The duke’s home, Villa Miraggio, was perched on the highest hill in Rome. Inside the gates of the courtyard, two men appeared and walked off with my trunk as a woman took my arm and began to lead me away. “Mrs. Domitius will get you settled and introduce you to Ofelia.” The duke nodded and left, and it was she who led me through the construction, stepping around tools, materials and men with equal efficiency. We took a staircase without a railing and emerged into a part of the villa that was complete, glass on the windows and rugs on the floor, heavy doors hinged to frames. A few more hallways and arches and there was furniture, art hung on walls.
Ofelia was in one of the upper bedrooms, on a chaise near the window, her legs folded and covered in a blanket, belly high and round under her
