Wedding in Venice

Chapter Fourteen

"Nothing but me?" Justine asked lightly. "I hope you gave some thought to the food as well."

Riccardo didn't answer at first, but turned her to look at him.

"It's no good," he said at last. "You can't make a joke of it. That won't solve the problem. And somehow we have to find a way to solve it."

"So you admit it's a problem?"

"Of course it's a problem when a man has fallen in love with a woman, and she -"

"Don't you dare say that I'm in love with you," she spit out.

"How can I? I don't know, any more than you do. I only know that you're fighting it – fighting me. And you're angry with me. Can't you tell me why?"

"You know why," she murmured. "I don't want to feel what I'm feeling. I've got my life in such good order, and you're threatening everything."

"No, I'm only threatening the bolts and bars with which you try to imprison yourself."

"You think I want to be locked in there?"

"Partly, yes. Prison can be a very comforting place. You know where everything is. But I won't let you cling to it. When the wedding is over, I shall be back, knocking on the door."

"And you're so sure that I'll open it for you?"

"No, I'm not sure at all. I'm never sure with you. Perhaps that's why it has to be you and no other."

The sound of voices from inside the building drew them back to reality.

"I must go," he said reluctantly. "But I'll be back."

He would have turned away, but Justine detained him with her hands on his shoulders, just long enough to kiss him gently.

"Yes," she said. "You must come back."

The next day saw the first wedding, that of the count and Liza, a small, private occasion that took place in a side chapel of St. Mark's Basilica. The day after, it was Dulcie and Guido's turn.

No city in the world staged a wedding like Venice. It was normal for a bride to go to the church in a gondola, but Guido sometimes amused himself by being a part-time gondolier, and many of his friends had turned out for the occasion. At least twenty gondolas escorted Dulcie down the Grand Canal from the Rialto Bridge to the landing stage at St. Mark's.

Justine took pictures to her heart's content, traveling just ahead of the convoy in a motorboat. Landing first, she was able to witness Dulcie's arrival at the great church.

When the bride and groom emerged from the basilica together Justine took her final pictures and raced for the motorboat, to be whisked back to the palazzo and start frantically downloading. When she'd finished, she joined the reception for her final shots, which she took between mouthfuls of wedding cake.

At last the tables were cleared away for the dancing to begin. Dulcie and Guido took the floor, to applause. Gradually the other guests joined them, until everyone seemed to be dancing, except Justine.

The music was sweet and sensuous, disturbing her vaguely. Nobody should listen to music like that without dancing to it.

"You look tired," said a sympathetic voice at her shoulder.

She turned and saw Riccardo holding out a glass of champagne to her. She drained it thankfully.

"Hey, Riccardo" came Guido's cheerful voice as he danced past with his bride in his arms. "Your duties are finished. From now on you're our guest.

Riccardo smiled and nodded, taking Justine's hand.

"Dance with me," he said.

As if in a dream she circled the floor with him, feeling the movement of his legs, the closeness of his body to hers, and knowing that she had been waiting for this all day.

She had expected him to talk, trying to dazzle her with words again, but instead he looked at her tenderly, in silence, until she could sense that he was caught in the same dream.

Then there was a small commotion. Marco and Harriet were dancing together, absorbed in each other as she hadn't seen them before.

Justine remembered Dulcie's prediction that they were more in love than they thought, and reckoned it might be true. Everyone else thought so, too, because suddenly they were crowding around them, demanding that they set the date for their own wedding.

Justine didn't stay to hear what happened. Riccardo had clasped her hand and was drawing her out into the garden.