‘Oh,’ said Orelia, as the banker handed her two sequins. She offered one to Signora D’Este. The woman smiled thinly. ‘Keep it. That was the deal.’
‘Thank you,’ said Orelia, feeling that somehow she had lost.
‘I’ve heard you’ve been seen with Mr. Donato at the opera. I thought I warned you not to get in my way.’ Her voice made the nape of Orelia’s neck feel cold.
‘You have nothing to be concerned about,’ said Orelia.
‘Good, that’s what I wanted to hear but remember, I am watching.’ Signora D’Este placed her mask back on, turned and walked away.
Orelia headed in the opposite direction, putting as much distance between her and this woman as she could. As she passed an open doorway, she felt a hand grab her upper arm and pull her into the room. The door closed behind her and Orelia found herself in a dark, empty room lit only by the light coming in through the window. Her heart quickened when she noticed the man in a sinister mask with a long slender nose standing in front of her.
‘Let me out!’ cried Orelia, trying to find the door handle.
‘Sshhh,’ the man whispered.
Orelia froze. She recognized that voice. It was a voice she had been trying very hard to forget since that night in the garden. ‘How did you find me?’ whispered Orelia.
Bastian untied the ribbons of his mask and tossed it behind him. It landed with a soft thump on a divan. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. ‘I knew you were here the moment you stepped into the entrance hall.’
‘You’re spying on me?’ Orelia said.
‘Not as such. The managers of this establishment have ways of knowing who is coming and going. And it is in their interests to feed me information about certain individuals if I ask them.’
‘That’s not very honorable,’ said Orelia, glaring at Bastian.
‘I tell you what’s not honorable. Inviting a man to a caffé and sending someone else in your place.’ Bastian stepped forward and whispered into her ear. ‘I know that wasn’t you this morning.’
His breath was warm and soft. Orelia stepped back from him until her back was against the door. ‘What you don’t know is that you were given a love potion.’ Immediately, Orelia drew in a breath. They were not the words Angelique had made her practice. Her closest friend would be furious at her if she found out Orelia had given away her plot. Orelia wasn’t even sure why she’d said it. Maybe she wanted it to all be out in the open or maybe she simply wanted to wipe the smug smile from Bastian’s face.
Bastian laughed. ‘I’ve been given more love potions than breakfasts in my life.’
Orelia moved her mouth, but no words came out and then she started laughing, too. ‘How did you know it wasn’t me?’
‘Everything; the way she moved, the way she talked. But most of all her eyes. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like yours.’
Orelia pressed a black-gloved hand to her cheek to hide the blush she could feel growing.
‘So this love-potion wielding friend of yours, Angelique, I presume, is the reason you think we can’t be together?’
‘Yes, among other reasons.’
‘What other reasons?’
Tipping her head back, Orelia looked up at the frescoed ceiling depicting a scene of war. ‘I don’t want to attract attention upon myself and all you do is attract attention.’
Bastian stepped forward and pressed his palms against the wall on either side of her shoulders. ‘You know what? I think that’s an excuse. I think you’re afraid of your feelings for me.’
‘I certainly am not. You just cannot accept that I have no feelings for you.’ Her voice wavered, but she squared her shoulders and tried to hold his gaze.
‘Prove it. Kiss me,’ said Bastian.
‘You’re crazy.’ Orelia tried to wriggle out from between his arms, but there was no escape, or maybe she just didn’t want to try hard enough.
‘If afterwards you have no feelings for me, I’ll promise never to bother you again.’
Orelia stopped wriggling and stood perfectly still. ‘You already made a promise like that, which you have broken.’
Bastian tilted his head and gave her a soft look. ‘You pretended to meet with me when you said you didn’t want to see me again, so I think we are even. I give you my word this time.’
Biting her lip, Orelia looked into his sea blue eyes. This might be the only way to make him forget her. And he had to forget her. There was no way Bastian and Orelia could be together while Angelique was in love with him. Orelia lifted her chin.
Slowly, holding her gaze, Bastian leaned forward, pausing when their lips were a whisper apart. Then he kissed her. His lips moved against hers like gentle waves, salty and warm. Orelia moved her hands to the back of his neck and kissed him back, completely losing her sense of time and place. Bastian’s hands travelled down her back, sending shivers down her body. It was good, almost too good. She pulled her mouth away. ‘This is not right,’ she said, breathing heavily.
Bastian cupped her face in his hands and that was all he needed to do. Orelia fell against him and brought her mouth to his. With each passing minute, the kiss became deeper and more feverish. She moaned when his lips moved to her neck and his hand grazed the top of her breast. His hands and lips continued to explore parts of her she didn’t even know were sensitive. Her back was pressed up against the door, a hard, pleasant sensation. She never wanted her moment with Bastian to end and yet she knew it must.
Her lips continued to move against Bastian’s, finding it impossible to stop. She felt Bastian pulling her away from the door. Over his shoulder, she saw a divan shrouded in moonlight. She imagined Bastian’s weight on top of her and a hot wave rushed over her.
And then she remembered Angelique.
Behind her back, her hand found the door handle. Swiftly, she pulled her mouth away from Bastian’s, opened the door and slipped through it with a quick, ‘Goodnight.’
As she walked back into the main room, flushed and still breathless, Orelia paused in front of a mirror and tried to arrange herself as much as she could so she did not look like she had just experienced a world altering kiss. Orelia knew she’d become good at pretending since arriving in Venice but she wasn’t sure if she’d become that good.
It was after midnight when Anna stepped onto the street dressed like one of the young ladies that she served. That was because she was wearing one of Angelique’s dresses. It fitted Anna, mostly.
It was a clear night and the stars were reflected in the inky black water of the canals like polished ducats. Anna wrapped her arms around herself and scurried down the street, passing buildings of imposing size and grandeur. The triple-flounced lace sleeves of the gown prickled against her skin, perhaps a sign that, even though Angelique had not worn it since the last Carnival season, and even though it would be washed and put back among Angelique’s things, it was utterly wrong for Anna to be wearing this gown. Worse still, in the silk-lined pocket was a coin purse containing the ducats Signor Boccassio had given her, the ducats she should never have accepted.
Anna was thankful for the white bauta mask she wore on her face. It felt stiff and cold against her weary cheeks, but with it she would not be recognized by anyone. It was also her only way into the Gambling house, for only those fortunate enough to be born someone or those hiding behind masks were allowed entry. But the true reason Anna was thankful for the mask was that it meant she did not have to look at her own face. One did not have to take too many steps in Venice before they were faced with their own reflection either in the water of a canal or a pane of glass.
Tiredness began to overwhelm her, but she kept walking. She imagined what life would be like with her own personal gondolier, a life filled with gowns made of the finest materials that weren’t stolen or handed down after they were no longer fashionable.
Finally, Anna turned down Calle Vallares
so and stopped in front of the Dandolo’s palace, which housed the Gambling house. None of the people entering and exiting the building paid the slightest attention to Anna, confirming her long-held belief that she was invisible to the rest of the world. But Anna paid attention to them, fearing she would run into Signor Contarini’s daughters and their great aunt, who had also come here tonight. There were over seventy or so gambling houses in the city, but Anna had chosen this one because it was owned by the government, which made her feel less like she was committing another crime.
Stepping up to the brightly lit entrance, Anna took out her coin purse. It would only take one ducat if luck was on her side, but Anna was not leaving things to luck. Even if she were to increase her money ten times that would not change her life, but it would change her sister’s and that was enough for Anna. With this thought, she entered the palace.
In the main room, Anna stopped and looked around at the masked men and women. So these were the sorts of people who spent the better part of their lives awake in the early hours of the morning, completely carefree. Anna took a tentative step forward. An attractive man in a colorful dress-coat walked in front of her and winked as he passed. Anna felt her cheeks redden and was, once again, thankful for the mask hiding her face. No one had ever flirted with her before. She wondered what it would be like to wink back or press a half-open fan to her lips, a not-so-subtle invitation, as Angelique would do.
Instead, she hurried in the opposite direction to the nearest card table to avoid any more sinful thoughts. The banker nodded at her and proceeded to lay down the two cards for that round. Anna decided to watch the first few rounds to reacquaint herself with the game. The gondoliers often liked to play faro in the unused storage rooms on the ground floor. Anna had joined in when she could. She hadn’t played since Emilia had arrived. Also, this version of faro was very different from the version she had played with the servants. It was much quicker, too. Cards were laid down and money exchanged at dizzying speeds.
‘Are you going to place a bet or not?’ huffed the banker, looking at Anna as if he could see through the mask. Anna nodded like a child and withdrew her coin purse, afraid she would be sent away. She fixed her eyes on the table, placed a coin on the queen and held her breath.
It was a few hours later, in the diminishing light of the chandeliers, Anna finally lifted her eyes from the table. She had nothing left, not a single coin. There had been a few wins, but mostly losses. With every loss, Anna had made another bet, sure that her luck would turn around. Only, it hadn’t.
The silk hood secured around her face suddenly felt like it was choking her. She pulled it off along with her mask, without caring who saw her. She had to get out of there. The few remaining people lingering around the gambling tables did not so much as glance at the girl dashing across the room, losing her fight to hold back tears.
In a dark corner near the entrance of the room, Anna passed a man wrapped around a woman whose gown was pulled up above her knees. Anna had heard stories of women, even noblewomen, who would give themselves to a man only a few meters away from the gambling tables, so they could return with money to continue gambling.
Tears now streaming down her face, Anna kept running; she could never commit such an act, no matter how desperate she was. She flew down the stairs and through the land entrance. She didn’t see the woman standing on the street and collided with her.
Anna stumbled back as a tall, striking woman spun around and glared at her.
‘You reckless girl!’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Anna, reaching out her arm. ‘I did not see you there.’
The woman stepped forward into the light spilling through the entranceway and grabbed Anna’s forearm. ‘Clearly,’ she hissed between lips that blazed red. ‘What is your name?’
There were many ways Anna could answer that question. Anna Pisani, the penniless servant. Anna Pisani, the gown thief. Anna Pisani, the sister with the dark heart. The answer that she eventually gave was one that hadn’t occurred to her until she opened her mouth. ‘Giselle da Quaterno, the opera singer.’
The woman threw her head back and laughed. ‘Do you think I can be so easily fooled? I can see by the poor fit of that gown and the appearance of your hands that you are not who you say you are. Lie to me again and you will regret it.’ The woman’s fingernails dug into the flesh of Anna’s arm. How had her night gone so horribly wrong?
‘My name is Anna Pisani. I’m a servant,’ she said in a voice without any fight left in it.
‘Now that’s a name that seems more . . . fitting. And who do you work for?’
‘The senator, Signor Contarini.’
The woman suddenly let go of Anna’s arm and she smiled. ‘Clearly you are very tired and in a hurry. Have you had an unpleasant night?’
Anna nodded.
‘Well all is forgiven,’ said the woman, her voice overly tender. ‘Allow me to take you home.’ She motioned towards the end of the street where a gondola was bobbing alongside the water steps.
Every instinct told Anna not to get into the gondola with that fearsome woman, but before she realized it, she was taking the gondolier’s elbow. She lowered herself into the black-curtained felze and a few seconds later, the woman sat down opposite her, closing the curtains.
‘The Contarini residence, Grand Canal,’ the woman called over her shoulder. Immediately, the gondola began to move.
Anna relaxed a fraction, thankful to be getting ferried home, for she didn’t think her tired legs and heavy heart would have carried her.
‘Do you know who I am?’ asked the woman.
Anna shook her head.
‘You should. My name is Lodovica D’Este. I also was born into a family of no significance. But growing up, I knew I was destined for a far superior life. The first opportunity a young woman gets to better her position is through marriage. Though I aspired to marry a nobleman my background made it impossible, so I settled for a gentleman who had inherited a fair sum of wealth from his merchant father.
‘With my husband’s money, I made more money. We had everything except membership in the noble class, but I planned to buy our family name into the Golden Book. Unfortunately, before that plan could be realized, my husband started to gamble. Till the point that he gambled away our entire fortune; all that remained was the house we lived in. It took me five years, but I have risen again from nothing thanks to my own determination and sacrifice. I am respected, feared even and soon, I will have the means to buy my family’s name into the Golden Book as I planned. Do you know why I am telling you this?’
‘No,’ whispered Anna.
‘Because you and I are alike. When I was your age, I also told people who I wanted to be, not who I really was. You are destined for a life of greatness, too. I can see it when I look at you. You can rise from your lowly position to become the opera singer you pretend to be. The question is, can you really sing?’
Anna nodded. ‘I believe so.’
‘Let’s hear.’
Anna was still not convinced she could trust this woman, but no one had ever asked her to sing before. Lifting her chin, Anna closed her eyes, trying to imagine that she was looking out of her bedroom window, singing for her sister. Taking a measured breath, Anna opened her mouth and let out a clear, sweet sound. It danced through the night air. She could feel warmth beginning to spread throughout her body and her voice rose higher, giving wings to the words of her song. In those moments, she forgot where she was and all the money she had lost.
When Anna stopped singing and opened her eyes, Signora D’Este clapped slowly three times. ‘You are very good. With a voice like that you have a bright future ahead of you.’
Anna leaned forward. ‘Really? You think so?’
‘I do. It would normally be impossible for a servant and a woman to become an opera singer but with your talent and spirit, I believe you do have a chance. Every
one in Venice will be talking about you.’
‘But how do I...?’
Signora D’Este laid a hand over Anna’s. ‘It won’t be easy. You have your job. You must be busy serving so many ladies? Is there not a new girl in the household?’
‘Yes, her name is Orelia.’
‘I’ve heard she is from Rome. Is that right?’
‘I think so. I don’t know much about her.’
‘But you could know more about her.’
‘I’m not sure how that has – ’
‘I want to help you realize your dream,’ interrupted Signora D’Este. ‘I am friends with many influential people, including the owners of several opera houses. I can put in a recommendation for you and arrange a meeting. In return, I would like you to find out more about Orelia for me. She is hiding something and I want to know what it is.’
‘You want me to spy for you?’ asked Anna withdrawing her hand.
Signora D’Este shrugged. ‘Call it what you like.’
Anna’s eyes moved around the felze, as if she could find an exit but it only confirmed what she knew when she boarded the gondola: she was trapped. ‘I’m very sorry, but I can’t do what you are asking me.’
To Anna’s surprise, Signora D’Este just sighed. ‘I understand. I had mistaken you. I thought you wanted to be an opera singer.’
‘I do. I really do, but I can’t betray Orelia. I’ll do anything else.’ Anna pleaded with her eyes.
Signora D’Este leaned in close. ‘You know, Orelia will never know,’ she whispered. ‘No one will. It will be our secret.’
‘I don’t want her to get hurt.’
‘She won’t get hurt, I promise. So is it a deal?’
The question hung in the air like a knife poised to drop. Anna felt horrible for even considering the woman’s offer but then Signora D’Este had promised Orelia wouldn’t get hurt. And she was right; Anna’s own situation was desperate. This could be the only way to get the money to help her sister.
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