Seduced by Innocence

by Lucy Gordon

  “Why?”

  “Maurizio, how can you ask why? I want her to hear from your own lips that you were wrong, that you know she didn’t ignore Rufio’s suicide note, because Francisco kept it from her. Surely you can see that she’s entitled to that?”

  After a moment, he nodded slowly and his grip on her hands tightened. He swung away, drawing her after him. She tried to speak, to tell him they were going the wrong way, but she couldn’t shout loud enough above the noise.

  At last they reached a small canal where one gondola was waiting. Before Terri could protest, she was hurried down the steps and aboard. The gondola rocked and she clutched Maurizio. “Sit down,” he said.

  “But I keep trying to tell you—” Even as she spoke, he was pushing her back against the cushions. A snap of his fingers made the gondolier push off and the next moment they were out in the middle of the water. “There was no need for this,” she said. “I keep trying to tell you that Elena is in St. Mark’s Square. We could have walked it.”

  “But we’re not going to St. Mark’s Square.”

  Something unfamiliar in the timbre of the voice made Terri look up sharply. Before her horrified eyes, the white mask was snatched away to reveal—

  “Francisco.” The world spun around her. “How did you get here?”

  “I’ve always been here, cara,” he said with a cold little smile. “I followed you from the square, hoping to catch you alone. I have important things to discuss with you and I’ve waited long enough.”

  “We’ve nothing to discuss. Let me out of here. I’ve got to find Maurizio.”

  “Maurizio can wait, but I can’t. I’ve done so much waiting for you, Teresa, and you’ve played the game very skillfully, I must admit.”

  “What game? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, I think we can drop the pretense now, don’t you? You’ve been my ideal of a perfect woman since the first moment I saw you, and I’m a man who demands perfection in everything. You know that because you understand me. You’ve shown it in a thousand ways.”

  “You’re mad. I’ve done my best to avoid you.”

  “I know, and I admired you for your discretion. There should be no gossip about my future countess.”

  “Your—what?”

  “Elena’s day is done. I need a son and I must look elsewhere. You please me, Teresa. Together we’ll make fine sons.”

  Aghast, she tried to push him away but she only made the gondola rock. The gondolier steadied it but seemed otherwise oblivious to what was going on. Terri realized he was Francisco’s private boatman who would obey his master, no matter what. She looked wildly around her but they were in a small backwater where the buildings came down directly into the canal. Not a soul was in sight. She tried to cry out but Francisco’s hand over her mouth choked off the sound.

  “Don’t make a sound,” he said. “Just listen. It’s a pity you found that letter. It’s forced my hand rather, but I’d have taken you in the end, anyway.”

  She twisted her head enough to speak. “You’re no better than a murderer. You let Rufio die—”

  “Don’t be stupid. I didn’t want him dead. I wanted him alive and tempting Elena to indiscretions that would help me divorce her. I kept the letter as evidence. I thought that soon there’d be more evidence to back it up. I never dreamed the hysterical boy would really kill himself. When he died, the letter became useless. But now that you’ve found it, I suppose you’ll go blabbing to Elena. So before you do, I’ll have to put you in the right frame of mind for our future.”

  “You’re mad,” she gasped. “A future with you? I’d rather live in a gutter.”

  He gave a noiseless laugh that filled her with dread. “My dear! What old-fashioned sentiments. But that was always part of your charm. How ungrateful you are when I’m offering you glory. Those pearls you rejected so disdainfully were just a little down payment.” He reached inside his cloak and produced the pearl necklace. “When I honor you with a gift, you do not return it,” he said through gritted teeth. “Here.” He thrust the necklace down the bosom of her dress while she tried to writhe away in disgust. “Now I think it’s time you thanked me.”

  He pressed her back against the cushions. Terri tried to fight him but he had a grip of iron. His face loomed above her in the night, the mouth stretched in a leering grin. “This is always the best part,” he said. “The beginning—a new woman whose body offers fresh delights.”

  His mouth crushed hers with cruel force. She tried to writhe away but his grip was unyielding. Her gorge rose at his kiss and the feel of him trying to drive his tongue between her lips. Her whole body was cold with horror, and fear rose within her as she realized that they were near the palazzo. Once inside, he could do what he liked and no one would help her. The thought of him touching her body, the body that belonged only to Maurizio, lent her strength. She managed to get her mouth free long enough to gasp, “Get away. You disgust me—”

  “My dear, what an irresistible invitation. If you’d been willing, you’d have had no charm for me. You’ve kept me at a distance until I was mad for you—but no longer.”

  He jerked her back into his arms. Terri fought him madly, dazed at the nightmare that had overtaken her.

  She had a strange sensation that the world had slowed down so that she was floating in a dream. Up ahead, she could see a bridge. At one end was the Harlequin figure she’d seen the other night. At the other end stood Elena, staring down at them as though transfixed by what she saw. The gondola glided closer and closer. Terri could feel herself losing the battle. She managed to cry out her despair and the sound echoed through the maze of canals.

  Then Elena seemed to come to life, throwing out her arms and screaming, “Francisco, no. She is my daughter.”

  The words seemed to galvanize Harlequin. In a swift, athletic movement he climbed the rail, stood poised for a moment and leapt down. The gondola rocked as he landed and threw the gondolier into the water. Francisco half rose, his face contorted and vicious, and raised his arm to strike, but then he, too, was in the water, sent flying by a well-aimed punch.

  Terri’s eyes were fixed on Harlequin’s face as he slid down into the seat beside her. Without speaking, he peeled away his mask. “Leo!” she cried. “Oh, God, Leo! You’re alive.” She clung to him, sobbing with joy.

  “Of course I’m alive,” he said in surprise.

  “But I didn’t know—you’ve been missing for four months.”

  “Four months?” He seemed dazed.

  “Where have you been?”

  He frowned. “I don’t—think I know.”

  There was a commotion from the bank. Francisco was struggling through the water. A tall figure in a baùtta had appeared from the shadows and was there waiting for him. As Francisco reached the bank, the stranger ripped aside his white mask, revealing Maurizio, with murder in his eyes. He grasped Francisco, yanked him ashore and thrust him against the wall.

  As the gondola touched the bank, Leo leapt out, with Terri hurrying after him. Francisco was pressing himself flat against the wall, his face full of fear at Maurizio’s expression. “You’re right to be afraid,” Maurizio told him savagely. “It was you who killed my brother.”

  “You’re mad,” Francisco said in a choked voice. Maurizio’s hands were around his throat.

  “Yes,” Maurizio agreed. “Mad with the madness of the vendetta.”

  Terri felt herself paralyzed. She wanted to cry out to Maurizio to stop but something silenced her. She could only watch as the terrible drama was played out to the finale.

  Then something happened to Maurizio. He seemed to become aware of her and in the same moment the murder died out of his eyes. “No,” he said slowly. “Vendetta is not the way.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a little mild vendetta,” Leo observed, oblivious to the seething undercurrents. “I didn’t like the way he was treating my sister. How about another sock on the jaw?”

  But Maurizio shook his head
and put his hand out to restrain Leo. “Scum like that isn’t worth the effort,” he said. “Leave him to bring his punishment on himself.”

  His eyes met Terri’s, then he turned and his gaze rested on Leo. He closed his eyes and his lips moved in a silent prayer of gratitude.

  “Maurizio,” Leo said, puzzled, “what the devil—”

  “Go,” Maurizio told him in a shaking voice. “Go to your sister.” He turned away and went to lean on the bridge rail, staring into the water.

  Francisco was propping himself up against a wall in a paroxysm of coughing. As he realized he was safe from Maurizio he turned contemptuous eyes on his wife. “Your daughter?” he echoed. “Are you mad?”

  Elena faced him proudly. She’d removed her mask and Terri felt they were all seeing this woman for the first time. “Not now, Francisco. I’ve been mad all these years, but no more.” She touched Leo on the shoulder and took Terri’s hand in hers. “This is my son and this is my daughter, born when I was a silly child who didn’t know what mattered and what didn’t. God forgive me, but I gave them away and sold myself to you, but I’ve paid for that mistake. There hasn’t been a moment since then when my heart hasn’t broken for the loss of my children. I pray that one day they may find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

  He hardly seemed to hear her. “Your children,” he echoed. “Children. Born before our marriage.” His voice rose to a scream. “You’ve admitted it before witnesses. For this I can annul our marriage and throw you out. You’ll have nothing, do you hear? Nothing.”

  Elena regarded him, flanked by her son and daughter. “You must do as you please. I have all I want.”

  *

  “Leo, Leo, I can’t believe it.” Laughing and crying, Terri held her brother in a tight embrace. She drew back to look at his face, then hugged him again. He did the same, weeping as freely as she.

  He touched the pendant around her neck. “It was that,” he said huskily. “When I saw it, I suspected who you were. But I wasn’t sure until—” his eyes met Elena’s “—until our mother acknowledged you.”

  They were back in the Palazzo Calvani where Leo had stripped off his wet clothes and donned a towel robe. Terri had gladly discarded her white satin dress for sweater and pants. Perhaps Francisco was also somewhere changing out of his sodden attire, but nobody knew or cared. He’d slunk away quickly.

  Elena had hurried her two children home, followed by Maurizio, who seemed content to remain in the shadows. Now Terri realized that they’d been joined by someone else, someone who’d remained hidden until the last minute, then followed them home and slipped in behind them. Terri regarded her, puzzled. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” she asked. “Wait—yes, that night—”

  “My name is Damiata,” the young woman said defiantly. “You came to the apartments.”

  “I showed my picture of Leo and your neighbor said she’d seen him talking with you. But you denied it.”

  “I didn’t know why you were looking for him. You might have wanted to do harm to my Leo.”

  The way she said “my Leo” made Terri look at her with new interest. “He was with you all the time, wasn’t he?” she said.

  “I found him wandering about Venice,” Damiata said. “He didn’t know who he was or why he was here. I took him home. It was meant to be just for a couple of nights until he felt better. But then I discovered I didn’t want him to go.”

  Leo reached out and took Damiata’s hand in his. “She thought I was on the run from the law,” he said. “But she never gave me up.” He drew her more closely to him. “And now I’ll never give her up.”

  He turned back to his sister. “My memory came and went. I knew I had an important reason for being in Venice, but that was all.” He looked at Elena who was regarding him with a little smile. “Something drew me here. I felt sure I knew someone who lived in this building, but I couldn’t remember who. I hoped that it would come back to me when I was here, but it never did.”

  “So you kept slipping away,” Terri said. “It was you the other night, holding the lion, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was me. When you looked down at me from the window, I was sure I knew you, but I couldn’t remember. I didn’t know you were my sister until tonight.” He went over to Elena and looked at her.

  “You are my son,” she whispered. “In my heart I knew it from the first, but I was afraid to speak. But I’m not afraid anymore. My children were lost and are found, and I have nothing more to fear.” She burst into sobs and flung her arms around Leo. He hugged her in return, burying his face against her shining hair. Then they both reached out to draw Terri into the circle, and for a moment the three of them stood locked together in total happiness. Damiata watched them, her face forlorn. Maurizio, standing back, also watched, his face unreadable in the shadows.

  “When you were born, I held you both in my arms for just a little time,” Elena said through her tears. “Then I gave you away—oh, how could I do it?—and my heart broke. I thought the pain of losing you would cease but it never did. Every year I have kept your birthday in tears. But now—now—”

  Then Leo held out his hand to Damiata. Instantly, Elena did the same. “Now I shall have two daughters,” she said through her tears. “Oh, my children, my children…”

  Terri held her mother against her in a wave of happiness such as she’d never thought to know. Here at last was a mother she could love. Her brother, too, was restored to her, and the barrier that had kept her from Maurizio was down at last.

  “Maurizio,” she said, drawing away from the charmed circle. “Maurizio…”

  “He’s gone,” Damiata said. “He was watching you as if everything else in the world had ceased to exist for him. But when you didn’t look up, he went quietly away.”

  “Oh, no. I must get him back.” Terri hurried across the hall and pulled open the big front door. The night was silent but for the faint cries of revelers in the distance. She began to run, calling Maurizio’s name as she’d once called Leo’s, but there was no reply.

  In the distance a baùtta fluttered around the corner, but when she chased after him there was nothing to be seen.

  *

  The darkness was just beginning to lift as Terri drove a motorboat cautiously across to Murano. At the Midas she’d found Maurizio already gone, nobody knew where. Bruno, strolling home in the small hours with a Columbine on his arm had regarded her gravely and said, “There’s a place where I know Maurizio goes when he’s troubled. But I’ve never been there. He never takes anybody to his sanctuary.”

  “He’s taken me,” Terri said proudly.

  “In that case he’s probably waiting for you.” Bruno kissed her. “Good luck, cara, for his sake more than yours. A nature like yours will always find love, but you’re Maurizio’s last chance.” He wandered away unsteadily, holding on to Columbine as they climbed the stairs.

  Now as Terri neared her destination, she was full of fear. Suddenly, it seemed as if the love she’d thought she shared with Maurizio had been only in her imagination. He’d been tortured by guilt about Leo, but now that her brother was all right, Maurizio had discovered that there was nothing else between them. He’d escaped her to avoid embarrassment. Then she would remember Damiata saying, “He was watching you as if everything else in the world had ceased to exist for him.”

  Which was the truth? She would have no peace until she knew.

  As she grew nearer, she could see a light on in the shabby little house of gold, and the next moment Maurizio had come out to catch her line and tie it up. He assisted her onto the bank but released her hand at once and kept his distance.

  “I guessed you’d be here,” she told him.

  “I was afraid you would.”

  “Afraid? Why are you avoiding me, Maurizio?”

  “Isn’t it obvious why? We both discovered the truth last night. What else is there to say?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I came here to find out.” She hesitated. Mauri
zio’s silence and uneasiness was making it hard for her. “I had to speak to you because I’m leaving the palazzo today. We both are.”

  “Both?”

  “Elena and I. Francisco’s been on the phone to his lawyer but he needn’t have bothered. Now she’s made her mind up, Elena can’t wait to get out. She and Leo are full of plans to go into business together, designing jewelry. She’s like a new woman.”

  They went into Maurizio’s kitchen and he started making coffee. “I’m glad it’s all ended well for you,” he said without looking at her.

  “Has it ended well, Maurizio? Tell me.”

  “You’ve got Leo back. Your mother has acknowledged you. That was what you wanted. You can be happy now.”

  “Maurizio, do you know how I knew you’d be here?”

  He looked at her. “Because I told you it was my refuge?”

  “Partly that. But also because it’s February 28th. I read that date on Rufio’s tomb. It’s exactly one year ago today that he died, isn’t it?”

  His face softened. “Fancy your remembering such a thing.”

  “I knew you’d come here to think about him, and I couldn’t bear to think of you being alone. The rest of us have got what we want. But you can never have Rufio back.”

  “How like you to think of that,” he said quietly. “You were always generous, more generous than I deserve. Perhaps even generous enough to let me delude myself—but I don’t want that kind of delusion.”

  “Delude yourself about what?” she demanded, her heart beating hard.

  “You shouldn’t have come here, Teresa. I know the truth. As long as Leo was lost, our need made a kind of emotional dependency for us. We were enemies but no one else understood what we were going through and we could reach out to each other. But now—”

  “Now?” she asked, breathless with hope.

  “Now I can’t hide behind that anymore. I have to look clearly at myself, and what I see I don’t like. I see a man who thought he could play God with people’s lives, and who ended up nearly killing Leo and destroying you. I see the pride and arrogance that blinded him to everything but himself. I, too, am going away.”