‘It is difficult, I know, but it is for the best,’ he said. ‘Once the break is made, you can start to live again.’

She thought how pleasant it would be to sit by the fountain forever. The thought of moving even a step, let alone going into the villa and giving the orders for packing, as well as dealing with the hundred and one arrangements that would be attendant on her return to England, was wearisome. But she knew it must be done. Making an effort, she stood up. She shook her hand, sending droplets of water sparkling through the air, and as she moved her hand to and fro her wedding ring caught the light. It had been a symbol of all her hopes and dreams, but now it seemed to mock her, and yet she could not bring herself to take it off.

The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel aroused her from her reverie and looking up she saw that Annie was hurrying towards her.

‘Ma’am—’ Annie began breathlessly.

‘What is it?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Yes, why do you disturb your mistress?’ asked the Prince, standing also and resting a hand protectively on Elizabeth’s shoulder. ‘Is it a matter of urgency?’

Annie looked awkward and she said, ‘No, not really.’

‘Then do not disturb your mistress now,’ said the Prince.

Annie hesitated then bobbed a curtsey and turned back to the villa, but then she turned again to Elizabeth and said, ‘I just came to tell you that I’ve finished hemming the new handkerchiefs as you asked, Ma’am, and I’ve put them in your valise.’

‘Thank you,’ said Elizabeth absentmindedly.

The Prince waved Annie away with an imperious gesture and Annie departed, but Elizabeth still lingered.

‘Do it now,’ said the Prince. ‘You will not have the strength if you wait, and there can be nothing for you here, only pain. Do it whilst your husband is not here. He has taken his horse and gone riding. Write him a note and I will see that he gets it. My coach is at your disposal. I will have word sent ahead to the inns along your route so that they will be expecting you, and I will send a courier with you to guard you on your journey and to make all the necessary arrangements for you as you travel.’

‘You are very kind.’

‘It is nothing,’ he said. ‘I could do no less for beauty in distress. Take heart, you will recover. You think not, but a few weeks in the warmth of your family will do much to ease your pain.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘my family.’

She thought of Jane and her Aunt Gardiner and she longed to be at home.

‘You need only to see that your things are packed and you may leave the rest to me,’ he said.

The Prince offered her his arm and he escorted her back to the villa, talking to her gently of inconsequential matters until they reached the door.

Once in her room she rang for Annie, then sat down to write her note to Darcy. The words would not come, but at last she managed to say what needed to be said.

My dear Darcy,

I cannot stay here any longer. I am not making you happy and the gulf between us has destroyed all my peace and happiness. I am going home to Longbourn. The Prince has kindly given me the use of his carriage and he is sending a courier with me to smooth my journey. I hope you find what you are looking for. I can see now that it isn’t me.

Elizabeth

She rang the bell again for Annie, but when her maid didn’t come she went downstairs herself in search of the Prince. She found him in the music room with his other guests. She thought how strange it was that they could continue with the house party as if nothing had happened. Sir Edward and Lady Bartholomew, so plump and happy, Monsieur Repar and Mrs Prestin, and all the other guests. For them it was a day like any other.

As soon as the Prince saw her he slipped away, leaving his guests singing and talking together, and joined her by the door. He took the note from her, promising to make sure that Darcy received it, and told her that the carriage was ready for her.

‘I will send one of the footmen upstairs to carry your boxes,’ he said.

‘They are not yet packed,’ said Elizabeth, adding with a glimmer of humour, ‘I seem to have mislaid my maid.’

‘Ah! See, a burden it has been lifted from you, it is always the way. A decision, once made, no matter how difficult, frees the shoulders from the weight of indecision, and that is a heavy weight indeed. Already you are happier, your humour returns. It is good to see you smile, even if only for a moment,’ he said genially. ‘But now, we must find your maid.’

He beckoned to one of the footmen and told the man to go to the servants’ hall and look for Mrs Darcy’s maid.

The footman looked uncomfortable.

‘Well?’ demanded the Prince. ‘What is it?’

The footman said something in Italian and although Elizabeth did not understand every word, she was able to make out that he had just been to the servants’ hall and that Annie had not been there. He looked as though he could say more but did not know if it would be welcome.

‘Say everything,’ commanded the Prince.

The footman said, haltingly, that Annie was a friend of one of the gardeners, and that it was the gardener’s afternoon off, and that the footman had seen them heading for the forest.

‘Ah!’ said the Prince, with a wry smile. ‘Amore! It is very wrong of her, of course, but what will you? No matter.’ He turned to Elizabeth. ‘I will send one of my maids to help you and to accompany you to the nearest inn, and I will send Signorina Annie to you when she returns.’ He said to the footman, ‘See to it.’ The footman bowed and withdrew, and the Prince continued to Elizabeth, ‘I am sorry you have had this inconvenience.’

Elizabeth said, ‘It doesn’t matter. At least someone’s love is prospering. I am only sorry that I am taking her away.’

‘But you will return,’ said the Prince. ‘You are welcome here at any time, you know that, I hope, and you must bring your charming family with you the next time you come to Italy. They will all be very welcome here. Your mother will like it, do you think?’

‘I am sure she would,’ said Elizabeth, smiling again as she thought of her mother exclaiming over the furniture, then trying to persuade every gentleman at the villa that either Kitty or Mary would make him a charming wife.

Whether the Prince would enjoy the visit as much as her mother she very much doubted!

‘Then you must visit me again soon, and stay with me for as long as you like,’ he said with a bow.

Elizabeth thanked him for his generous invitation and returned to her room, where her spirits once more drooped. To leave this place where she had been happy, for in the first days at the villa she had still hoped that she and Darcy would become one, was a trial to her. Once gone, she would have to admit that hope was dead.

The arrival of one of the Prince’s maids at least gave a new turn to her thoughts as she instructed the girl, and very soon Elizabeth’s things were packed and a footman arrived to convey them to the carriage. With one last, lingering look around the room, she followed the footman downstairs.

The carriage was waiting for her by the side door. It was an elaborate affair with a florid coat of arms emblazoned on the side. Two footmen flanked it –‘For your protection,’ said the Prince—both dressed in the Prince’s scarlet livery, and the courier stood by its side. He was a handsome young man, charming and respectful, and he took his place next to the coachman on the box, where he was joined by the maid.

‘Until we meet again,’ said the Prince, bowing over Elizabeth’s hand.

‘Thank you for your hospitality,’ she said, ‘and thank you for your kindness and your advice.’

‘It is nothing,’ he said. ‘Take courage, you will soon be with your family and then your happiness, it will recover.’

He handed her inside and she arranged her skirts around her on the sumptuous silk-upholstered seat.

The footmen took their places, standing on the runners on each side of the carriage, then the coachman called to the horses and they began to move, the heavy carriage going slowly forward until it began to pick up pace and bowl down the drive.

The fountains, which had been singing on her arrival, now seemed to be weeping, and Elizabeth was weeping too. Tear after hot tear, held back until now by pride, came freely, and in the solitude of the carriage, she gave way to her emotions.

‘This will not do,’ she told herself after a while.

She sought out her valise, in which Annie had stowed her newly hemmed handkerchiefs, and found it under the seat. She pulled it out and opened it—and then her heart stopped beating, for there, on the top of her clothes, was a bundle of letters, all in her own hand, and addressed to her family and friends.

She lifted them up with disbelief.

There must be some mistake, she thought, scarcely able to believe the evidence of her own eyes, and with trembling hands she untied the bundle and tore open the top letter.

My dearest Jane,

You will be surprised when I tell you that we are not going to the Lake District after all, we are going to France…

She picked up another one:

My dearest Jane,

…We are now established in Paris, and it is the most beautiful city…

And another:

My dearest Jane,

I wish you were here. How I long to talk to you. So much has happened that I scarcely know where to begin. We left Paris a few days ago and we are now in the Alps.

All of them, every letter she had written since leaving England, they were all there. Her mind raced. What were they doing there? Who had put them there? Why had they never been sent?