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For how thy memory has lingered on– In spite of cruelest winter’s drear and howl– By inner mirror seen; I’ve dwelled upon, I must confess, my treachery most foul. Did Shakespeare pen a series of passionate sonnets, unknown to modern scholarship, ardently praising a mysterious dark-haired beauty? This tantalizing question is raised in a letter to literature professor Rose Asher. But the letter’s author, Rose’s star pupil, is not telling. A troubled, enigmatic young man, he plunged to his death in front of the college’s entire faculty, an apparent suicide. Determined to find the truth, Rose journeys from New York to Italy, back to the magnificent Tuscan villa where as an undergraduate she first fell in love. La Civetta is a dreamlike place, resplendent with the heady scent of lemon trees a...