by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
‘All the naughty places, you mean?’
‘One or two. But he wouldn’t take me inside in case it annoyed his brother. I told him Damiano would never know. But he says Damiano knows everything. One of those dubious places actually belongs to him.’
‘But Mario still wouldn’t take you in?’
‘That’s right. Said Damiano would hit the roof. Boy is that man a control freak! You’d better watch out when you’re married to him. It’ll be “Come here, go there. Do this, do that.” He’ll keep you short of money so that...’
His voice trailed off as he saw the papers on the table. ‘What’s this?’
‘He’s arranged a bank account for me.’
‘And he’s giving you this much? Oh, brother, you’ve really got him under your spell, haven’t you?’
‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ she said angrily. ‘He’s not in love with me any more than I am with him. It’s for Pietro’s sake, and this is his way of being fair to me.’
‘Fair? Look, Sal, you don’t have to stay here. You could take this money and run. Or is he tying it up so that you can’t?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s left me with complete freedom. He’s an honourable man who deals fairly. He knows I won’t take the money and run.’
‘So you’ll stay here and get some more out of him. I’ll bet there’s plenty still to come.’
‘Get out,’ she snapped, furious at his vulgar twist on the situation. ‘I’m sick of you twisting everything to put Damiano in a bad light, so that you can justify your own selfishness.’
Charlie went to the door but before leaving he looked back at her with an ironic smirk.
‘He’s really got you just where he wants you, hasn’t he?’
Reading terrible retribution in her face, he left quickly before she could throw something at him. His determination to think only the worst of Damiano roused in her a protective instinct that she hadn’t known she had.
Why does he do it? she raged silently. Damiano’s better than that. And he’s worth far, far more.
He brought it on himself, she realised, by hiding his warmer feelings from the world. But not from her. With others his severe mask was kept in place virtually all the time. With her he sometimes let it slip, even if only briefly, suggesting the possibility of other masks, gentler, more attractive; masks that he might wear for a while before taking shelter again. Or that he might cast aside to reveal something deeper, even more intriguing.
That might happen with herself. Or it might never happen.
‘I wonder,’ she whispered. ‘I wonder.’
* * *
Damiano had another surprise for her. For three hours he vanished with Mario and Charlie, returning later to reveal that they had spent the time in the hotel.
‘The Leonese manager is leaving,’ he said as they shared a drink by the canal. ‘I’ve asked Mario to take over for a while. He’s run places for me before and he has a talent for it. We’ve been around today, with Charlie. I think Charlie might well find a place there. He met the staff and I must admit that he charmed them. He could well have a future in hotel management.’
‘You really think—?’
‘Of course, he’ll have to start at the bottom and learn to speak Italian. But I’ll pay him a decent wage and he’ll live with us. And as long as he’s there Mario will take him under his wing. They get on well.’
‘Yes,’ Sally murmured. ‘Mario’s practically his hero. He’s been taking him around Venice—’
‘Going to all the places he shouldn’t.’ Damiano grinned. ‘Mario’s just what he needs. He’s got his “adventurous” side—’
‘Which is the bit Charlie likes,’ Sally mused.
‘Right. But actually he’s got a “guardian angel” side too. So Charlie will be safe with him.’
‘But how does Mario feel about being a guardian angel? Wouldn’t he rather be out living the high life?’
‘The high life has been a bit costly recently, and I’ve solved a few problems for him. Now I’ve asked a favour in return, and he’s agreed, probably hoping that I’ll help him out of the next mess.’
So he was pulling strings again, she thought. But she couldn’t bring herself to blame him. He’d promised to protect Charlie and he’d found a way to do it that was better than anything she could have imagined. She could only respond by keeping her own side of the deal, and doing all she could for Pietro. And that too was what he’d intended to happen.
He’s controlling me, she thought. But how can I complain when he’s giving me so much that I want, and it feels so good?
She read his eyes and knew that he’d understood her thoughts and was waiting for her to reach a conclusion.
And there was only one possible conclusion.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘This will be perfect for Charlie. Mario can talk sense to him in a way that I can’t.’
‘They’re coming,’ Damiano said, hearing voices in the corridor. ‘Don’t let them find us talking about them. They might be suspicious.’
‘You mean they might suspect we were organising their lives?’ she asked with a dramatic assumption of shock. ‘How could they possibly think that?’
‘Some people always believe the worst,’ he said with a grin. ‘Especially of me. Let’s go.’
She had a brief glimpse of Mario and Charlie talking. Charlie seemed absorbed in Mario’s words, and content in a way that was rare with him. The sight eased her heart.
Mario’s revelations about his brother had inspired her to go online again to study him in greater detail than before. She discovered a powerful man with properties not only in Venice, but Rome and Milan, plus business interests that extended into other areas, and powerful friends in the political world, many of whom chose to stay at the Leonese when they were in Venice.
Now the word was out that he intended to take a wife, and everyone who knew him was curious. Nobody had ever expected this, and the news that the Leonese would celebrate Carnival with a costume party brought a flood of people anxious to join.
‘They’re coming?’ Mario enquired, studying the list of attendees. ‘All of them?’
‘So they tell me,’ Damiano conceded.
‘You could have doubled the price of the tickets. I guess everyone wants to see Sally.’
‘But they won’t see me,’ she said. ‘Not really. I’ve got a costume and mask that will leave them wondering what I’m hiding.’
She had chosen a dress of deep gold satin, elegantly decorated with embroidery. Her mask was white with glistening gold decorations about the eyes. It covered her face almost completely, with just a little space left for her mouth. Gold feathers swirled around her head.
‘That’s a brilliant choice,’ Mario told her when they all met up just before the ball. ‘It’ll keep them guessing.’
‘Which means she’s a true Venetian,’ Damiano said, regarding her admiringly.
His own costume was in the eighteenth-century style, an elegant suit of black velvet, with a long coat and knee breeches. His mask was flesh-coloured and covered only the top half of his face, so that at first it wasn’t clear that he was wearing a mask at all.
If you just looked quickly, Sally thought, you might think you were seeing his real face. You’d have to get closer to realise that it’s partly hidden. Just like Damiano himself. I still don’t know very much about him; what’s real and what’s concealed. Will he ever show me his true face?
But then, will I ever show him mine? Will I ever want to?
Mario began parading before them in a costume of jerkin and trousers, patterned with squares of red, green, blue and yellow.
‘I’m Arlecchino,’ he declared, bowing elaborately to Sally. ‘Part servant, part clown.’
‘Part idiot,’ Damiano declared, grinning. ‘Yo
u want to watch out for him, Sally. Arlecchino was a character in a lot of plays over the years, always getting up to mischief, then vanishing. No prizes for guessing why my brother likes to be him.’
‘Not just your brother.’ Sally chuckled. ‘Mine too. Charlie bought a costume very like that. Mario told him it was the best way to be wicked and get away with it.’
‘I deny that,’ Mario said at once. ‘You imagined it.’ His manner became theatrical. ‘Damiano, this lady is delusional. Never believe a word she says.’
‘See what I mean?’ Damiano said. ‘Wicked.’
‘I do my best,’ Mario agreed, glad to see that Sally was enjoying the joke. ‘How about this?’ He put on his mask, which was black leather, leaving only his mouth free. A sharp horn rose from the crown.
‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing at it.
‘It’s a horn of the devil,’ Mario said cheerfully. ‘Only one, because I’m only half a devil.’
‘Half’s probably enough,’ she agreed.
‘But a second horn could be useful,’ Charlie observed. ‘I think I’ll put a second one on my mask.’
‘You’re quite enough of a devil without help,’ she informed him with sisterly candour.
Turning back to Mario, she indicated his uncovered mouth.
‘Wouldn’t you be safer from discovery if your mouth was hidden too?’
For answer he blew her a kiss. ‘But then my pleasures would be restricted,’ he said significantly.
‘Ah, yes, I see,’ she said. ‘You couldn’t put up with that.’
Damiano was glancing out of the window to where he could see guests arriving.
‘Just about everyone is here,’ he said. ‘Time we joined them.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
TOGETHER THEY MADE their way through the connecting door into the hotel, and from there into the ballroom, where they were met by cheers.
Knowing what was expected of him, Damiano played his part to perfection, leading Sally onto the floor, then drawing her into his arms for a waltz. The music filled the air, seeming to flow through her, making her part of itself. She no longer had a will of her own. Life meant dancing through a distant universe with this mysterious man who smiled at her from behind his mask.
‘Why are you looking so tense and nervous?’ he murmured. ‘People will think I’m forcing you to marry me.’
‘You couldn’t do that, not in this day and age.’
‘But I have a reputation as a manipulating bully. You’ve accused me of it yourself.’
‘Manipulator yes, bully no. You’re far too clever for clumsy bullying.’
That made him laugh. She joined in, and everyone dancing near them nodded in satisfaction to see a couple so truly happy together.
He was a fine dancer, holding her firmly but gently, and she found herself moving with a skill that matched his. It was disappointing when courtesy demanded that they each attend to other people. In the arms of another partner she found herself thinking only of him, how strong and warm his body felt against hers.
After a while she saw Arlecchino bouncing across the floor to her.
‘Shall we dance?’ he asked, with an elaborate bow.
‘Do I dare dance with the devil?’ she teased.
‘Tonight I am merely your servant.’
‘I think I prefer a clown.’
His answer was an elaborate leap into the air, finishing with another bow. ‘Then a clown you shall have.’
Laughing, she let him lead her onto the floor.
Like his brother, Mario was a fine dancer, lithe and energetic, holding her close in the waltz.
‘I don’t think you should hold me so tight,’ she gasped after a while.
‘I’m merely showing my respects to my sister-in-law,’ he said theatrically. ‘Do you accuse me of impropriety?’
‘No, of course not.’ But as she spoke she saw something in his eyes that gave her pause. There was an intensity of admiration there that she hadn’t expected, and that was more than merely amusing.
‘I think you should let me go,’ she said.
‘Yes, perhaps you’re right,’ he said with a regretful sigh.
As he led her from the floor he said, ‘I’m sorry, Sally, I didn’t mean to—you know. It’s just that I think my brother’s the luckiest fellow on earth. I know I shouldn’t say that but—don’t be mad at me.’
‘I’m not,’ she said truthfully.
She was too unused to male admiration to be offended by it. And it passed across her mind that it was a look she never saw in Damiano’s eyes. Or expected to.
The evening was moving to its climax. Damiano signalled for silence and attention.
‘I thank you all for coming here tonight, to honour my bride,’ he said. ‘I am a lucky man, as you can see, and I thank her for being ready to put up with me.’
He raised his glass in salute to her, as did everyone else in the room. Then there was more dancing. Many of the guests were business acquaintances, anxious to display their respect for the bride of a powerful man.
‘How are you managing?’ Damiano asked her after a while.
‘Wonderfully. Everyone’s nice to me, but it’s a little hot in here. I need to go outside for a moment.’
Briefly she hoped that he would come with her, but someone called his name, so she headed for the garden alone.
She was vaguely aware of curious glances, some from people fascinated to know that this was Damiano’s bride, the woman with the magic to conquer Venice’s most stony-hearted man. The others came from the few folk who hadn’t recognised her, and wondered who the masked figure might be.
A good question, she thought. I’m beginning to wonder myself.
It was peaceful in the garden. Pleasant as it was to be the centre of attention, she knew it was based on an illusion. Now she knew a mysterious desire to be alone, free from the need to pretend.
She was about to return to the ballroom when she heard two voices a few feet away, speaking in English.
‘I must admit I’m a bit surprised to see Damiano taking a new wife at this precise moment,’ said a woman.
Sally tensed, unable to move as a man replied, ‘You mean at Carnival? But it’s all so cheerful. Surely that’s a good time to get married?’
‘Carnival has special memories for Damiano. That’s when he finally won Gina after he’d given up hope. I was there at the party when she walked in, and I saw his face when he realised she’d come back to him. At first he simply couldn’t believe he was seeing her, but as he walked across the floor to her his face lit up and his arms opened.’
‘Really? It’s not like Damiano to be demonstrative.’
‘True,’ the woman agreed. ‘You never saw a man so happy. She threw herself into his arms and the two of them fled. We didn’t see them again that night. Next thing we heard they were getting married.’
‘And then she died.’
‘Yes, their happiness was so short-lived. It makes you wonder how he’s feeling now. Can he bear to play the lover of another woman when he must be haunted by those memories tonight?’
‘Aren’t you being a bit sentimental?’ the man asked ironically.
‘Probably. I expect he’s madly in love with this new bride and has forgotten all about Gina.’
Sally hurried away. She didn’t want to be discovered now, while she was so shaken by what she had heard.
Madly in love with his new bride. Nothing could be further from the truth. If anything his marriage was another affirmation of his love for Gina. For the sake of their son he would do anything, even marry a woman he didn’t love.
How well he’d played his part, she thought, honouring her, showing her off with apparent pride, concealing his true feelings.
Whatever
they were.
He was waiting for her at the entrance to the ballroom.
‘There you are. I was worried about you.’
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone.’
He took her hand.
‘Perhaps it was all getting a little much for you,’ he said gently. ‘You look tired. Why don’t you slip quietly away and leave me to bid everyone farewell?’
He was right, she thought. She needed to be alone, to think about what she’d heard, and reinforce her defences. And somewhere in her heart she knew that he was glad to bring the evening to an end. He’d behaved perfectly, but now the strain was catching up with him. He needed to be away from the crowd congratulating him on his bride. And he needed to be away from the bride herself. That was the truth.
She said her goodbyes and departed. Once back in her room she stripped off the extravagant costume and mask, and regarded herself in the mirror.
‘The is me,’ she said. ‘The real me. The only me.’ But then she sighed, regarding her lean figure and blank face. ‘Oh, dear. Not very impressive.’
She thought of the evening behind her when she had been officially the star, while secretly knowing that she was playing second fiddle.
The stand-in, she thought with a sigh. The understudy, performing because the one he really wanted wasn’t available any more.
But then her sensible side reappeared and she sighed again; this time with exasperation with herself.
Oh, stop being difficult, Sally. You agreed to this as a deal, with something gained on both sides. He’s keeping his side so shut up and stop complaining.
From her window she saw the crowd stream away from the hotel and the lights go out.
At last she heard Damiano come upstairs and go to his room. She waited, tense and hopeful, and to her relief there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find him there, stripped of his dramatic costume, now in pyjamas and dressing gown. He was holding two glasses of wine, one of which he held out to her. She took it and ushered him in.
‘I’m sorry to have run away.’
‘It’s all right,’ he said, sitting on the bed. ‘You were marvellous. Everyone admired you.’