Chapter Thirty-Eight
GRIETE HOUSE, ANTWERP, 1630
The next morning the sun shone, tepid in an ice blue sky, as Clara and Henry made their way to the stables along gravel paths rimed with frost. Constanza had decided to join them but insisted the children stay behind. She did not think it safe when Henri rode Caesar, afraid his unruliness might unsettle their ponies.
‘Perhaps it might be no bad thing for them to learn how to handle a skittish mount? Not that I agree with your assertion–’
‘I know you not agree, Henri. Why you always tell me this as if I don’t know it?’
Clara smiled at the hint of Constanza’s Indies’ accent as her temper frayed. ‘Well, we’ve chosen a pretty morning. Even the air seems to sparkle.’
Constanza, directing a dark look at Henri, put her arm through Clara’s. ‘A
