Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (online e reader .TXT) 📕

regular cadence, and breathed deeply, savouring the aroma of wild rosemary in the air. After a little while, the track joined the road that passed the main entrance to the villa and carried on upwards. She stayed on the narrow road and didn’t see a single vehicle. It took another ten minutes or so to reach the top of the hill and she allowed herself a short breather at the point where the road curved sharply to the right and began to drop steeply away into the next valley, while a gravel track led off to the left. This track, she told herself, headed roughly in the direction of the villa, and it was also pointing directly at the old tower, which she now realised wasn’t really at the top of a hill, but on a spur sticking out from the hillside. Either way, it occupied an exceptional defensive position and no doubt this had been the reason its original builders had chosen the spot.

The view from up here was spectacular. Although Villa delle Vespe, directly below her, was concealed by the curve of the hillside and the dense woods that covered this part of the slope, the view into the distance was superb. To the east, rank upon rank of green hills finally melded into a darker mass that she felt pretty sure had to be the Apennines. On the other three sides it was all remarkably empty and altogether very rural: trees, fields, hills and woods were interspersed with a scattering of red-brick farmhouses and occasional small villages. For somebody who had spent most of her life in big cities, this landscape was completely different, alluring and maybe just a tiny bit intimidating. There was no noise apart from the omnipresent bees and invisible little birds twittering from the bushes – no rumble of traffic, no aircraft overhead, no human voices. She could have been the last person on Earth, and for a second or two she felt really alone, but then, just to prove her wrong, she heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle approaching.

A cloud of dust rising up through the trees along the line of the track to her left indicated where the car was coming from and she stepped off the road onto the dry grass verge to let it pass. When it came into view, she saw at once that it was a battered old Land Rover – no doubt a sensible vehicle in this sort of terrain once the rains came. There was no roof on the vehicle and, as it drew closer, she saw a movement inside: a black shadow reared up on the front passenger seat, put his big paws on the dashboard and his head popped up above the screen. There could be no doubt who this was, and she felt her heart give an involuntary – and most unwelcome – leap when her eyes landed on the driver. As he drew up alongside her, she saw recognition on his face.

‘Good morning – out for a run before the rain comes?’

It took her a moment to realise that he had addressed her in English – fluent UK English, without any particular regional inflection. While she was still trying to get her head around this, Guinness the dog started barking happily and bouncing up and down on the passenger seat, his tail wagging furiously. She leant over the side of the vehicle and made a fuss of him. As she did so, she became acutely conscious that she was streaming with sweat and not exactly at her most appealing. Still, she told herself, the dog didn’t mind and what this man thought was unimportant. Guinness by now was balancing his forepaws on the top of the door and doing his best to reach out and kiss her, fortunately his master showed no such signs of open affection. He did, however, allow himself a smile at the antics of the dog. Alice smiled back.

‘Good morning, Guinness, and good morning to you.’ Since she didn’t know his name, she made an attempt to rectify that. ‘By the way, my name’s Alice.’ She wondered if he had maybe already recognised her face, but she decided to tell him anyway. From his reaction, her name meant nothing to him.

‘Hi, Alice, I’m Matt – short for Matthew.’

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Matt, short for Matthew. So, what’s a Brit doing in the wilds of Tuscany?’

‘It’s a long story. I’ll bore you with it some other time.’

She noted his reluctance to talk about himself, so she didn’t press him. ‘Is Guinness your dog? I wasn’t sure if he belonged to you or the other gentleman.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, he’s my dog and my best buddy. And what about you? Where are you going on your run?’

‘I’ve just come up the road and I was wondering if there’s any way this track you’ve just come along might lead me back towards the villa.’

She saw him nod. ‘The gates to your place all have combination locks. Do you have the code? I imagine they’ll all be the same. Well, there’s a path leading off left, just as you reach the drive leading up to my house. Go down there for a hundred yards or so and you’ll come to the gate.’

‘Thank you.’ She hesitated, not really knowing why she still hadn’t moved – except for the dog, of course. By this time Guinness was scrabbling, trying to get his hind legs on the top of the door as well as his front paws and it looked as though he was preparing to launch himself bodily into her arms, so she leant forward and gently returned him to a safer position on the front seat. She glanced across at his master. ‘I’d hate to see Guinness fall out onto the road.’

‘It hasn’t happened yet, but I’ve never seen him up on top of the door like that. He must really have taken a liking to you.’

‘Well, I love him, too