Lucy Gordon - Not Just a Convenient Marriage

‘So of course he treasures him. Yes, over here!’ She raised her voice as Toby raced back towards her, hurling himself once more into her arms while Pietro jumped up and down with delight. Damiano smiled fondly at the sight of his child’s happiness.

‘I think Toby is trying to tell you something,’ he observed.

‘Well, he certainly seems to like me,’ she ventured.

‘Enough to invite you to our house this evening for dinner—as a way of apologising for ruining your clothes. Please say you’ll come.’

Pietro looked up into her face, nodding eagerly, and she guessed he was the one Damiano was trying to please.

‘We’d love to come,’ she said, ‘wouldn’t we, Charlie?’

‘Sure, fine.’

‘I’ll just go back to the hotel and change,’ she said.

‘There’s no need,’ Damiano declared.

‘But look at the mess Toby’s left me in,’ she said, comically indicating the paw marks. She put her face close to the dog’s. ‘This is all your fault.’

‘He’s very sorry,’ Pietro said, ‘and he’ll make it up to you at dinner. But you must come with us now.’ He nudged Toby. ‘Tell her she’s got to come now.’

‘Wuff!’

‘Well, if Toby commands, I can’t refuse.’ She laughed.

It was the right answer. Both Pietro and his father beamed. And Sally found herself overtaken by a sense of exhilaration, caused by the sheer unexpectedness of the situation. For someone who spent her life analysing figures and making careful plans there was strange delight in being swept away without warning. When Damiano offered her his arm she took it with pleasure.

From St Mark’s Piazza it was a short journey to the water, where they found a taxi that took them along the Grand Canal.

‘Is your home far?’ she asked.

‘You can see it now.’

She gaped at the sight of the building that they were nearing. Knowing he was rich enough to own a hotel, she’d expected a substantial home, but this was huge and elaborate.

‘There?’ She gasped. ‘But it looks like a palace.’

‘It’s a hotel.’

‘Another one of yours?’

‘Yes, I own it. I live in the building next door.’

His home was smaller than the hotel but still impressive, with a broad stairway leading up from the great hall to the upper floors, where tall, decorative windows let in the light.

Bustling towards them was the woman who’d been in St Mark’s.

‘You’ve met Nora,’ he said. ‘She runs the house and she’ll show you around.’

Sally thought she detected a puzzled look in the housekeeper’s eyes, after the way they had met. But she greeted her cordially and showed her to a room on the ground floor.

‘You can be comfortable here until dinner is served,’ she said. ‘There is a bathroom next door.’

The room was magnificent, with furniture that looked antique and expensive. On one wall was a large picture of a woman luxuriously dressed in eighteenth-century clothing. Gold hung around her neck, and much care had clearly been lavished on her appearance.

Probably to impress the man who had paid for it, Sally thought.

‘Who is that?’ she asked Nora.

‘That was the Duchess Araminta Leonese, three hundred years ago,’ Nora said with a smile. ‘She was a very notable woman. The duke married her in the face of much opposition. His family wanted him to marry an aristocrat, but he said it had to be her and nobody else.’

‘Wasn’t she an actress?’ Charlie said.

‘She was a lady of the stage. And in those days—’

‘In those days that was a big scandal,’ Sally mused.

‘Oh, yes. Very big,’ Nora agreed.

As she turned to leave Charlie murmured to her, ‘I could murder a drink.’

‘Follow me, signore.’

They departed together.

On the wall was a mirror where Sally could study her appearance. Her jacket was a mess. The clothes beneath it were undamaged but they were plain and frugal, and she felt self-conscious at how they would look in these wealthy surroundings. But then she thrust the thought aside. Everything was happening out of her control, and it was pointless to worry about it.

She went to the window, which had a small balcony overlooking a narrow canal where she could see a gondola making its way along the water. Smiling, she turned back into the room.

Then she froze at the sight that met her eyes.

The figure standing there was small but alarming. It had a monstrous head. Horns reared up from the forehead, the eyes were huge and threatening, and the great nose was more like a beak. This terrifying creature had crept into the room unnoticed, and now stood there in a silent, deadly challenge.

At last it spoke.

‘It’s only me,’ said Pietro.

CHAPTER TWO

FOR A MOMENT Sally couldn’t take it in. Her head was spinning too fast to think.

Then the creature removed the alarming mask, revealing Pietro’s face.

‘It really is you.’ She gasped, sitting down suddenly.

She guessed she should have thought of the child when she saw the apparition was so short, but the stunning effect of the face had driven everything else out of her mind.

‘Did I make you jump?’ he asked.

‘Just a little.’

He came close, smiling in a cheeky, friendly way that dispelled the last of her alarm.

‘I just wanted to show you my mask,’ he said.

‘It’s—very effective,’ she said with feeling.

‘Yes, I’m going to wear it for the carnival. Everyone dresses up. I’ve got several masks but I think this is the best.’

He put it back on, turning the monstrous face towards her with an air of triumph.

‘Aaaaaargh!’ she cried, throwing up her hands in a theatrical pretence of terror that made him laugh with delight.

‘What’s going on?’ Damiano demanded from the door. ‘Pietro, what are you up to? You should know better than to scare our guest twice in one day.’

‘Don’t worry about me. I’m strong enough for anything,’ Sally declared.

‘You may need to be if he’s going to get up to his tricks.’

‘But that’s what boys are for, getting up to tricks,’ she protested. ‘If they behave too well it’s no fun.’

‘Then I can promise you plenty of fun,’ Damiano said with an ironic glance at his son. He pointed to the door. ‘Out! And behave yourself, if you know how.’

When Pietro had vanished Sally said, ‘If he does know how I bet he’d never admit it to you.’

‘That’s hitting the nail on the head. I must leave you for a moment to make an urgent phone call, but when you’re ready the dining room is just across the hall. They’re already laying the table.’

He departed, and a few minutes later Charlie entered, rubbing his hands.

‘We’ve really fallen on our feet,’ he said gleefully.

‘Yes, they’re lovely people,’ she agreed.

‘That’s not what I meant. This guy has money. We can have a great time here!’

She regarded him wryly. It was clear Charlie’s acquisitive side was rearing its head.

‘Charlie, I know your idea of a great time,’ she said tersely. ‘Just try to behave yourself.’ A sudden impulse made her add, ‘If you know how.’

‘But I don’t,’ he said with an air of innocence. ‘I never have, according to you. And now we’re in Venice, you don’t expect me to behave myself here, do you?’

‘Whatever I was thinking of to bring you to the great pleasure city I can’t imagine.’

‘You wanted me to have fun, and I’m going to show my appreciation by having the best fun ever.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of. Now push off while I make myself ready for the evening.’

‘But you haven’t brought any extra clothes with you.’

‘No, but I can try a little make-up.’