Bartering Her Innocence

by Trish Morey

  Her mother sniffed as she sat back in her chair, and it was hard to tell whether she was pleased or disappointed. It was obvious she wasn’t surprised. ‘So, will it lead anywhere this time, do you think?’

  That one was easier to answer. ‘No.’

  ‘You seem very sure.’

  ‘I am sure.’

  ‘What about Luca?’

  ‘He’s sure too. We’re both sure. Can we just leave it at that?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, putting her cup down on its saucer with barely a clink, and Tina hoped that was the full stop on that particular conversation.

  But then her mother sighed. ‘And yet,’ she continued, ‘it seems to me that for a man to come back for a second bite of the cherry, there must be something he finds...compelling about a woman. I mean, if a man comes looking for an encore, then surely he must be—’

  ‘—looking for an easy lay. Leave it, Lily. I don’t want to hear it. It’s not leading anywhere. At the end of the month I walk away. Luca stays here.’ She shrugged. ‘End of story.’

  ‘Well, it just seems such a waste. I don’t know why you’re not taking advantage of this arrangement. You could do a lot worse for a husband.’

  Tina rubbed her forehead. Why did headaches so often coincide with visits to Lily? ‘I’m not actually in the market for a husband.’

  ‘But if something were to happen...’

  ‘Like what? Like a baby, you mean? I’m hardly going to fall pregnant. Not twice to the same man. I’m not that stupid.’

  Her mother shrugged and stood, looking around the room. ‘It’s lovely you dropped by, but I should do some more sorting, I suppose. Luca is sending an army of men to do the chandeliers, but I don’t want them touching my precious ornaments and there’s such a lot to do.’ She looked up at her daughter, a decided gleam in her eyes. ‘I don’t suppose you could help?’

  Tina blinked, not really surprised that her mother would ask for help, more surprised she wanted her to help with her precious glass. ‘Are you sure? I’m hardly going to be able to decide what you want to keep.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll decide what to keep,’ she said, handing over a bundle of tissue. ‘You can wrap.’

  Tina smiled in spite of herself, liking her mother’s succinct and pointed delineation of their duties.

  And because it wasn’t as if she didn’t have time on her hands and because maybe it would offer them a chance to talk, maybe even to get to know each other a little better than they did, she agreed. ‘You’re on.’

  * * *

  Two hours later they’d barely made a dent on the collection and there was still precious little in the ‘sell’ box. Lily gave a sigh of contentment as if she’d just cleared an entire room when all they’d touched was a couple of side tables. ‘Well, I think that’s more than enough for the day.’

  Tina looked around at what was left. At this rate it would take six months to clear the room, and then there was still the rest of the palazzo.

  ‘Oh no,’ her mother said, passing an ornament across. ‘This one can go.’

  Tina took it from her, a strange shivery sensation zipping out along her nerve endings. It was a prancing horse, just like the one the glassmaker had made at the factory. ‘Luca took me to Murano this morning,’ she said, holding the horse up to the light. ‘They made one of these there while we watched.’

  ‘I suspect that’s probably where it came from. You might as well throw that one away. Nobody will buy it. They’re a dime a dozen.’

  Tina held the fragile glass horse. Thought of the boy with big brown eyes. Thought of another child who would have grown up with horses on the property, who would have ridden before he could walk, who would never get the chance to have his own horse.

  Her son should have his own horse.

  He deserved it.

  ‘Can I have it?’

  ‘Of course you can have it. But I thought you didn’t like glass.’

  ‘Not for me,’ she said, already wrapping it carefully in layers of tissue. ‘It’s for...a friend.’

  Carmela appeared, brandishing a tray with drinks for them both, and it was only then, thinking about the trip out to Murano, that she remembered what she had meant to tell her mother. And what she most wanted to ask. ‘Oh, I meant to say, Luca’s cousin asked him to drop off some flowers on the way home from Murano at Isola di San Michele. I took the opportunity to pay my respects to Eduardo.’

  ‘Oh poor Eduardo,’ Lily said on a sigh, looking wistfully out of the window. ‘I do wish he hadn’t left me like he did. None of this would be happening if he was still around.’

  ‘Do you miss him?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ Lily sounded almost offended. ‘Besides which, it’s such a difficult business trying to find a new husband at my age. It’s not easy when you’re over fifty.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘And that’s why you should take your chances while you have them. You’re young and pretty now, but it won’t last, let me tell you.’

  In spite of herself, Tina smiled. ‘The World According to Lily’ would make a fabulous book if her mother ever thought to write it. It wouldn’t be a thick book, certainly, but part fashion advice, part self-help, with a big dollop of how to marry into money, and all put together by someone who had lived by its principles and—mostly—prospered, it would be a guaranteed bestseller.

  But just right now she didn’t want her mother’s advice. What she wanted was her knowledge to answer a question that had been burning away in the back of her mind ever since her visit to the cemetery island.

  ‘I visited the crypt, of course. I couldn’t help but notice Luca’s parents were both dead. I had no idea and he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. What happened to them?’ she ventured cautiously. ‘Do you know?’

  Lily sipped her gin, looking thoughtful. ‘That was way before my time. Must be twenty years ago now. Maybe more. Some kind of boating accident here on the lagoon if I remember rightly. It was the reason Luca came to live with him and Agnetha, of course.’

  Tina’s ears pricked up. ‘He lived with Eduardo? Here?’

  ‘He grew up with them. Of course he lived here, although he’d already moved on by the time we married. I’m sure Eduardo told me. Let me see...’ She hesitated a while, blinking into the distance. ‘From what I remember him saying, Matteo’s family offered to take him in but because Eduardo and Agnetha had no children of their own, it was decided he should go to them.’

  Tina drank in the details, holes in her knowledge filling with new information. Holes filling with even more questions.

  So this had been his home then.

  Where he had lived with his uncle and aunt before his aunt had died and before Lily had come along...

  Was that why he seemed to resent Lily so much? Because by marrying Eduardo she had stolen his inheritance out from underneath him?

  Was that the reason he was so desperate to get it back?

  * * *

  Where the hell was she?

  Luca stood at the balcony overlooking the Grand Canal wondering where she’d disappeared to. Sure, they’d had an argument, but they had a deal. One month she’d agreed to and she’d been the one to set the term. He’d checked her wardrobe. The clothes seemed untouched, her pack still there stowed in one corner. So she hadn’t just decided to take advantage of his absence and renege on their deal.

  So where the hell was she?

  Sightseeing?

  Or just blowing off steam?

  He looked out over the canal that was the lifeblood of Venice, feeling sick to his stomach and desperately scanning the faces on every passing vaporetto, searching for a glimpse of Australian sunshine in a size-eight package. She was out there somewhere. She had to be.

  But where?

  * * *

  It wasn’t an excus
e for the way he’d behaved, Tina thought, as she hurried along the shadowed calles, even if it helped explain his actions. But it still didn’t excuse them. To go the lengths he had gone to get back a house simply because in other circumstances it might one day have been his—it made no sense.

  Lamps were coming on around her. She looked up at the darkening sky, thinking that she’d stayed much longer at her mother’s than she’d intended to, so arriving back at Luca’s palazzo much later than she’d expected, the tiny horse tucked safe and sound in a stiff shopping bag Carmela had found for her.

  She buzzed the bell on the gate and it clicked open, and it wasn’t Aldo who greeted her at the door, but Luca.

  She swallowed. After the bitter way they’d parted earlier, she wasn’t sure how happy he’d be to see her.

  And after what she’d learned about him, she wasn’t sure she knew what to say. He saved her from having to decide.

  ‘Have you been shopping?’ he asked, looking at the bag in her hand, and after the way they’d parted she couldn’t help but notice a tense note in his voice; couldn’t help but feel a tinge of resentment that there would be something wrong if she had gone shopping. ‘Aldo said you’ve been gone for hours.’

  ‘No.’ She started working herself up into righteous indignation. ‘As it happens, I’ve been helping Lily pack some things. I didn’t realise I was expected to ask for permis—’

  ‘You were at your mother’s the whole time?’

  She blinked up at him. ‘Do I know another Lily in Venice?’

  He regarded her through eyes half-shuttered, assessing. ‘You surprise me, Valentina. You constantly surprise me. You seemed so vehemently opposed to meeting with your mother.’

  ‘I don’t know why you should be so surprised,’ she said, hitching up her chin as she made a move to walk past him. ‘We’re practically strangers. You don’t know the first thing about me.’

  ‘Don’t I?’ he asked, lashing out a hand to encircle her wrist, blocking off her path with the subtle shift of his body, a body built for sex, the subtle movement enough to remind her of all the heated moves it was capable of. ‘And yet I know how to make the lights in your eyes explode like fireworks. I know how to turn you molten with one flick of my tongue. I know what you like and I’m thinking that’s probably slightly more than the first thing about you, wouldn’t you agree, Valentina?’

  He was so intense. Too intense, the way his words worked in concert with his eyes, getting under her skin and worming their way into her very bones. She could scarcely breathe in his presence, so focused was his gaze upon her, the fingers wrapped around her wrist so tightly clenched.

  ‘You can call me Tina, you know,’ she whispered, desperately needing a change of subject, her words almost crackling in the heated air of his proximity. ‘You don’t have to do the whole Valentina thing every time. Tina works for me just fine.’

  He blinked. Slowly. Purposefully. ‘Why would I call you something short and sharp, when your full name is so lush and sensual? When your full name holds as many seductive hills and valleys as your perfect body?’

  She couldn’t answer. There were no words to answer. Not when instead of counteracting his intensity, she had inadvertently ramped it up tenfold.

  ‘No,’ he stated, with an air of authority that both infuriated her and rocked her to the soles of her feet as he pulled her close for his kiss, ‘Tina does not work for me at all.’

  They dined in that night, but only after they’d made love late into the night. She couldn’t tell whether it was anger or relief that tinged his love-making but, whatever it was, it gave yet another nuance to the act of sex. Worst of all, it gave her reason for not hating the fact she had to be here.

  Later, when still she couldn’t sleep worrying about it, she slipped from the bed to stand in the big salone and look out through the set of four windows overlooking the Grand Canal, watching the reflection of light onto water. Watching the seemingly endless activity of a water-borne society while her mind wandered and wondered.

  What was happening to her?

  She’d spent one night with him three years ago and she hadn’t seen him since. After what had happened, she hadn’t wanted to see him again. But sex with Luca was like an addiction that had been suppressed, a drug refused, and one taste had sent her back to that feverish place where need was paramount and hunger would not be denied.

  And maybe, if she was honest with herself, she hadn’t lived those three years at all.

  Maybe she’d only existed in the shadow of one perfect night, one perfect night that had all too rapidly turned toxic.

  Maybe she’d only barely survived.

  * * *

  Despite her misgivings, they seemed to slip into a routine after that. Tina would go and help her mother sort her belongings in preparation for the upcoming move. Some days Lily would be more receptive to her help than others, but she felt that finally they were building some kind of fragile rapport as they worked room by room through the maze of glass.

  She still couldn’t forgive her mother entirely for landing her in Luca’s bed, but neither could she honestly say she wasn’t enjoying the experience—at least a little.

  Well, maybe more than just a little.

  There was something about being with Luca that made her feel alive and sexy, vibrant and feminine, and all at the same time. It was no hardship to be seen on his arm, to feel the envy from other women, envy she enjoyed all the more because she knew it would be short-lived. It was no hardship to feel his heated glances and know what was on his mind.

  And the sex was good too.

  Just sex, she’d remind herself, putting the lid back on that imaginary box and tucking it under the bed when Luca went to work in the mornings.

  Just sex. And in a few short weeks she would return home and it would all be a distant memory. Why shouldn’t she enjoy it while it lasted?

  * * *

  A week after she’d arrived in Venice, she turned up at her mother’s house. She heard Lily the moment she entered the rapidly emptying palazzo. The echoing torrent of French coming from upstairs almost had her turning her back and fleeing, until she realised from the few impassioned words she could understand that it wasn’t fury her mother was radiating, but delight.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked Carmela, peering suspiciously up the stairs as she peeled off her jacket.

  The housekeeper took it to slide over a hanger. ‘She’s talking to the gallery owner, the one who has agreed to take her glass on consignment. There must be good news.’

  Lily came bounding down the stairs a minute later, her eyes bright, looking more like a schoolgirl than a fifty-something woman. But then she’d changed her hair too, Tina realised, so that now it framed her face more softly, stripping years from her face.

  ‘What is it?’ Tina asked.

  ‘You’ll never guess. Antonio has a contact in London. They’re doing a display of Venetian glass and they want everything I can send. Antonio thinks it will make a fortune!’

  ‘Antonio?’

  Her mother actually looked coy, her hands tangling in front of her. ‘Signore Brunelli, of course, from the gallery handling the sale.’

  Tina glanced across at the housekeeper, who gave a quick nod before bustling back in to pack up the last of the kitchen, and suddenly her mother’s change of mood in the last few days made some kind of sense.

  And even though that was what her mother did, finding her next partner with unerring precision, Tina couldn’t help but smile at seeing her so happy. ‘That’s great, Lily.’

  ‘That’s not all,’ her mother continued, her eyes sparkling. ‘He wants me to come to London with him. He says I will be the bridge between the Venetian and the British, unifying the collection and giving it purpose. He’s taking me to dinner tonight to talk about the details. He thinks we
should be there for a month at least.’

  She took a deep breath, looking around her as if trying to work out what she’d been up to before the call. ‘Well, I guess we should get to work. It will be such a relief when it’s all done.’

  Relief? The one hundred and eighty degree change in her mother’s mood from when she’d first arrived in Venice would be something worth celebrating if only Tina wasn’t left with a bad taste in her mouth. Where was her relief? Where was her upside?

  She’d been the one to make the sacrifice here—forced to spend a month with a man she hated while her mother not only got on with her life but prospered. Where was the justice?

  ‘Don’t you mind about the move any more? When I came here, you were so angry with Luca, with me, with your situation—with everything! How can you be so happy now?’

  ‘Don’t you want me to be happy?’ There were shades of the Lily of old in her question, shades of indignation that once would have been the spark set to combust into something more.

  ‘Of course I do, Lily. It’s just that—’ She threw her hands out wide in frustration. ‘It’s just that I’m still stuck with Luca while you seem to be getting on with your life now as if this is nothing but a minor inconvenience.’

  ‘Oh, Valentina.’ Her mother nodded on a sigh. ‘Please don’t be angry with me. Sit down a moment.’ She pulled her down alongside her on a sofa. ‘I have something I should say to you—Carmela will tell me off if I don’t.’

  She frowned. The idea of Carmela reprimanding her mother was too delicious. ‘What is it?’

  Lily shook her head and took her daughter’s hand. ‘I know we haven’t always been close, but I do know I treated you appallingly when you arrived. Even before you arrived. But I was so scared,’ she implored, ‘don’t you see? I had nobody else to turn to and Luca was threatening to throw me out onto the streets and I believed him. I had no idea he would come up with the apartment—he never hinted. I believed he would do his worst.’

  Tina nodded. ‘I know.’ And it was good to be reminded of how afraid they’d both been; of how Luca had ruthlessly manipulated them both to get what he wanted. It was such a short time ago and yet just lately it had been so much harder to remember. ‘It’s okay.’