“Aunt Livia!” he exclaimed.

“Ooo-er,” shouted one of the clerks. “That’s not like any aunt of mine.”

Johnnie flushed to the roots of his fair hair but Livia laughed at the impertinence. For one horrified moment Johnnie thought she might shout back.

“Ignore them!” he said quickly. “Is Grandma ill? My mother?”

He could think of no reason that his exotic kinswoman should penetrate Bishopsgate, except to take him home for an emergency. “Have you heard from Sarah?” he demanded, suddenly fearful for his twin, so far away at sea.

“No.” She laughed happily. “Would I have come across London to a street like this, filled with these dreadful young men, to carry a message from your sister? No, everything is well at home. Nothing has happened. Indeed, I believe that nothing ever happens at home but the turning of the smallest of pennies. I left them playing with Matteo. I came for you. I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

Confidently she took his arm and led him down the dark and dirty street, Carlotta trailing unhappily behind them. “Where are we going?”

“Just a little way, for I have some good news for you. But first, I must tell you the price of it.”

He felt an immediate sense of caution, as if—however charming she was—any price she might set on anything would be impossibly high. “I have no money,” he told her bluntly. “In my pocket I have enough for my dinner, but all my wages I give to Ma, to run the house and warehouse. And she’s been very short recently, as I think you know.”

“She’s been paid,” she said sweetly. “She has no complaint. And anyway, I don’t want your pennies, darling boy, I want your friendship.”

“Well, of course, you have that,” he said cautiously.

“Let me explain,” she said. “You know I have been engaged in an enterprise selling my antiquities at the house of our old family friend Sir James Avery?”

He nodded, saying nothing, keeping his gaze on her perfect profile as she watched her feet, stepping carefully, down the dirty street.

“Sir James is in my debt,” she told him. “I have opened up his house and made it a center for those with an interest in ancient and beautiful things. He has been visited by some of the greatest men at court. I have restored his name to importance.” They turned into Leadenhall Street. “You say nothing?”

He felt that she was too flirtatious and clever for him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Ah, you are wise to stay silent then. Allora—he owes me a favor and I have allowed him to settle his debt to me in the form of an introduction.”

“You have?”

“I have. I could have asked for anything, for myself, for Matteo, but I did not. Instead, I have this!” With a flourish she produced the letter from Sir James from under her cloak and pressed it into his hand. “An introduction for you, my dearest nephew.”

“I don’t want to be intro…” he began; but fell silent as she turned him around to face the gloriously ornate facade of the East India Company headquarters. The lower level, facing the street, was conventional enough, a double-height door set to the right of the building, but then on the next floor there were heavy full-height windows letting on to an ornate balcony of wooden carved balustrades, with a great portrait of one of the Company’s famous ships in the center. A ship portrait was repeated on the next floor between high leaded windows, and the whole top-floor facade was a massive painting of a ship in full sail. Above that great boast, on the roof of the house, facing east, was a giant statue of a sailor, stick in one hand, hand on hip, as if to dominate the world.

“The East India Company,” Johnnie whispered. “You’ve never got me an introduction into the East India Company?”

She put the letter into his hand. “The East India Company,” she confirmed. “One of the writers will see you. That’s his name on the letter. I have made you an appointment, it is now. Go in and tell him that Sir James Avery is your patron and supports your application for a place.”

She gave him a little push. “Go on, I have done all this for you.”

He took one step towards the overwhelming building. “And the price?” he remembered to ask.

She laughed. “A nothing. It is that you be a friend to me, Johnnie. There is no need to go through the books and worry your mother about my debts, there is no need to ask your mother if I should not pay Excise duty. I am sharing in the fortunes of your family—taking; but also giving—see what I am doing for you?”

He blushed red as he remembered that his grandmother thought her an imposter, and that Sarah was hoping to unmask her. “I don’t speak against you…”

“There is nothing to say against me,” she told him. “My reputation, as an honorable widow, has to be unblemished, perfect,” she told him.

“I’m sure it is,” he stumbled.

“And I have a plan which will be of great benefit to the whole family.” She paused for a moment. “I am going to buy a warehouse, a very big warehouse in a good part of town. Your mother and grandmother will live above it, that will be their new home. And your mother and perhaps Sarah will sell the goods, beautiful antiquities which I will order from my store in Venice.”

He was stunned. “We know nothing about that business,” he said. “We’re wharfingers, we ship small loads and—”

“I know what you do. This is completely different. You would work for me.”

“I thought you were buying Grandma a house in the country?”

“A better house in clean air,” she corrected him. “This will be better. Your mother can work downstairs and be close to her mother all day.”

His head was whirling. “Are there enough customers for such things?”

“Yes,” she said. “I could have sold my Caesar heads over and over. I am giving your family a great opportunity, Johnnie. I rely on you to advise them to take it.”

“What d’you want me to do?” he asked her simply. “Would I still work here?” He glanced longingly at the building.

“Of course, and Sarah could stay at the millinery shop if she wants. This is to give your mother an easier, more profitable business, and your grandmother a more comfortable home. All I want from you is to advise when your mother speaks of it to you. Tell her that it is a good idea.”

“But…”

“Don’t you think it’s a good idea? That your mother has a more profitable business and your grandmother a better home? That they trade in rare and valuable goods rather than cheap dirty stuff?”

“Yes, of course.”

She extended her hand in the black lace mitten. “Then we have an agreement.”

He had to take her hand and at once she drew him near, so close that he could smell the scent of roses from her bonnet, from her dark ringlets of hair. “We are partners,” she said. “I will get you the one post that you want in all of London and you will help me to sell the wharf and buy the new house. You will give me your promise.”

He blushed furiously, conscious of being an ungrateful fool, a young man, perhaps a stupid young man. “Of course, I can promise my support,” he said, horribly embarrassed. “You’re my aunt—though you don’t look like one. And anything I can do to assist you… of course.”