Deep in thought, the Conte took a sip of his Grappa. He savored the sharp taste, and its heat at the back of his throat, as he swallowed. He needed something to calm his nerves after the meeting with the Proffesore's friend Abu bin Malachi. His soul filled with bitter sweet memories of Istanbul, the Conte stared out of the window, as a peaceful sunset colored the quiet Port of Sorrentina, in shades of orange and pink.

It was obvious from their conversation, that the Ottoman envoy did remember him, and certainly knew his story. The Conte did not feel nervous that Abu bin Malachi would speak of it, or even share his knowledge with the Professore. He hadn't acquired the reputation of being the best Spy in the Ottoman Empire for being a gossip! The Conte, however, wouldn't have called what happened harmless trouble, but more a social scandal, which had ended in tragedy and had seen him sent back to Venice in disgrace to administer the estates at home, and an arranged marriage with Giovanna Mocellini.

He had been honest with Giovanna from the beginning. She, for her part, had been accepting and generous, and had given him six more children. With the passing of time they had grown fond of one another, and he had been genuinely heartbroken when she had died giving birth to their last child, Federico.

The Conte sighed and gazed out of the window at the port bellow. In the distance he could see Devi sitting dejected on the wall next to the entrance of the villa. He had let her linger on purpose, to see if she would manage to fit in, or not. It seemed, as he had suspected, that Devi had not managed to fit into life at Sorrentina. He hoped that she would come to her own conclusions and return to the north of her own volition. Observing her from his window, he was now in a quandary. Should he tell her what he had learnt about Achille's whereabouts, or was it kinder to leave her in ignorance, and let her conclude that Achille had abandoned her?

Devi liked the spot she had found. From here she could watch the port and all its comings and goings, without drawing attention to herself.

It had been several weeks now since Achille had disappeared without a word. She had spoken to the Conte, and as yet he had allowed her to stay, delaying his trip to the north and then Prussia, for some reason she didn't know, but she didn't really care why, for it had bought her some more time in Sorrentina, and the hope that Achille would return before she was forced to return north. It was obvious that the Conte knew more about the situation than he was telling her, and that Professore had proved a much tougher nut to crack for information, then she had originally thought. That nice, quiet Professore had smiled at her sweetly and feigned ignorance, and nothing she could do had worked. It hd been like extracting blood from a stone. Devi signed. The Conte had been right, life in Sorrentina wasn't going to be easy. She didn't know anyone, or the ways of this place. It was small and everyone knew one another and strangers like herself stood out like a sore thumb. Being neither servant or Aristocrat, Devi was finding it difficult to fit in.

The Fishermen were friendly enough, but although they knew Achille they could tell her nothing she didn't already know.

Sior Achille?...Si...Si...e andato via sulla piccola barca....

Achille had told her he ran the Taverna in Sorrentina, so she had gone there and had tried asking the surly Barmaid, Lizabetta, but at the mere mention of Achille's name, this one had gone from surly to aggressive, and had chased Devi out of the taverna, calling her a Dirty, Gypsy Slut! Which was most insulting, as she was neither dirty or a slut. As she wandered back through the port, Devi wondered who this Lizabetta was, and made a mental note that she would have to be replaced, when she took over as Achille's wife. A Barmaid like that was bad for business. Devi hoped that Lizabetta didn't turn out to be Achille's sister, or God forbid, his mother.

And so, Devi sat on the wall, staring aimlessly at the travelers disembarking from the most recent ship to arrive from the mainland.