‘Is it to your taste?’ Rafaello’s aunt asked. Her English, though accented, was as impeccable as her nephew’s.
‘It’s delicious.’ Magda found herself answering spontaneously.
Signora Calvi smiled benignly. ‘The pears are imported, alas, of which I do not approve—I, like most Italians, prefer to eat the fruits that are in season, and it is too early still for pears. But the ham is excellent. It is Parma ham—from a city perhaps better known in England for its cheese—parmesan.’
She was clearly going out of her way to make her feel comfortable, Magda realised. The kindness was appreciated, even if the explanation had been unnecessary. Parma ham was a familiar, if expensive item in British supermarkets these days, though doubtless quite inferior to what she was eating now.
‘But there are many Tuscan specialities you will enjoy as well, I am sure,’ Signora Calvi sailed on, placing an emphasis on Tuscan. ‘Tuscany is famed for its simple cuisine, for dishes such as bistecca alla fiorentina, which is steak charred on coals, as well as duck and boar.’
Her husband held up a hand as he drank some of his wine. ‘Do not be so harsh on poor Parma, my dear—after all, it shares a link with Tuscany, does it not?’
It was the first time Magda had heard Rafaello’s uncle speak, apart from his quiet greeting to her, and he, like the rest of the family, spoke fluent English. His voice was a little dry, but good-humoured all the same. He glanced at her now, his face expectant, as though she were one of his students he was quizzing.
‘This is Magda’s first visit to Italy, Bernardo, she is unlikely to know your reference—’ Rafaello’s interjection was swift.
‘The Duchess of Parma.’ Magda spoke almost simultaneously as she remembered what her guidebook had told her. ‘Marie-Louise, the Duchess of Parma and Napoleon’s widow, was also the Duchess of Lucca.’
‘Very good.’ Professor Calvi beamed approvingly. ‘You must be sure to visit Lucca very soon—it is a jewel of Tuscany.’
‘I’ve read a little about it in the book I brought with me,’ Magda replied. ‘It is famous for its walls, I believe?’
‘Yes, indeed. They were built at the end of the fifteenth century to repel the Spanish. Lucca succeeded in retaining its independence, and at one point was the only independent civic polity in Italy other than Venice—until Napoleon bestowed Lucca on his sister, Elisa, whom he also made Duchess of Tuscany.’
Magda frowned uncertainly. ‘Was she the sister who was Queen of Naples?’
‘No, that was Caroline, wife of his general, Murat. They, of course, replaced the deposed Bourbon monarchs of Naples, whose queen, also Caroline, has a rather romantic link with England.’
He paused again, clearly awaiting her answer. Magda cast about for the reference.
‘She was friends with Lady Hamilton!’ she remembered. ‘That’s where Emma Hamilton met Lord Nelson—in Naples.’
‘Very good!’ The approving beam came again.
‘My husband is a historian, as you must already suspect,’ his wife interjected dryly, having subjected Magda to a highly assessing and, she surmised, surprised look. ‘Bernardo.’ She turned to her husband. ‘You must not be a bore.’
Magda smiled diffidently. ‘History can never be boring—especially not in a country like Italy—there is just so much.’
She had said the right thing by the professor.
‘And here in Tuscany is the richest history—even the name Tuscany hints at the earliest great Italian civilisation.’
‘The Etruscans?’ ventured Magda.
‘The Etruscans,’ confirmed the professor, and he was away, expansively expounding on the mysterious pre-Roman civilisation that had dominated the region long before Rome was mighty.
Magda was fascinated. All she knew came out of books, but here, across the table from her, was a native and an expert. She sat and listened, quite rapt, as Rafaello’s uncle explained about the major Etruscan sites, their mysterious origins, strange religion and even stranger language that still remained undeciphered.
‘I have always approved of the Etruscans,’ put in his wife at one point. ‘Their women were astonishingly liberated—they ate with the men and owned property, and were quite outspoken.’
Magda hid her smile. She could quite see why the formidable Signora Calvi should approve of such a state of affairs. She found she had glanced towards the head of the table, to see if Rafaello found his aunt’s comment amusingly revealing, but when she looked at his face she stilled.