Rhys Bowen - The Tuscan Child

PRAISE FOR RHYS BOWENS IN FARLEIGH FIELD

Well-crafted, thoroughly entertaining.

Publishers Weekly

The skills Bowen brings... inform the plotting in this character-rich tale, which will be welcomed by her fans as well as by readers who enjoy fiction about the British home front.

Booklist

In what could easily become a PBS show of its own, Bowens novel winningly details a World War II spy game.

Library Journal

This novel will keep readers deeply involved until the end.

Portland Book Review

In Farleigh Field delivers the same entertainment mixed with intellectual intrigue and realistic setting for which Bowen has earned awards and loyal fans.

New York Journal of Books

Well-plotted and thoroughly entertaining ... With characters who are so fully fleshed out, you can imagine meeting them on the street.

Historical Novel Society

Through the characters eyes, readers will be drawn into the era and begin to understand the sacrifices and hardships placed on English society.

Crimespree Magazine

A thrill a minute ... highly recommend.

Night Owl Reviews , Top Pick

Riveting.

Military Press

Instantly absorbing, suspenseful, romantic and stylishlike binge-watching a great British drama on Masterpiece Theatre.

Lee Child, New York Times bestselling author

In Farleigh Field is brilliant. The plotting is razor sharp and ingenious, the setting in World War Two Britain is so tangible its eerie. The depth and breadth of character is astonishing. Theyre likeable and repulsive and warm and stand-offish. And oh, so human. And so relatable. This is magnificently written and a must read.

Louise Penny, New York Times bestselling author

Irresistible, charming and heartbreakingly authentic. Rhys Bowens knowing voice transports Downton fans into a riveting family sagaa compelling journey through history, loss, honour and love. When war gets personal, every heart is in peril.

Hank Phillippi Ryan, author of Say No More

ALSO BY RHYS BOWEN

In Farleigh Field

CONSTABLE EVANS MYSTERIES

Evans Above

Evan Help Us

Evanly Choirs

Evan and Elle

Evan Can Wait

Evans to Betsy

Evan Only Knows

Evans Gate

Evan Blessed

Evanly Bodies

MOLLY MURPHY MYSTERIES

Murphys Law

Death of Riley

For the Love of Mike

In Like Flynn

Oh Danny Boy

In Dublins Fair City

Tell Me, Pretty Maiden

In a Gilded Cage

The Last Illusion

Bless the Bride

Hush Now, Dont You Cry

The Family Way

City of Darkness and Light

The Edge of Dreams

Away in a Manger

Time of Fog and Fire

ROYAL SPYNESS MYSTERIES

Her Royal Spyness

A Royal Pain

Royal Flush

Royal Blood

Naughty in Nice

The Twelve Clues of Christmas

Heirs and Graces

Queen of Hearts

Malice at the Palace

Crowned and Dangerous

On Her Majestys Frightfully Secret Service

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright 2018 by Janet Quin-Harkin, writing as Rhys Bowen

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503951822 (hardcover)

ISBN-10: 1503951820 (hardcover)

ISBN-13: 9781503951815 (paperback)

ISBN-10: 1503951812 (paperback)

Cover design by Shasti OLeary Soudant

First edition

This book is dedicated to Piero and Cajsa Baldini, who made my recent Tuscan experience so wonderful and provided insights for this book that only natives of the area could give me. My thanks as always to my brilliant agents, Meg Ruley and Christina Hogrebe; the whole team at Jane Rotrosen; and most especially to Danielle and the whole team at Lake Union, who gave me the chance to write the book I had always dreamed of writing! And finally, as always, to John for his love and support.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

HUGO

December 1944

He was going to die, that was quite obvious. Hugo Langley tried to examine this fact dispassionately. The left wing of the Blenheim bomber was on fire and flames licked at the cabin. Behind him, his navigator, Flight Lieutenant Phipps, lay slumped forward over his instruments. A trickle of blood ran down one side of his face, seeping from under his flight helmet. And Gunner Blackburn was already dead, shot in the rear gun bay by the first wave of Messerschmitts. Hugo wasnt sure whether he himself had been hit. Adrenaline was still pumping so violently through his system that it was hard to tell. He stared down at his blood-spattered trousers, wondering if the blood was his own or came from Phipps.

Bugger, he muttered. He hadnt wanted it to end this way, this soon. He had looked forward to inheriting Langley Hall and the title someday, enjoying the status in the neighbourhood as the squire, Sir Hugo Langley. He thought briefly of his wife and son and found that their images stirred little emotion. Shed be all right without him. She could go on living at the Hall with the old man until she found someone else, which undoubtedly she would do. His son, that strange, quiet little boy, would be too young to remember him. Theyd talk of him as a hero when in reality he was a bloody fool, a sitting duck. This was a bombing mission that should never have been flown. Everyone knew the Blenheims were outdated, slower than the enemy planes. And in flying north from his base near Rome to reach his targets at the rail yards in Milan, he would have to fly over a hundred miles of German-occupied territory.

He tried to assess the situation rationally. The Blenheim couldnt make it back to base even if he could get the old crate to turn around, which wasnt likely with one engine on fire, one wing now useless. But he certainly wasnt going to sit there and go down in flames like a cooked chicken. He glanced out of the windscreen and tried to assess the terrain below but could see nothing. The night was as black as pitch. Cloud cover above. No moon. No stars. No lights down below. But there was also no sign of enemy planes, unless they were still tailing him. He suspected they had decided he was finished and was no longer worth bothering with. From their last reported position, he guessed he must be well over Tuscany by now. Maybe even north of Pisa and into territory still controlled by Germans. Hilly, wild country. There was a chance he could hide out and make it safely to the coast if he could somehow parachute out without the chute going up in flames. It was a chance worth taking, anyway. He fumbled to release the glass hood of the cockpit. The latch came free, but the hood wouldnt budge. For a moment, he felt pure terrorthat hed be trapped in here to be slowly roasted or plummet to earth in a ball of fire, whichever came first. He pushed with all his strength and felt the glass hood finally yield and slide backward. Instantly, the flames licked at him.

Go on, do it, he urged himself. He glanced back at Phipps. Sorry, old chap, he said, but I cant take you with me. His fingers, encased in their thick leather gloves, refused to obey him as he took off his flight helmet with the oxygen supply attached. Immediately, breathing seemed to be hard, but he was not flying that high, and it could have been just panic. He reached for his parachute and attempted to strap it on. It felt as if he was frozen in time, as if life had been reduced to slow motion. Eventually, he felt the harness snap shut. Trying not to rush, he attempted to stand, feeling pain shoot through his left leg. Damn. So he had been shot. Not much chance of running and hiding, then. Still better than being burned alive or crashing with the plane. With any luck he would land in territory no longer controlled by Germans. They had been driven back to what they called the Gothic Line, running across the peninsula just north of Pisa, and the Italians were no longer their allies. Having lived in Italy once, Hugo doubted the ordinary people ever had been incredibly pro-German or pro-war.