The Venetian Playboy’s Bride

CHAPTER TEN

GUIDO had prevented Roscoe taking Jenny away, thus buying the lovers some time, but the strain of the ensuing days nearly turned Dulcie’s hair white.

He moved into the suite, taking over the second bedroom so that Jenny and Dulcie had to share the first. He spent his time exploring the city, dragging his daughter along, and proud to bursting point of having Lady Dulcie as his guide.

He demanded a full account of her dinner at the palazzo, with diversions regarding the social niceties to be observed at a count’s residence.

‘Just because I’m a self-made man it doesn’t follow that I’m an ignoramus,’ he declared belligerently. ‘And I don’t want any mistakes in that direction.’

Dulcie assured him that nobody could possibly make any mistakes.

Guido telephoned her once, explaining coolly that the best masquerade outfits were to be found at a shop in the Calle Morento. She should take Jenny there and make sure she chose a Columbine costume.

‘Shouldn’t that be me?’ she asked wryly.

‘On no account. They have a wide choice and I’m sure you’ll find something suitable, but definitely not Columbine. But please tell Jenny that if all goes well she’ll be with Fede from then on.’

‘You’re planning for them to run away that night?’

‘I’m planning a little more than that, but everything has to be done just right.’

‘Do I have any part to play?’

‘Yes, and I’m sure you’ll play it superbly when the time comes.’

But you don’t trust me enough to tell me now, she thought.

‘A lot depends on your following my instructions exactly,’ Guido continued. ‘Put yourself in the assistant’s hands, she knows your requirements.’

‘I suppose you have a connection with the shop?’

‘I own it,’ he said with some surprise.

‘Of course.’

That was her only contact with him. There wasn’t another word, and she was too proud to seek him out again. Although he wanted her to stay, he hadn’t relented. She would be useful in his plan to help Jenny and Fede. That was all.

It was hard to believe that the magical web that had been spun between them during those few precious days could have been wrecked so easily: harder still to realise that the gentle jester who’d nursed and protected her was also the austere man who judged her harshly.

And unreasonably, she reminded herself. Her deception might have been greater than his, but he could have sorted it all out in a moment. Instead he’d let her mistake pass because-because of what? Something he couldn’t bear to tell her. She might guess, but it was better not to, because then the ache of ‘might-have-been’ started all over again.

She’d thought that Simon had left her unhappy, but now she could see that misery in proportion. He’d been a skunk all the time and she was well rid of him. She’d known that even while she suffered. But Guido was different. She’d fallen deeply in love with him during those few precious days alone, and now that he’d changed towards her she couldn’t dismiss it as a lucky escape. He was the one. Unlikely as it seemed there had been truth between them, concealed, perhaps, by masks, but he himself had said, ‘when people’s faces are hidden they are free to become their true selves.’

If only things had been different, how they could have enjoyed discovering their own and each other’s true selves. It could have been the work of a lifetime.

Now there was nothing, and a fearful blank facing her. She couldn’t persuade this man because she didn’t know him. And the new Guido, curt, withdrawn, unreachable, was an alarming man.

As he wanted she took Jenny to the hire shop. Roscoe insisted on accompanying them, and chose a lavishly bejewelled Henry VIII costume for himself. Dulcie beat off his efforts to dress her as Anne Boleyn, but then he insisted on Cleopatra, which she felt was almost as bad.

Jenny went through this in a dream, following Guido’s instructions as relayed by Dulcie, but without conviction. With her father’s arrival her confidence seemed to have drained away. Despite her brave words about being of age and pleasing herself she reacted to Roscoe like a rabbit trapped in headlamps. Sometimes she managed to telephone Fede, but the conversations were always hurried affairs and she usually had to hang up quickly.

‘Stand up to your father,’ Dulcie insisted one evening. ‘Tell him you’re going to marry Fede and that’s it. Or just walk out.’

‘You make it sound so easy,’ Jenny sighed.

‘It is easy.’

‘It would be for you. You’re not afraid of anyone or anything.’

I’m afraid of my future, Dulcie thought. It’s looking bleak and lonely right now.

‘Dulcie, what am I going to do? You say Guido’s going to make everything right, but how? If it doesn’t work, Dad’s going to haul me off home. I can’t see Fede, I can only call him for a minute at a time. Dad watches me like a hawk.’

‘Write Fede a letter,’ Dulcie said at once. ‘I’ll take it to him.’

‘You’d do that for me? Oh, thank you.’

‘Write it now. Will Fede be rowing tonight?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jenny said, scribbling hurriedly. ‘But I’ll give you his family’s address.’

In a couple of minutes the letter was being sealed in an envelope, and Dulcie was hurrying out, hoping to avoid Roscoe, but failing.

‘Where are you going?’ he boomed. ‘It’s time to go out to dinner.’

‘I’ll join you later. I’ve got something to do first.’

‘Don’t be late.’

She had to consult a map to find the tiny Calle Marcello, well away from the tourist haunts. Darkness was falling, lights blazed from the grocery shops that were still open, and from the rooms overhead.

She found the little alley and almost walked past no: 36. The door was dark and easy to miss. She hesitated before knocking, suddenly shy. From inside she could hear sounds of movement, cheerful voices, laughter. She knocked.

The door was opened by Guido.

For a moment they stared at each other. Dulcie found no softening in his face, only a dismay as great as her own.

‘I came to see Fede,’ she said at last. ‘Is he here?’

‘Sure,’ he said briefly, and stood aside for her to pass.

‘Who’s that?’ came a hearty female voice from deep in the house.

The next moment its owner came into view. She was large, middle-aged and had a ruddy, smiling face, flushed from cooking.

‘Ciao!’ she boomed.

‘This lady is English, Maria,’ Guido said. ‘She wants to see Fede.’

‘Aha! You know my son?’

‘A little,’ Dulcie said hastily. ‘I have a letter for him, from Jenny.’

Maria screamed with delight. ‘You are a good friend. I am Maria Lucci.’

‘I’m Dulcie,’ she gasped, swallowed up in the woman’s embrace.

‘Si. I know. Lady Dulcie.’

‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘Just Dulcie.’

Maria bawled, ‘Fede!’ and urged Dulcie towards an inner door. ‘You go through there. We just start eating. You eat with us.’

‘Oh, no, I don’t want to intrude,’ she said hastily. It was unnerving to have Guido standing there in silence. ‘I’ll just give him the letter and go.’

‘No, no, you eat with us,’ Maria insisted. She stomped away, bawling something in dialect that Dulcie guessed was a demand for an extra chair.

‘You have to stay,’ Guido said quietly. ‘When a Venetian family asks you into their home it’s an honour. We’re not like the English who just go through the forms.’

‘But you don’t want me to stay, do you?’ she challenged.

‘That means nothing. This isn’t my home.’

‘No, you never honoured me with an invitation to your home.’

‘But I did. I took you to my real home, the home of my heart. There I thought I began to know your heart, which only proves what a fool I am.’

Dulcie was in despair. Where was the man she’d found so easy to love? Vanished, replaced by someone with a steely core. But he must always have been there, beneath the bright surface. It had taken herself to bring him out.

Fede appeared in a rush. ‘Mama says you have a message for me.’

Dulcie gave it to him. He read it in a blaze of joy, and kissed the paper. Then he kissed Dulcie.

‘Grazie, grazie, carissima Dulcie.’ He glanced quickly at Guido, ‘I kiss her like a brother-you don’t mind-’

‘Not a bit,’ Guido said with a grin that would have fooled anyone but Dulcie. Now she was alive to his every nuance, and knew that his charming manners were one of the masks with which he protected himself.

‘Come and eat,’ Maria yelled from down the passage.

‘I can’t,’ Dulcie protested.

‘Maria will be hurt if you don’t,’ he said.

‘But Mr Harrison wants me back-’

It was the wrong thing to say. Guido’s mouth twisted in a mirthless grin.

‘The man with money snaps his fingers and you go running. Yes sir, no sir, shall I break another life for you today, sir?’

‘I haven’t broken any lives.’

‘How would you know?’ he flashed in a voice that startled her with its bitterness, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of real pain beneath his anger. She gazed at him in the dim light, shocked to realise just how much she had hurt him. A broken life? This rich playboy who pleased himself? What could possibly touch him?

‘Guido-’

She reached out her hand and in another moment she would have touched him, but then Maria yelled from the garden and he called back, ‘She’s just coming.’

His hand was on Dulcie’s arm, gentle but insistent, and again she had the sensation of steel. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.

The way out led to a small garden with two long tables in the centre, decorated with flowers. It was dusk, and small glasses containing candles were laid along the tables, so that on each side the faces of the Lucci clan glowed. Dulcie tried to keep up as she was introduced to Poppa, his two brothers, his three elder sons, his daughter, her husband, and various children. By that time she’d lost track.

To her embarrassment she was greeted as a heroine by everyone: Fede’s friend, doing all she could to bring him together with Jenny. Since there was no way of explaining what had really happened she was forced to endure it in silence.

Fede was sitting at the end of the table. Eagerly he grasped Dulcie’s hand and took her to a seat at right angles to his own. Guido seated himself facing her.

‘Tell me how Jenny is,’ Fede begged. ‘Does she miss me? Is she as unhappy apart as I am?’

She told him as much as she could, stressing how much Jenny loved him.

‘Grazie,’ he said fervently. ‘While we have friends like you and Guido I know there is still hope.’

‘Be careful, Fede,’ Guido said sharply. ‘Have you forgotten that Dulcie came here to ruin you?’

‘It wasn’t like that-’ she protested.

‘Of course it wasn’t,’ Fede said at once. ‘You were deluded by the Poppa, and you are our friend now, that’s all that matters.’ He clapped Guido on the shoulders. ‘Forget it.’

‘Not everyone is as generous and forgiving as you, Fede,’ Dulcie said impulsively. ‘Jenny’s very lucky to have such an understanding man.’

‘No, no, it’s I who am lucky.’ Suddenly he clasped her hands. ‘Dulcie, you don’t believe that I’m a fortune hunter, do you?’

‘Of course I don’t,’ she said warmly, clasping his hands back and smiling into his face with as much reassurance as she could. ‘I know everything’s going to work out for you, because when two people really love each other, it has to. It can’t just end. It can’t.’

She wondered if Guido was listening, and hearing the message she was trying to send him. Glancing up, she saw him watching her from across the table, but the glow from the candles masked his eyes.

There seemed an endless line of dishes; pasta, followed by fish, followed by veal, followed by sweet cakes. Dulcie ate heartily, which won the approval of everyone there, even Guido.

‘Will you tell Jenny that I shall be waiting for her tomorrow night?’ Fede begged.

‘Are you going to be at the ball?’ she asked.

‘Not officially,’ Guido said. ‘But he’ll be there.’

‘Guido has promised to make all well, with your help,’ Fede said. ‘By this time tomorrow all our problems will be over.’

He bounced up out of his seat and went to help his mother at the far end.

‘What mad promises have you made?’ Dulcie said to Guido across the table.

He slid round into Fede’s seat. ‘Not mad promises at all. What I say I do, I’ll do.’

‘You’ve filled those two up with false hopes, but remember, Harlequin isn’t as clever as he thinks. He’ll overreach himself and fall flat on his face.’

‘Not with Columbine’s help. She always picks him up and remembers the things he’s forgotten.’

‘Don’t count on Jenny.’

‘I didn’t mean Jenny.’

‘But I’m going to be Cleopatra, didn’t your shop assistant tell you?’

‘Yes. A good choice. Very eye catching. Roscoe will never know that it isn’t you in the costume any more.’

‘And what will I be doing?’

‘I’d have thought you could have worked it out by now. You slip away and change into another Columbine costume.’

‘It’s mad,’ she breathed.

‘Just mad enough to work.’

He’d put his head close to hers so that his breath whispered against her face. His eyes glinted. He wasn’t reconciled to her, but her nearness affected him, as his did her. The others at the table had drawn away, smiling at these two lost in their own world.

Guido took her hand in his and looked down at it, while she felt him tremble and sensed the indecision that wracked him. Her heart ached. In a few hours she would have lost him forever unless she could find a way past the barrier he’d put up against her. And something told her that she was no nearer to her goal. He was having a moment of weakness, but he was a stronger and more stubborn man than she would ever have believed.

More of a challenge, she thought, as the gambler’s instinct flared in her. But when he was gone from her life, the desolation would be the greater. She wouldn’t think of that now. There was everything to play for.

Gathering all her courage she leaned forward and laid her mouth on his, feeling his shock, and his fleeting determination to resist her. Another moment and she knew that the gamble had paid off. His mind was telling him to draw back, but he couldn’t do it. She’d taken him by surprise and won the first trick.

‘Stop this,’ he murmured against her lips.

‘You stop it,’ she told him. ‘Tell me you don’t love me.’

‘I don’t-’

‘Liar,’ she said silencing him.

After a long, intense moment she drew back a little, but not far because his hand was behind her head. His eyes, close to hers, were burning with resentment at how easily she could play on him, but still he held her face close to his. Far off she could hear applause as the family enjoyed what was happening. But the two at the end of the table weren’t lovers as everyone thought. There was a deadly duel going on, with no quarter asked or given.

‘Don’t do this, Dulcie.’

‘I will. I don’t think you’ll push me away in front of everyone.’

‘Don’t gamble on that.’

‘You forget I come from gambling stock. I know more about odds than you do.’

‘The odds are all in my favour. You can’t win.’

‘If you love me one tenth as much as you said you did, I can’t lose.’

‘I don’t love you.’

‘I say you do,’ she countered.

‘Is this how it has to be with you? Complete surrender? But you’ve already had that once. Remember that morning I came to the Vittorio and said you were my life, begged you to forgive me for concealing my identity? And all the time you knew the truth, yet you let me burble on.’

‘Because I loved what you were saying,’ she said passionately. ‘Because I loved you. I remember the other things you said, too, about the years we’d spend together. It sounded wonderful.’

‘Sure, it meant you’d done your job well. What satisfaction it must have given you to have me at your feet! Be satisfied with that, without trying to get me there again. Leave your victim a little dignity.’

‘The hell with dignity. Look how I’m risking mine. What am I supposed to do after tomorrow night, Guido? Walk off into the sunset and spend my life in memories of a man too stupid and stubborn to see when a woman’s in love with him? I told you once before, I’m not like that.’

‘What are you like? How am I ever supposed to know?’

‘Why don’t you find out?’

‘And be made a fool of again?’

The words were barely out when his lips were on hers. He wanted to quarrel with her and he wanted to make love to her, and he didn’t know which one he wanted more. Then she would show him, she thought, moving in a little closer, and sensing her victory.

For a moment she thought he would fight her, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He was shaking as he slipped an arm about her shoulders, drawing her close, increasing the pressure of his mouth on hers, kissing the breath out of her. He was furious and bitter and it was all there in the way his lips moved over hers. Yet she sensed that he wasn’t only angry with her, but also with himself for being unable to resist her.

Cries of appreciation went up around them but neither heard. Dulcie’s heart was beating strongly, with love tinged with victory. He was still hers whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Her phone rang.

She said a very unladylike word.

Guido drew back as if shot, breathing hard and looking at her with burning eyes. Dulcie switched the phone off without answering but it was too late, the moment was gone.

‘You shouldn’t do that,’ Guido said. ‘Your employer will be angry.’

‘To blazes with my employer. After tomorrow I’ll enjoy never seeing him again.’

‘Don’t be hard on him. He did me a favour.’

Dulcie was shaking with suppressed passion and frustration at how everything had been snatched away at the last moment. Tears filled her eyes but she forced them back, determined to show no sign of weakness in front of him.

‘I’d better be going,’ she said.

She went round the family, saying her goodbyes and promising Fede that she would tell Jenny how much he loved her. Maria escorted her to the door, and there, to her surprise, she found Guido.

‘I’ll come part of the way with you,’ he said.