Johnnie bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. “We all met on the doorstep.”

“Let’s sit! Go in! Go in!” the Nobildonna said happily. “I’ll go and take off my hat. Shall I tell Tabs to bring tea?” She turned a laughing look on them all. “I suppose you all want tea? The English always want tea.”

Johnnie glanced from his silent mother to the stranger. “We usually have a glass of small ale,” he said awkwardly.

“Oh! So much better! I will be only a moment.”

Even when she had left the room her presence lingered like a hint of perfume. They were silent, and took seats in silence, but for James, who remained standing, passing his hat from one hand to another. Johnnie was puzzled and looked at his mother, sensing her hostility; Sarah was watching James.

“Ma was going to come down for dinner,” Alys said pointedly.

“I won’t stay,” James tried to reassure her. “But may I see her before I go?”

Before her children, Alys could not refuse him outright. “I think she’s too tired.”

A light footstep in the hall, the door opened, and Livia came in, the maid following with a tray of glasses and a jug of small ale.

“Do you still brew your own ale?” James asked Alys. She did not even look at him, let alone reply. Johnnie watched his mother, puzzled at her rudeness to a guest.

“Did you drink it before? In Sussex?” Sarah asked. “Did you know us then?”

“Yes. Long ago. Before you were born,” he told her, taking a sip of his glass. “It was the best I had ever tasted then and this is still as good.”

“We have our own malthouse in the yard,” Johnnie told him. “It’s brewed to my grandmother’s recipe. She chooses the herbs for it, and she watches the malt being chitted. Sometimes she even turns it herself.”

James nodded. “I would know it anywhere.”

“I had such a lovely walk,” Livia remarked. “And it was such a pleasure to meet you all just there on the quayside.” Smilingly, she turned to Alys. “I put my head around the door of Mia Suocera when I went upstairs to take off my hat, and she said she would see Milord. Shall I take him up?”

Before Alys could refuse, James rose to his feet and followed Livia from the room.

“Don’t be long!” Alys called. “She must not be overtired. I don’t…”

Johnnie rose to his feet too. “Is everything all right, Ma?” he asked in an undertone, as the two left the room. “Is anything wrong?”

His mother glanced up at him as if she would beg him for help but could find no words. “She doesn’t realize,” was all she said. “She does not understand that your grandma should not have visitors.”

“But Grandma said that they could go up?” Sarah pointed out. “And if she’s well enough to come down for dinner with us, why shouldn’t she have a visitor from the old days?”