The Venetian Playboy’s Bride

by Lucy Gordon

  ‘Uncle, I can explain-’ That was safely vague when you weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be explaining.

  ‘Certainly you should explain, not to me but to that charming young lady. The way you’ve treated her is abominable.’

  ‘That-depends on how you look at it,’ Guido said, carefully feeling his way.

  ‘That any nephew of mine-’ Francesco broke off, fulminating, leaving Guido as much in the dark as ever. ‘Get yourself in here.’ He indicated his study which struck Guido as ominous.

  The study was unrevealing. Wine glasses stood about, suggesting that everyone had spent some time in here, but the count took up his position in front of the cabinet, hiding the contents.

  ‘She’s a lady, do you realise that?’ the count boomed. ‘And you’ve behaved as though she were no more than-well, I don’t know what to say!’

  I wish you’d say a lot more, Guido thought. Then I might get a clue.

  ‘She was charming about it,’ Francesco went on. ‘Oh, yes! Breeding tells, although she probably wants to hang you from the highest lamppost after what happened tonight.’

  ‘What-exactly-happened tonight?’ Guido asked.

  ‘You ask me that?’

  ‘Yes, I did actually. And you two-’ Guido whirled on Leo and Marco ‘-can stop grinning or I’ll have your hides.’

  Had she seen the pictures or hadn’t she? If he didn’t find out soon he’d have a nervous breakdown.

  ‘Scusi signori.’ Liza had glided in like a ghost and began gathering wine glasses. Moving directly in front of Guido she gave him a brief thumbs up sign. He relaxed, but only a little.

  ‘I’m sorry about tonight but something came up,’ he said. ‘And if, as you say, she was charming about it-’

  ‘Lady Dulcie,’ Francesco said with awful dignity, ‘was naturally very disappointed not to have met you. She particularly asked me to tell you that.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘I also assured her that you would be at the masked ball, and she said how much she looked forward to meeting you there. She stressed that this meeting meant a great deal to her.’

  In his eagerness to bring Dulcie and Guido together the count was gilding the lily, giving Dulcie’s polite words a meaning they were never meant to bear. To Guido, his nerves already jangling, they sounded ominous. Clearly Dulcie had discovered the truth, but instead of denouncing him she was keeping her wrath for their next meeting. This was her message to announce the approach of doom.

  ‘Er-I think perhaps-excuse me, Uncle, something else has come up.’

  He got out as fast as he could.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I T WAS a mile to the Vittorio if you knew the backstreets well. Guido dodged and dived, taking a short cut that led through the house of a friend called Enrico, pilfered a glass of Enrico’s wine and a kiss from Enrico’s wife, before vanishing, calling his thanks over his shoulder.

  A few minutes short of the hotel he found himself beside a small canal. Hurrying along, he nearly collided with a woman coming the other way.

  ‘I’m so sorry-Dulcie! I-’

  But her face told him the worst, and her words confirmed it.

  ‘You are the lowest of the low,’ she flung at him.

  ‘If I could just explain-’

  ‘What is there to explain? Only that you’re a devious rat, and that I know already.’

  ‘Dio mio! You did see them.’

  ‘See what?’

  He tore his hair. ‘I wouldn’t have had this happen for the world-’

  ‘Then why do it? Oh, of course, you meant being found out. I suppose you thought I’d never discover the truth about you-’

  ‘I was going to tell you myself, I swear I was.’

  ‘And that was going to make it all right?’

  ‘Of course not but-if I could make you understand how it came about. It was an accident. I know I should have told you everything from the start, but does it really matter so much. Just one tiny little deception-’

  ‘One tiny little-? I don’t believe you said that. I should have known when you stood me up tonight, giving a very fishy excuse, in fact no excuse at all. Something came up! Surely you could have managed something better than that?’

  ‘I couldn’t think of anything,’ he admitted. ‘But now you know, can’t we start again?’

  ‘Am I hearing things? Even you couldn’t be so devious and unscrupulous-’

  ‘Cara, please, I know I don’t measure up to your high standards, but I will. I swear I will. Did I really do something so terrible?’

  ‘If you have to ask that you wouldn’t understand the answer. There’s no point in talking any more. Goodnight, and goodbye.’

  ‘You mustn’t leave now. Stay and listen to me.’ In his eagerness he took hold of her shoulders.

  ‘I don’t want to stay, and please let go of me.’

  ‘I can’t just let you go.’

  ‘You can’t do anything else. Take your hands off me.’

  ‘Just another few minutes,’ he begged.

  ‘What kind of fool do you take me for? Let go.’

  She tried to thrust her way past him, but he dropped his hands to her waist and drew her close.

  ‘I’ll let go,’ he said firmly, ‘when I’ve explained this.’

  She tried to escape. This kind of ‘explanation’ was too dangerous. But his lips were unexpectedly fierce on hers. He was kissing her like a man whose life depended on it, as if he feared he might never get the chance again, and there was a forcefulness in his lips and his arms that thrilled her even while she fought to stay aloof.

  She could feel the treacherous excitement creeping through her. Her heart and sensations cared nothing for the warnings of her head. They wanted him, wanted what was happening now, wanted it to continue…

  ‘Let me go,’ she gasped, managing to free her mouth.

  ‘I can’t do that,’ he said, also gasping. ‘I daren’t in case I never find you again. I won’t risk that.’

  ‘You’ve already lost me. I was never yours in the first place-’

  He silenced her in the only way possible. It wasn’t fair, she thought wildly. She’d fought this temptation since the moment she’d met him, and now he was forcing her to feel it when he’d just come from Jenny.

  The thought of Jenny gave her the courage she craved. Putting out all her strength she managed to free herself. He took a step back, fighting to keep his balance while she fended him off. Neither of them realised they were standing so close to the water until he toppled in with a yell and an almighty splash.

  Venetians live in and out of the water from their earliest years, and for one of them to fall into a canal is no big deal, except for the pollution. Guido kept his mouth firmly closed until he broke the surface, then rubbed his eyes and looked around for steps. But there were none in sight, and since it was low tide the stone bank was too high for him to climb out.

  He reached up his hand, calling, ‘Help me out, cara.’

  Dulcie had dropped to one knee and was regarding him anxiously. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, but I’m wet. Help me out.’

  ‘Why? You can swim!’

  ‘Sure, I’m a great swimmer-’

  ‘Good. Then swim home.’

  She rose to her feet and turned away.

  ‘Cara!’

  Before his horrified eyes she vanished into the darkness, leaving him bobbing in the water.

  It took another hour’s walking before Dulcie had talked herself back into a sensible frame of mind. So he was a treacherous creep. She’d always known that. It was what she’d come here to prove. Now she’d done so, earned her fee, and she was very happy. The feel of his lips was still on hers, telling her she was lying to herself, but she would be strong-minded about it.

  In this mood she returned to the Empress Suite, having made up her mind to warn Jenny about him. She’d waited too long already. Firmly she knocked on Jenny’s bedroom door.

  ‘I need to
talk to you,’ she called.

  Jenny’s voice came from inside. ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’

  ‘No, it’s important.’

  Strange muffled sounds reached her, and a grunt that had a masculine tone. Full of foreboding, Dulcie opened the door.

  The room was in darkness, but in the silver light from the window she could see the huge double bed. On one side of it was Jenny, hastily clutching the sheet to her. On the other side was a suspicious bump.

  Dulcie stared at that bump, disbelief warring with anger and misery. He’d not only played her false, but he’d rushed straight back here after their encounter by the canal.

  ‘This really isn’t a good time,’ Jenny protested.

  ‘I think it’s a great time to expose a man as a cheat and a liar,’ Dulcie said firmly, making for the far side of the bed and grabbing the sheet.

  A pair of hands grabbed it back. She yanked. He yanked. But she yanked harder, wrenching the bed-clothes right back to reveal the naked man beneath.

  She had never seen him before in her life.

  ‘This is Fede,’ Jenny said in a small voice.

  ‘This?’ Dulcie stared. ‘He’s not Fede.’

  ‘Yes I am,’ the young man declared, trying to haul the sheet back and cover his embarrassment. Having succeeded, he politely offered her his hand. ‘I am Federico Lucci. How do you do?’

  ‘Very badly,’ Dulcie said in a dazed voice. ‘In fact I think I’m going slightly crazy. If you’re Fede, who did I just throw into the canal?’

  They both stared at her.

  Dulcie turned away suddenly and went to stand in the window, looking out. She was beyond thought, and almost beyond feeling. Buried deep in her turmoil was something that might yet turn out to be happiness. It was too soon to say.

  The other two seized the chance to get out of bed and put some clothes on. When she looked back Fede had switched on the light, and now things began to be clearer-and more confused.

  In the picture Roscoe had shown her there had been two men, one playing the mandolin and singing to Jenny. Naturally she’d assumed this was Fede. The other man, sitting just behind them, was little more than a baby-faced boy. It had never occurred to her-or to Roscoe, she was sure-that he might be Fede.

  Yet it seemed that he was.

  Then who-?

  It was Jenny who recovered her composure first. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Why have you been going about throwing people into canals?’

  ‘Because he asked for it,’ Dulcie said wildly. ‘Because he-oh, no, he couldn’t have.’

  ‘Perhaps you have been too much in the sun?’ Fede suggested kindly.

  ‘Yes I was,’ Dulcie admitted. ‘I was very poorly and he looked after me. But I thought he was you-he was wearing your shirt-at least, it had your name on it-and rowing a gondola-’

  ‘It sounds like Guido,’ he said.

  The name stunned her. She’d been hearing about Guido all evening. ‘Guido who?’

  ‘Guido Calvani. He’s been my friend since we were at school. One day he’ll be a count, but what he really likes best is rowing my gondola. So I let him borrow it, but he has to pretend to be me because he doesn’t have a licence.’

  Dulcie forced her limbs to unfreeze long enough to go to her purse and take out the photograph.

  ‘Is that him? The one playing the mandolin?’

  ‘That’s Guido,’ Jenny said. ‘He’s been a good friend to Fede and me. When I first came to Venice he used to do Fede’s stints on the gondola so that we could be together.’

  ‘We knew we were being followed,’ Fede put in, ‘so sometimes we’d all go out together, to confuse her Poppa.’

  ‘You confused him all right,’ Dulcie said, sitting down suddenly.

  Jenny gave Dulcie a puzzled look. ‘But how do you come to have this picture?’

  ‘Your father gave it to me,’ Dulcie said reluctantly. ‘As you suspected, he had you followed when you were last here. He thought Fede was-well-’

  ‘A fortune hunter,’ Fede supplied wryly.

  ‘I’m afraid so, but it’s worse. He seems to have got you totally muddled with Guido, and thinks you claimed to be heir to a title.’

  ‘That’s what Guido was telling me when that picture was taken,’ Jenny remembered.

  ‘Your father’s spy must have been near enough to hear that,’ Dulcie said, ‘but not near enough to get the story straight. He obviously just overheard bits. Did he take this picture?’

  ‘No, it was taken by one of the street photographers to sell to tourists,’ Fede said. ‘I know because I bought a copy off him, and one seems to have reached the count, Guido’s uncle, and he’s been giving him a hard time about it ever since. Signor Harrison’s spy must have bought one too, and carried back a garbled version of what he’d overheard.’

  Jenny was looking at Dulcie curiously. ‘But why did Dad give this picture to you?’

  ‘Can’t you guess?’ Dulcie said bitterly. ‘I was sent here to find Fede and set him up.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Pretend to be rich, divert his attention from you. Find out if he really was an aristocrat, as he’s supposed to have claimed.’

  ‘But I’m not,’ Fede said blankly. ‘I’ve never pretended to be. That’s Guido.’

  ‘I know that now. I was supposed to make a play for Guido-Fede-flaunt my money-Roscoe’s money-then show you that he wasn’t faithful, that he’d follow the cash. I’m a private detective, Jenny.’

  ‘You’re a what?’

  ‘Your father hired me to “open your eyes”. It seems that he’s the one who’s blind. Oh, Jenny, I’m so sorry. I thought I was saving you from a deceiver. But I got it all wrong.’

  She braced herself for the shock and disillusion in Jenny’s eyes. But after the first moment Jenny relaxed and shrugged. As she looked at Fede a smile came over her face, and the next moment they were in each other’s arms.

  Dulcie understood. Jenny had the love of the man she loved, and nothing else mattered.

  ‘You mean you’ve been sweet-talking the wrong man all this week?’ she asked from the shelter of Fede’s embrace.

  ‘Something like that,’ Dulcie said stiffly.

  Jenny gave a choke of laughter, and Fede joined her. After a moment Dulcie too managed a weak smile.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ she said. ‘He’s been deceiving me.’

  ‘Well, you were deceiving him too.’

  ‘Only in a good cause,’ Dulcie said firmly. ‘But I don’t understand about this title. I’ve been to his home. It’s in a backwater. It’s not-’

  ‘Not what you’d expect from a future count,’ Fede supplied. ‘That’s why Guido likes it. Actually he’s a very rich man in his own right. He started a business making souvenirs. He owns two factories, one making glass, and one making all sorts of tourist knick-knacks, fancy dress, pictures, videos-’

  ‘Masks?’ Dulcie asked in a strange voice.

  ‘Oh, yes, masks. They’re his speciality. He even designs some of them himself, but mostly he’s a very sharp businessman. His official home is in the Palazzo Calvani, but he keeps that little apartment as a refuge, and of course it’s a good place to take the kind of ladies he doesn’t want his uncle to know ab-’ he stopped as Jenny kicked him.

  ‘Thank you,’ Dulcie said blankly. ‘I get the picture.’

  ‘It’s a pity you didn’t hit on the right man,’ Jenny mused.

  ‘Pardon?’ Fede was startled. ‘You want other women chasing me?’

  ‘Only because I know you’d have been faithful, my darling,’ she told him fondly. ‘Then Dulcie could have straightened the whole thing out with Dad.’

  ‘I’m not sure I could,’ Dulcie said. ‘He wants you to marry a rich man, or a title, preferably both.’

  ‘And all I want is Fede,’ Jenny said. ‘I don’t care if I never see a penny of Dad’s money. I’m of age. I don’t have to do what he says. It’s just that I wanted to avoid a split with him. You see, he’
s terribly stubborn. Once he’s “cast me off” he’ll feel he has to stick to it forever. And I’m all he’s got. If we have a break he’ll never see his grandchildren and he’ll have a miserable, grumpy old age.’

  ‘He’s very set on having his own way about this,’ Dulcie said.

  ‘So am I.’ For a moment Jenny’s face looked astonishingly like Roscoe’s. ‘So we just have to think of something.’ She yawned. ‘But let’s do it in the morning.’

  ‘It is the morning,’ Dulcie said. ‘It’s five o’clock.’

  ‘There’s plenty of night left,’ Jenny said firmly. ‘Goodnight, Dulcie. You should go and get some rest.’

  Dulcie could only go to her own room and strip off, trying to come to terms with her turbulent thoughts. Part of her was furious with Guido. This was all his fault for pretending to be Fede when he must have known he wasn’t, she thought illogically.

  But part of her was gloriously happy because he wasn’t a heartless schemer after all. All the best of him was true, the gentle consideration he’d shown her in his apartment, the chivalrous way he’d kept his distance while delicately hinting that he wanted something very different. It wasn’t the calculation of a man pursuing a woman’s fortune. It was the honest behaviour of a man who didn’t need her fortune.

  Her heart sank a little when she considered her own actions. But they had fooled each other, and surely they could put that behind them?

  She’d been holding back her feelings, but now there was nothing to stop her admitting her love, and the world was bright again. At last she fell into a deep sleep which lasted until nine the next morning. She rubbed her eyes, wondering what the day would bring.

  She showered and dressed hurriedly. As she left the bedroom she saw that breakfast had been served on the terrace. Jenny and Fede were sitting there drinking coffee, and they hailed her with smiles.

  ‘Isn’t it a wonderful morning?’ Jenny said blissfully. ‘I’m so happy I could die.’

  ‘Then I will die with you,’ Fede said gallantly.

  ‘We’ll all die if Roscoe gets wind of this,’ Dulcie said, but she too was happy. Guido was a free man. The delicate emotion that had built up between them over the last few days was love after all, and she was free to give her feelings full rein. If only she could see him soon.