Wedding in Venice

Chapter Four

"Where's the fire?" Riccardo demanded, looking around to see what had agitated Justine.

"Dulcie!" Justine cried. "Look at her! Oh, how can that happen and me not be there?"

Turning to look behind him, Riccardo saw Dulcie standing by the canal in her wedding dress. A sudden breeze had arisen, whisking the long veil high, so that it seemed to stream up to the sky, making a perfect gauze halo about her. Dulcie's face was raised and she was laughing with delight. It would have made a glorious picture. And Justine was missing it.

"Can't you take it from here?" Riccardo asked.

"I am," she said, snapping away madly, "but it won't be the same. I need to get close, but how can I while we're stuck here?"

"Like this," Riccardo said, placing his hands on her waist and hoisting her up.

She had a brief sensation of flying, as though she were no more than a bag of feathers he was tossing. Then she landed and scrambled to her feet, almost in one movement.

"Thank you," she gasped, beginning to run.

"Good luck!" he called, but she was already beyond hearing.

Riccardo watched her, wryly aware that she had completely forgotten him. Only a moment ago the air had seemed to sing with the intensity of something that was starting between them. He had asked her to spend time with him. She had hesitated, but his well-honed instincts told him she was about to fall into his net.

But she had escaped at the last minute through one of those twists of fate that even the best fishers of women could not anticipate.

And she hadn't even glanced back for a last look at him. Faced with a good picture opportunity, she'd wiped him from her existence.

Riccardo wasn't a conceited man, but this was not what he was used to. Honor demanded that he did not leave matters there. They had unfinished business.

As he went on his way, he was smiling.

"I can't believe that happened," Justine wailed as Dulcie's veil floated back down to earth. "That would have been the shot of shots, the big one. Aaaarrrgh!"

"It's not fair," Dulcie agreed sympathetically. "Still, you got some lovely pictures before that."

But Justine couldn't be consoled. As they made their way back to the Palazzo Calvani she was still mourning "the one that got away."

It was Riccardo's fault, of course. If he hadn't kept her talking she would have been back to work in moments.

I hope his vegetables rot, she thought grumpily.

As soon as they reached the palazzo, Dulcie changed out of the wedding dress and settled it on its stand to await the big day. Then she went to Justine's room, and found her downloading the morning's work.

"Guido's gone to collect Uncle Francesco and Liza from the airport," she said. "I'm longing for you to meet them."

"They're getting married the day before you, right?"

"Right. It's such a romantic story. They've been in love for fifty years, but Liza wouldn't marry him because he was a count and she was his housekeeper. After all this time, she's finally agreed. It's so sweet to see how much they love each other. Guido and I are going to be exactly the same when we're old."

Justine gave a brief, wry smile that made Dulcie cry out, "What's that for? I know you pretend not to believe in love, but even you have to agree that it's a beautiful story."

"I do believe in love," Justine said. "Love is real. It's the 'eternal' bit that I can't swallow."

"Fifty years sounds pretty eternal to me."

"Sure, a fifty-year courtship!" Justine chuckled. "I believe in that. But you know as well as I do that it's when people get married that things start to go wrong."

"Let's be glad the rest of the world doesn't know it," Dulcie observed, "or the human race would die out. Three cheers for men and women getting together."

"Ah, getting together. That's different," Justine said, her eyes twinkling. "I believe in that."

"That's them," Dulcie said, at a sound from below.

She vanished. Justine waited, giving her friend time to greet her new family. Just when she was thinking she should go down and be introduced, Dulcie came flying back.

"You could be right," she said, sounding agitated. "Maybe love doesn't last. Uncle Francesco and Liza have had the most terrible quarrel."

"After all this time? What about?"

"I don't know, but from the way they're glaring at each other there's big trouble. Maybe there'll only be one wedding after all."