The Venetian Playboy’s Bride

by Lucy Gordon

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘I ordered more coffee for you,’ Jenny said.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll answer it,’ Dulcie said, rising and making her way to the outer door, where someone outside was knocking again, impatiently.

  She pulled it open and saw Guido.

  Mingled with her first leap of joy was amusement at his expression. He looked definitely sheepish, and entered cautiously, as though expecting boiling oil to fall on him. Remembering their last meeting Dulcie wondered if she herself should be looking for boiling oil.

  ‘You’re not still mad at me?’ he asked, studying her smiling face.

  ‘Should I be?’ she fenced.

  ‘Well, you were pretty mad last night. I should remember because you threw me into the water.’

  ‘I didn’t throw you, you tripped.’

  ‘You didn’t help me out.’

  ‘You can swim.’

  ‘And I had to. In the end I got picked up by a barge carrying garbage and I got home smelling so bad even the alley cats fled from me. It’s not funny,’ he added as her lips twitched.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Yes, I guess it is,’ he conceded wryly. ‘When I awoke today I knew I had to see you and explain, try to make you understand how it happened-but now-all that really matters is-’ he became absorbed in watching her face ‘-all that matters-kiss me, my darling, kiss me!’

  He pulled her against him in the same moment that she opened her arms to him. She knew now how badly she’d longed for the feel of his lips on hers. She’d pretended it wasn’t true, but secretly she’d ached for him to kiss her.

  ‘I’ve wanted to do this so often,’ he murmured between kisses. ‘I knew from the first moment that it was you, and you knew it too, didn’t you, cara?’

  ‘I don’t know what I knew,’ she whispered, dazed.

  ‘You did, you must have done.’ He kissed her again and again. ‘So many kisses to make up,’ he said against her mouth. ‘And all our lives for more kisses.’

  ‘All our-?’ She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Everything was going too fast.

  ‘Of course. Years and years to spend kissing you and loving you in every possible way. Years to have beautiful children with you.’ He pulled back, taking her head gently between his hands, and she never afterwards forgot the sight of his face, gloriously happy, blazing with triumphant love. It lived in her mind as a terrible contrast to what followed.

  ‘Tell me, darling,’ he said crazily, ‘do you believe in Fate?’

  ‘Well, I-’

  ‘Because it was Fate, wasn’t it, that brought us together, Fate that made your sandal fall off straight into my boat?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she said, beginning to see danger.

  ‘It wasn’t an accident?’ he asked, eyes wide. Suddenly he burst into joyful laughter. ‘You saw me from the bridge, and you said to yourself, “I must have this handsome fellow”, so you tossed your shoe to get my attention. Oh, cara, say that it’s true. Think what it will do for my ego.’

  ‘Your ego is quite big enough without help,’ she countered, playing for time. “‘This handsome fellow” indeed!’

  ‘Last night when you were angry I thought my life was over.’ Abruptly his tone changed and he spoke in a moved voice that startled her. ‘Because that’s what you are to me. My life.’

  ‘But you don’t know me-’

  ‘I knew you from the first moment. I know you have a kind heart and will forgive my innocent deception, because you know it didn’t spring from malice. But tell me, how did you find out? I was going to ask you last night, but you were too busy throwing me into the canal.’ With his mercurial nature he’d gone from serious to clowning in a split second. Dulcie could barely keep up with him.

  ‘I don’t blame you for ducking me,’ he hastened to add. ‘When you found out I wasn’t whom you thought-how did you find out by the way?’

  ‘I didn’t, not until later.’

  ‘But-then why were you mad at me? I’m not an unreasonable man, cara, but when someone throws me into the canal I like to know why.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ she asked, finding his fun irresistible, even at this fraught moment. ‘I should think Venice is full of people who’d like to throw you into canals.’

  ‘Sure to be. But they usually control it.’

  What a life it would be with this enchanting madman, she thought. If only she could navigate the shoals ahead first.

  ‘Listen,’ she said urgently, ‘I’ve got something to tell you-’

  ‘Tell me that you love me,’ he broke in. ‘Tell me that first and last and what do I care for anything else? You do love me, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I do. But listen to me, it’s important-’

  ‘Nothing is important except that we’ve found each other. Kiss me, now and always-’

  She was in his arms again, her troubled words silenced by his lips, and this time it was different, as though her confession of love had invigorated him. Before, his embrace had been troubled, cautious, asking her response. Now he was a man who knew himself loved and it was there in the possessiveness of his mouth and his arms. She would tell him everything in a moment, she promised herself, but just a moment-and another moment-

  ‘Is that the coffee?’ came a call from the next room.

  ‘A curse on anyone who interrupts us,’ Guido sighed. ‘We shall have to go and be polite carissima, but soon we must be alone together, and then-’

  There was another shout from inside and Guido reluctantly let her go.

  ‘Later,’ he whispered, then raised his voice to call, ‘Fede,’ and went in search of the voice. ‘What the devil are you doing here? And Jenny! How wonderful to see you again!’

  Dulcie followed him into the main room to find him laughingly embracing Jenny.

  ‘You two know each other?’ he said, looking from Jenny to Dulcie.

  ‘Only slightly,’ Dulcie said quickly.

  ‘Guido my friend, I was going to call you and beg your help,’ Fede said quickly.

  ‘You two don’t look as if you need my help. I never saw two lovers so happy.’

  ‘But Jenny’s Poppa still wants to break us up. He even put a private detective on our trail to discredit me.’

  Guido made a sound of disgust. ‘A private detective? What kind of miserable apology for a human being deliberately chooses such a sneaky, underhand job? Still, what harm can he do you?’

  There was an awkward silence. Dulcie took a deep breath.

  ‘It’s not a he,’ she said. ‘It’s me.’

  Slowly Guido turned to look at her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘W HAT did you say?’ Guido asked quietly.

  It took all her courage to say, ‘I’m the private detective.’

  ‘You?’ he sounded as though he didn’t know what the words meant.

  ‘But Dulcie is on our side now,’ Fede said eagerly, ‘so it’s all right. She’s going to help us.’

  ‘I don’t know if Roscoe will listen to me,’ Dulcie said, ‘but I’ll do everything I can.’

  Guido was gazing at her curiously, but his manner was still calm. He hadn’t quite understood yet. Or maybe he didn’t want to.

  ‘You’re-a private detective?’ he repeated slowly, still in that strange way, as though he was trying to decipher meaningless sounds.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you came here to-?’

  ‘Roscoe’s worried about Jenny. He got the wrong end of the stick. He thought Fede was claiming to be you.’

  ‘Can you imagine that?’ Fede chuckled. ‘Me, related to a count! So he sent Dulcie to find me and tempt me away from my Jenny. As though anyone could do that. Only-here’s the joke-she thought you were me!’

  ‘And so she targeted me instead,’ Guido said lightly. ‘Yes, it’s an excellent joke.’ A light had gone out of him, not just from his eyes but from his whole being. ‘So that’s what it was all about.’

  Jenny made a sli
ght restless movement at an intonation she heard in Guido’s voice. Fede, an innocent, was merely trying to put Guido in the picture without realising the implications. Jenny tried to attract his attention but he was in full flight.

  ‘There aren’t many who fool you, Guido,’ he observed cheekily.

  ‘Until today I’d have said none at all,’ Guido responded at once. He raised Dulcie’s hand to his lips. ‘My congratulations, signorina. A wonderful masquerade, played out to the finish with utter conviction.’

  ‘You got the better of him, Dulcie,’ Fede said. ‘Someone should give you a medal.’

  ‘That will be my privilege,’ Guido said quietly.

  There was no anger or condemnation in his eyes. Just a puzzled look, as though he were wondering how the world could have changed in a moment. Dulcie ground her nails into her palm. If only she could have told him in her own words. Now he’d heard in the worst possible way.

  ‘Perhaps,’ she said carefully, ‘you should wait until you know the whole story. There’s so much you don’t know-that I must explain-’

  ‘A man never knows the whole of it,’ he agreed. ‘But enough to matter. Enough to cast a strange light over what he thought was true, and show it in very ugly colours.’

  It was hard for her to answer, but before she could even try he’d given Jenny a friendly, reassuring smile, saying, ‘So we have a problem. We have to solve it. That’s all. At least you can tell your Poppa that Fede has made no false claims. That should please him.’

  ‘You don’t know my father,’ Jenny said. ‘When he takes “agin” someone, that’s it.’

  ‘And it’s my poverty that really offends him,’ Fede said gloomily. ‘When he knows the truth he’ll want Jenny to marry you, and be a countess.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Guido said lightly. ‘I shall tell him I’m going to become a monk. Love is too complicated for me.’ He turned to Dulcie. ‘So you were sent here to delude us. Are you going to tell us your real name?’

  ‘I’ve been using my real name,’ she said, adding softly, ‘unlike some people.’

  He had the grace to redden, but recovered himself. ‘But what’s in a name?’ he asked her. ‘That isn’t always where the truth lies.’

  ‘Yes, there’s also the work people do, and pretending to live one kind of life while actually living another.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘You talk to me about a “pretend” life?’

  That silenced her.

  ‘Have you thought of anything yet?’ Fede asked anxiously.

  ‘Patience,’ Guido adjured him. ‘I’ve only just discovered how things really stand.’ A tremor went through him, although his face still smiled. ‘Even a genius like me can only think so fast.’

  ‘It’s hopeless,’ Fede said, immediately plunged into gloom. ‘Nothing can be done.’

  ‘Why don’t we ask Dulcie?’ Guido suggested. ‘After all, intrigue is her profession, and she does it surpassingly well.’

  ‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘This is a Venetian intrigue, and my talents don’t stretch to it.’

  ‘You do yourself an injustice, signorina,’ Guido assured her quietly. ‘You have the Venetian gift for dodging around corners, looking at one fact, seeing another, and believing a third. It’s a great skill and most outsiders never acquire it. You, I believe were born with it.’

  ‘On the contrary, signore,’ she said, meeting his eyes defiantly. She’d found her second wind now, and if this was the game he wanted to play, then he would find she could give as good as she got. ‘You forget that I’ve recently been taking lessons from a master.’

  ‘And I,’ he murmured so softly that only she could hear, ‘I, who thought I had nothing left to learn, have found differently.’

  ‘Life is full of unexpected lessons,’ she murmured back. ‘People may be more innocent than they seem.’

  ‘People may certainly be very different to how they seem,’ he said, subtly twisting her words.

  She nodded. ‘For instance, you shouldn’t trust someone who plays games.’

  He shrugged. ‘You could say that about everyone.’

  ‘No, some of us have a living to earn.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ he seemed much struck. ‘When it’s done for money it’s so much more virtuous, is it not?’

  Her eyes met his and found in them something unexpected. He was angry but he was also hurt and confused. This situation had caught him off balance, and he wasn’t coping as smoothly as he tried to make out.

  A moment later he rose, kissed Jenny’s cheek, shook Fede’s hand and said with a flourish, ‘Bless you. I’m happy for you. And don’t worry, I’ll think of something. And you, signorina-’ he turned to Dulcie ‘-it was a pleasure talking to you but now I must be going. I’ve been unaccountably neglecting my work recently and now there’s a mountain of it awaiting me, that will occupy me for some time.’

  He was gone without waiting for a reply, but she had none to make. What could she say to a man who so clearly wanted to get away from her?

  At Guido’s souvenir factory on the island of Murano his employees were becoming concerned. For several days their employer had been absent without warning. Once a day he’d called them, but then switched his phone off and was impossible to contact.

  His return caused general relief, which soon turned to surprise. Guido had always run an efficient business, but he’d done so with good humour, teasing, and the occasional semi-flirtatious coaxing. No more. His orders were still given with courtesy, but coolly, crisply, like a man with no time to spare. When someone cracked a joke in his presence he looked blank, as though wondering what a joke was.

  It took Dulcie a day to track him down, and as she walked into the factory she had a horrible suspicion that everyone there knew who she was and why she was here. But the young man in the entrance directed her upstairs without fuss.

  On the top floor she found Guido’s office, and through the windows that formed the walls she could see him there at his desk, talking to a middle-aged man. The man saw her and nudged Guido, making him look up.

  His face startled her. It was tired and worn, as if he hadn’t slept for an age and had forgotten how to smile. He glanced in her direction, then away, and for a dreadful moment she thought he would refuse to see her. But then he nodded and indicated for her to be shown in.

  The inside of his office reminded her how little she really knew him. The computer, the multiple phone lines, the stacks of files, the walls covered in plans and diagrams, all these told her that this was a man who took his business seriously.

  ‘Is this the real you?’ she asked lightly.

  ‘One of me,’ he answered briefly. ‘I’m surprised to find you still in Venice. I thought you’d have gone yesterday.’

  ‘You know I didn’t because you heard me knocking on your door last night.’ She added quietly, ‘I knocked for a long time before I went away.’

  ‘It wasn’t a good moment,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have known what to say, especially in that place.’ His eyes challenged her with memories of the few happy days they’d spent in the little apartment. Then he looked away and began to pace his office, never getting too close to her. ‘But I’m glad you came to see me.’

  ‘You are?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘Yes, it’s right that we should say goodbye properly.’

  His coolly dismissive tone annoyed her. ‘I’ll say goodbye when I’m good’n ready, not when you tell me to. There’s a lot more to be said first.’ In a softer tone she added, ‘I listened to you when you were making your excuses yesterday.’ She added, ‘And that’s not all I listened to you saying.’

  She regretted the words at once. If his face wasn’t closed against her before it was now. She’d reminded him of what he didn’t want to remember.

  ‘It wasn’t kind of you to bring that up,’ he said. ‘You should have laughed over your victory in private, not to my face.’

  ‘Laugh over-? What are you saying? I’m not laughing. I never meant any
of this to happen.’

  ‘You never meant? Excuse me, I understood that you came to Venice deliberately, for a purpose.’

  ‘But it had nothing to do with you,’ she cried.

  ‘Ah, yes, I’d forgotten. You came to deceive and ruin my friend, not me, which of course makes everything all right.’

  ‘I came to protect Jenny from a fortune hunter.’

  ‘And how could you be so sure he was a fortune hunter? Your information was hardly brilliant since you confused him with me.’

  ‘The information was lousy,’ she admitted. ‘It came from Roscoe. But the idea was to find out if he was right.’

  ‘He’d made up his mind before you started.’

  ‘He had, I hadn’t.’

  He stopped pacing and spoke angrily, ‘For pity’s sake, what kind of woman does this? Is it how you get your kicks?’

  ‘No, I do it to eat. I’ve got nothing. Roscoe paid for everything.’

  He regarded her with what might almost have been a smile. ‘Like a theatrical performance, really. Set and costumes courtesy of Roscoe Harrison, and script by-who? Did you cook it up between you?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that-’

  ‘Answer me,’ he said sternly. There was no trace in him now of the light-hearted young man who’d enchanted her. There was something grim in his manner that she wouldn’t have believed without seeing it. ‘Answer me,’ he commanded again. ‘How much of what happened between us was planned?’

  ‘I came to seek out Federico. I thought it was you because of the picture.’ She showed him the snapshot. ‘Yes, I was looking for your face, but when I found you, you were wearing his shirt, with his name on it-’

  ‘And how did you happen to find me?’

  ‘I was searching for you,’ she admitted.

  He raised his eyebrows sardonically. ‘So our very meeting wasn’t the accident I thought. And that touching moment when your sandal fell at my feet in the gondola?’

  The moment he’d called Fate, with shining eyes, full of love.

  ‘I threw it,’ she admitted in despair. ‘I stood on the bridge hoping you’d look up, and when you didn’t I tossed my sandal.’