Wedding in Venice

Chapter Two

The boatman's expression and the whole attitude of his athletic body was an invitation to the party of life, and for a moment Justine was stunned. She turned to Dulcie to see if she had noticed the bold boatman, but her friend was busy helping Guido load their bags into the motorboat.

Stop dithering, she told herself. You enjoy a good party.

She pulled herself together and winked back.

His returning smile said, Message received and understood, which irked her slightly. She, herself, wasn't quite sure that she understood.

But she wouldn't be seeing him again, and perhaps that was just as well. He was just a little too sure of himself.

They were almost ready to go. Justine settled herself in the back of the boat and Guido started the motor.

The sudden churning of the water made the barge rock, knocking the stranger off balance and overboard. Immediately he climbed back aboard, pushing the soaking hair back from his eyes, visibly cursing, but unhurt. Justine had a last glimpse of him, covered in water, shining in the sun.

Then she was speeding across the lagoon, looking about her in breathless wonder as Venice came into view.

Suddenly she realized that the barge was overtaking them. At the back stood the man, almost dry now from the effects of the wind, which blew his dark hair straight back from his face.

It was a powerful face, Justine realized, slightly saturnine, yet still with the quality of humor. The chin was stubborn, the nose slightly hooked. Not a conventionally handsome face, but one that would be remembered when pretty boys were forgotten.

He turned his head to give her that marvelous grin again, and she had a strange feeling that he had caught up especially for her.

She mouthed, "Are you all right?" But then remembered that he probably didn't speak English.

But it seemed that he did, for he raised a thumb and nodded.

"È Riccardo," Guido yelled. The man in the barge waved at him, then sped up and passed them.

Justine, who was sitting behind Guido and Dulcie, called, "You know him?"

"Yes, he's -" the rest of the words were drowned out by the noise of the motor.

Then she forgot everything as the boat slowed and they entered Venice, gliding along narrow waterways between ancient buildings in a quiet rhythm unlike the harried tempo of most cities she knew, until they finally reached the Grand Canal. Here was the Palazzo Calvani, where Guido lived with his uncle, Count Calvani.

The count was away until the next day, so Guido entertained them alone. At dinner he was charming company, but he was shooed away when Maria, the dressmaker, arrived late in the evening with Dulcie's wedding gown.

"I came out to Venice for one fitting a few weeks back," Dulcie told Justine, "but this is the moment of truth. Let's go upstairs."

The dress was an extravagant confection in white satin and lace, with a long, wide skirt and floor-length veil. Justine snapped madly with her digital camera as Dulcie turned in front of the mirror.

When the dressmaker had gone, Justine got out her laptop and began downloading the pictures from the camera. Dulcie gasped when she saw them on the screen.

"Tomorrow I want to go outside and take more pictures of you wearing this," Justine said.

The photographer in her was at work now, picturing this gorgeous dress against the canals, the picturesque buildings.

As she worked, she asked casually, "Who was that man who passed us on the water this morning, the one Guido called Riccardo?"

"I've never met him," Dulcie said. "Guido has a lot of boatman friends, so he's probably one of them."

Justine let it go. It would be a mistake to seem too curious.

They set out next morning so that Justine could photograph Dulcie in the lovely dress against the background of Venice. She took picture after picture, exhilarated by the beauty she was capturing.

"Just one more," she said at last as they stopped in a little square by the water. "Stand by that fountain."

She arranged her shot, focused and took a step back, then another, and another.

Totally absorbed, she failed to notice that she was getting closer to the canal. Dulcie's cry of warning came too late, and the next moment Justine was stepping back into nothing, and falling.

She gave a yell of despair as she thought of what the water would do to her precious camera.

But there was no water. Instead she landed on something that felt relatively soft. Sprawled inelegantly on her back, she had a grandstand view of the man she'd seen yesterday, standing over her, regarding her with recognition and delight.

He gave her a mock bow, reaching forward to pull her into a sitting position, and saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."