From Venice With Love

by Alison Roberts

  It had more of an effect than he had anticipated. Lady Geraldine sniffed delicately and picked up her linen serviette to dab at the corner of her eye.

  ‘Bella,’ she said, her Italian accent flawless. ‘Carlotta è una ragazza fortunate.’

  Beneath his fingers, Charlotte’s hand stiffened with tension. ‘What?’

  ‘She said you are a lucky girl,’ Nico murmured. ‘That the story of how we met is beautiful.’

  ‘At last…’ Lady Geraldine smiled mistily at her granddaughter. ‘Oh, darling. I can’t begin to tell you how happy this makes me. This…this is the best night of my life.’

  Charlotte’s lips trembled but she managed to smile. In the instant before she turned to look at her grandmother Nico caught the flash of emotion in her eyes that told him how huge this gift of happiness was.

  And she couldn’t have given her grandmother this if it hadn’t been for him. It made him proud.

  It made him want to give more.

  The interruption of the first course of their dinner arriving was a welcome distraction that gave Charlotte time to try and collect herself. Not that she had the slightest appetite and she couldn’t help her gaze straying sideways to look at Nico at noticeably frequent intervals as she wondered how he could be so incredibly good at this pretence, but that was just the sort of behaviour a woman who’d just fallen head over heels in love would display, wasn’t it?

  No wonder Gran believed it all. Charlotte had been sucked in herself. She’d totally forgotten the fear of the conversation touching on that no-go period in her life. And the way she’d felt when he’d picked up her hand and kissed it…No. What had been utterly shocking had been the way she’d felt when he’d leaned closer and looked as though he was about to kiss her on the lips.

  The hum of conversation around them and the elegant strains of the Christmas carols being played by a quartet in the restaurant foyer had faded into nothing more than background static. The flickering light of the candles seemed to mirror the tiny flames licking her skin. Heating her blood and pooling somewhere deep in her belly.

  A moment’s madness, fuelled by what she could swear was an equal level of attraction in Nico’s eyes. But they were dark eyes and the light was low. She couldn’t possibly have seen his pupils expand and she must have imagined the electric charge that came through her fingers where his skin was still in contact.

  The shock of hearing her grandmother respond to Nico in Italian had been enough to break the extraordinary spell being cast, which was just as well. Nico was enjoying himself quite enough. How appalling would it be if he knew he was having a genuine effect on her?

  Lady Geraldine wasn’t eating much either, and that was enough to send Charlotte’s thoughts in a darker direction. Her grandmother might be in her eighties but she had always been a woman of amazing energy who lived life to the full. Nobody would deny her the maximum extent of whatever modern medicine could do to prolong that colourful life, but you had to balance additional time earned by what the quality of that life would be. Major surgery and chemotherapy would be a miserable time and it was possible that the end would not justify the means.

  Something like despair gathered in a cloud over Charlotte as she toyed with her entrée. Thank goodness Nico and her grandmother were so engaged in conversation. Nobody would thank her for destroying the joyous atmosphere that had been created at this particular table.

  ‘So your mother is still living in Ireland?’

  ‘Yes. With husband number four.’

  ‘Good gracious! What was wrong with the first three?’

  ‘My mother has trouble resisting offers that seem to give her a better opportunity to experience the best that life can give. She is a free spirit, Lady Geraldine, who is not bothered by what others think. A bit like yourself, I’m guessing?’

  Gran actually laughed with delight. If she’d had a fan in her hand, Charlotte thought, she might have smacked Nico’s hand with it. Instead, the old lady gave him an almost shy smile.

  ‘You can call me Jendi, dear,’ she told him. ‘As my friends do.’

  ‘I’m honoured…Jendi.’

  ‘And your father? Is he still living, too?’

  ‘No.’ Charlotte saw the way Nico laid down his fork as though he had caught the lack of appetite around him. ‘He died some years ago now.’

  ‘Oh…’ The sound was one of sympathy. ‘Too young. Was it an accident?’

  ‘A broken heart.’ Nico’s voice was expressionless. He was stating a fact.

  Charlotte couldn’t help her eyebrows rising at such a non-medical notion from a man with his training. She didn’t say anything but maybe her breath had escaped with a disparaging sound because Nico flicked a glance in her direction. His words, however, were directed at Lady Geraldine. His new friend.

  ‘They called it a heart attack, of course,’ he said. ‘But his heart broke when my mother left him and on every visit I made back here, I could see his slow decline.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Lady Geraldine declared. She was frowning now. ‘But at least it hasn’t put you off marriage, Nico.’

  ‘M-marriage?’

  The word was so shocked that Charlotte knew the game might be up. Had it not occurred to him that it was a natural direction for someone’s thoughts to go in when faced by two people who were ‘meant to be together’ and had made the connection at last?

  ‘Early days, Gran,’ she said in a stage whisper across the table. ‘Don’t frighten the poor man.’

  ‘Frightened? Me?’ To give him credit, Nico recovered fast. He actually winked at Lady Geraldine. ‘We men like to pick our own time, that’s all. The element of surprise, you understand?’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ Lady Geraldine beamed at him. ‘I promise I’ll be surprised.’

  She wouldn’t be the only one. Nico was only supposed to be posing as her new boyfriend, that’s all. Something that would make Gran happy because it offered hope for her not having a lonely future. This was getting out of hand. He was sharing family secrets as though he was already a prospective grandson-in-law.

  How on earth was she going to explain what had happened here tonight if, by some miracle, her grandmother’s treatment was effective and she lived for years after this?

  The interruption of formal speeches in praise of the symposium and its organisers filled in the time between courses and prevented any further bonding between her gran and Nico, but it didn’t lessen the increasing tension Charlotte was experiencing. It only got worse as people began to mingle between the tables and Richard Campbell came to say hello.

  ‘Did you enjoy listening to Charlotte this morning, Lady Geraldine?’

  ‘Oh, I did. So much. Thank you for arranging things, Dr Campbell. I am the happiest woman in the world tonight.’

  ‘So I see.’ It was impossible not to respond to the glow her grandmother was exuding. No one would believe that she could be facing confirmation of a terminal disease within days. And the misty look she was giving the young couple at her table was just as easy to read. Richard’s jaw sagged visibly as he followed her gaze.

  ‘Charlotte? You and…?’

  ‘Nico Moretti,’ Nico said, extending his hand.

  A new challenge, then. Could he pull off this pretence with the people who worked with Charlotte?

  ‘Delighted to meet you, Richard. Although I think we met some years ago. At St Margaret’s?’

  ‘That was where he first met Charlotte,’ Lady Geraldine put in.

  ‘Mmm.’ Richard was giving Charlotte a strange look and Nico’s heart sank. He remembered that impression he’d had when he’d been listening to her speak this morning. That her playing down her femininity might reveal a sexual preference that didn’t include men. Maybe her closest colleagues were aware of something that was kept strictly private. Something she didn’t want her grandmother to know, either.

  Was that what had been hidden beneath that absolute conviction that she would never be fulfilling her grandmother’s deares
t wish of settling down and having babies? Suspicion on Jendi’s part might also explain that charged glance directed at her granddaughter, which he’d inadvertently provoked.

  Charlotte certainly seemed bothered by something. As soon as possible after Richard moved on to another table, she excused herself, muttering about needing a bathroom. He saw her ask a waiter for directions and then head out a door that led to a long balcony. Presumably the bathrooms opened off the balcony to one side of the restaurant.

  Which meant that Nico could also excuse himself and head in that direction. He could catch Charlotte before she came back into the dining room and just check that he wasn’t causing even more trouble for her, although exactly how to broach the subject of her sexuality in a sensitive manner was entirely beyond him at the moment.

  The balcony ran right along the canal side of the restaurant. It was quiet out here with the added darkness that came from the still water of the canal. Nico didn’t need to use the facilities so he paced back and forth, waiting what seemed an interminably long time for Charlotte to reappear. What was she doing in there? Twisting her hair back into some impossibly tight ‘hairdo’? He hoped not.

  A gondola drifted past below with just a single light making the ornate brass ornament on the prow of the boat gleam. A couple sat, wrapped in blankets against the cold and silent as they gazed in wonder at the magic of touring this city at night with only the ripple of the boat to disturb the serenity.

  The tap of high heels on stone disturbed the moment for Nico. He turned and Charlotte’s step faltered.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’

  ‘Waiting for you.’

  The only light now that the gondola had passed came from the fairy lights of the restaurant and a small Christmas tree that was being used to reveal where the door to the bathrooms was. Silver light that made Charlotte’s dress shine and cast a spotlight on the way the fabric clung to her body and revealed noticeable curves. It also caught matching strands in her hair. It would look golden in the sunshine, Nico thought. Chameleon hair. He could imagine her eyes could create that illusion too. Maybe they would take on a blue hue under a summer sky. Or when she was happy?

  Right now they were a stormy, slate grey.

  ‘Why?’

  She sounded nervous and added to that impression by pushing her fingers through her hair. The gesture ruffled the loose waves. It was a supremely feminine movement. Confusing, given what Nico was there intending to find out. The reminder made him shake off his focus on how unexpectedly attractive Charlotte was looking. He cleared his throat.

  ‘I…um…It seems to be going well. Your nonna is happy.’

  ‘Mmm.’ He could see Charlotte swallow. A ripple that ran the length of her elegant neck. ‘Too happy, maybe.’

  ‘Is there such a thing? Especially at a time like this?’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘She is happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so…so contented.’

  ‘There you go, then. It’s been a good thing to do. A reprieve from thinking about less happy things. One that you may be able to use for some time.’

  Charlotte looked away, watching the tail end of the gondola as it turned a corner. ‘But I didn’t think things through. I thought other people would just think you were sharing our table for dinner.’ Her voice rose and the words sped up a little, revealing how unsettled she was. ‘I didn’t expect to start a rumour that will follow me back to St Margaret’s. I have no idea what I’m going to do about that.’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything.’ Nico paused, trying to select his words carefully. ‘Unless it’s going to cause personal distress?’

  She frowned at him. ‘What kind of personal distress?’

  ‘Well…you might have someone in your life that wouldn’t be happy to know about this…this illusion you’re creating.’

  ‘I don’t…’ She was trying to process his meaning. Then she made an impatient sound. ‘I told you I wasn’t in a relationship.’

  ‘Not with Mr Right,’ he murmured.

  There was a moment’s dead silence and then Charlotte’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my God…you think I’m a—’ An incredulous huff broke her words. ‘Are you serious?’ And then she turned away but not before Nico had seen a fierce sparkle in her eyes.

  Oh…Dio…He’d really put his foot in it now, hadn’t he? Was she about to start crying again?

  No matter. He had come prepared. He reached for the neatly pressed handkerchief he’d pushed into his jacket pocket just before he’d left his room. He pulled it out and, as he did so, something glinted in the light and bounced on the stones with an audible ping.

  Charlotte turned her head. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Nothing important.’ Nico knew what it was. It had been weighing his pocket down earlier today. But then he’d forgotten all about it after he’d arrived at the symposium. After he’d been swept along by listening to the story Charlotte had told them. Weirdly, it hadn’t occurred to him to think about it again all day. Or remember to take it out of his pocket.

  His grandmother’s ring. The one his father had given his mother. The one she’d left behind when she’d broken the marriage and Nico’s true family. Maybe it was better if it got left behind at the bottom of a Venetian canal. Drowned and lost. Like his belief in true love and marriage and happy families for ever had been lost so many years ago.

  But no. This ring was the only thing his father had left him as his inheritance. The only link he could touch that went back to his early childhood. It was important. Nico ignored Charlotte and his gaze raked the rough stones as he searched for what he’d dropped. It must have come out of his pocket at speed, propelled by being caught in the folds of the handkerchief. Had it already bounced irretrievably into the waters of the canal?

  Like Charlotte’s laptop?

  No. There it was, precariously balanced right beside a stone balustrade on the very edge of the balcony. He would have to be careful not to nudge it over the edge, he realised as he stooped. Trying to slow his movement, Nico dropped to one knee and reached for the ring.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ Nico could see the ripple of the long, silver dress as Charlotte stepped closer. He sighed and held the object up to show her.

  ‘It’s my grandmother’s ring,’ he said heavily. ‘It’s a long story…’

  He wasn’t going to get a chance to tell her any of it, however. A startling shriek cut through the night air.

  ‘Charlotte! Nico! Oh, my goodness…’ Lady Geraldine had come out through the restaurant doors and was standing there, her hands clasped in front of her as though in prayer. ‘Is this…? Are you…? Oh…how romantic. A proposal. In Venice, of all places…’

  It took a long moment for the full horror to sink in but, yes…here he was, on one knee. Kneeling in front of a beautiful woman with a backdrop of a Venetian canal, holding up what was obviously an engagement ring in his hand.

  He bought a fraction of time by getting to his feet somewhat awkwardly. He caught the panicked look in Charlotte’s eyes. They were going to have to confess now, weren’t they? Ruin the happiest night of this sick old lady’s life.

  No. He could fix this.

  With the ghost of a wink to let Charlotte know he had things in hand, Nico grabbed her hand and shoved the ring onto her finger. It was a tight fit but he gave it an extra push to get it over her knuckle. Was it pain that made Charlotte gasp? Maybe it was the shock of how fast he’d moved or this unexpected twist in the show they were putting on. That didn’t matter either. Maybe people would think she was simply shocked at how quickly he had managed to sweep her off her feet.

  He kept hold of Charlotte’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She dragged her gaze up from the ring and met his eyes and he tried very hard to give her a silent message.

  Trust me. We can get through this without hurting anybody.

  And then he turned and pasted a smile onto his face.

  ‘Jendi…What wonderful timing. We wanted you to be the first
to know.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘I KNEW ALREADY.’ Lady Geraldine was coming towards them with surprising sprightliness given her age and state of health. ‘Nobody can hide the glow of true love…’ Tears were running down her wrinkled cheeks as she got close enough to embrace Charlotte. ‘Oh, my dear…I’m so happy for you.’

  She must feel like she was hugging a tree, Charlotte realised, but she couldn’t make her body soften. Or even raise the arms now hanging by her sides like dead branches. One of them was even weighed down with an enormous rock. No…She had to be dreaming. He couldn’t really have shoved that ring on her finger, could he?

  Still dazed, Charlotte lifted her left arm. It looked like she was returning her grandmother’s effusive hug but, in reality, she was getting her hand to a position where she could see it.

  Yep. There it was. On her third finger. A quite respectably sized solitaire diamond in an antique gold setting. Definitely an engagement ring. What on earth did Nico Moretti think he was playing at, walking around with an engagement ring in his pocket?

  Words floated into through the sludge in her head. His grandmother’s ring. A long story.

  No story could be long enough to rescue her from this escalating nightmare. What was that saying Gran used to deliver with a wagging finger? Something about the complicated web you weave when first you practise to deceive. Charlotte shook her head to clear the mist. This had to end. Now.

  ‘This isn’t what is seems, Gran. I’m not engaged. This is…ridiculous.’

  ‘Oh, I know, darling.’ The grip Lady Geraldine still had on her increased a notch. ‘You weren’t expecting this, were you?’

  ‘Of course I wasn’t.’ A snort of something like laughter escaped her throat. ‘Nico and I have only just met. We’re not even…’ Charlotte raised her gaze as she searched for the right word to explain the total lack of a genuine relationship between them. It brought her line of vision directly over her grandmother’s shoulder. And it locked with Nico’s gaze.