‘Hey, Violetta,’ he said, and gently lifted her from the crib.
They had named her after her great-great-grandmother, the forgotten Duchess, somehow lost in all the tales of Fiordelise.
Well, she was forgotten no more.
Violetta’s restored picture was mounted on the gallery wall of their home in Rome, and soon it would be joined by her namesake’s first photo.
Ariana buried her face in her daughter’s and breathed in that sweet baby scent, and then lifted her head and gazed down at her.
‘I cannot believe how much I know her already,’ Ariana said, playing with her tiny fingers, ‘and at the very same time I cannot wait to get to know her more...’
That was, Gian thought as he looked at his wife, a rather perfect description of his love.