“No, I’m not. I love him.”
Benedict stepped forward. “Yes, sir. And I love her with all my heart. As you are aware, I’m a partner in Santi and MacIan. She would want for nothing.”
“Llewellyn, we’ve known each other for many years,” said Emilio.
“That we have. The finest ships in my fleet were built by Santi and MacIan.”
Emilio smiled broadly. “And just imagine the many more that we’ll build for you. You will never again pay what other merchants do for our ships. You will be family. And I can assure you, there is no finer young man in Venice that Benedict MacIan. He will make an excellent husband for Ceres.”
“I can’t thank you both enough for caring for her and returning her to me.”
Benedict became acutely aware of the fact that Llewellyn hadn’t responded to any of the three of them regarding his proposal. “Sir, may I have Ceres’s hand in marriage?”
Llewellyn picked up a bell and ringing it. “MacIan, my daughter has been through quite a bit. I’m not certain decisions of this magnitude should be made at such a time.”
A servant stepped into the room. “You rang, Signore?”
“Yes, Eduardo. This is my daughter Ceres.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Please see that she’s made comfortable in one of the guest rooms.”
Sara jerked her hand away from him. “No. I’m not staying here. I’m marrying Benedict.” She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Benedict.
Benedict put an arm around her. “Sir, please, you haven’t answered my proposal. May we have your blessing to marry?” He intentionally did not ask permission again.
Llewellyn’s eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. Benedict glimpsed the temper that Zina had warned Sara about. “Gentlemen, I would prefer to discuss this privately. I don’t want to upset my daughter.”
“I’m already upset and I’m not leaving,” declared Sara.
“Ceres, my darling—”
“No. Benedict has cared for me these last few weeks. I owe him my life and I love him. You even acknowledge that you are in his debt.”
“I am grateful he helped you when you needed him. And I understand that you believe you are in love with him. I will happily pay him the reward I offered for your safe return. And had it been nearly anyone else, I probably would have given my permission. But make no mistake, I will never allow my daughter to marry a savage Scot. Never. No matter how much it would benefit me. You will go home to England as soon as humanly possible.” He took a stride toward them.
Emilio stepped between them. “You are being foolish, Llewellyn. You will never find a better husband for Ceres.”
“A toad would be a better husband than a Scot,” he roared. Then, addressing his servant he said, “Eduardo, send for the police.”
“Don’t bother,” said Emilio. “We’re leaving. Benedict, Sara, after you.”
Llewellyn lunged at Emilio, throwing him to the ground before turning on Benedict.
Benedict let go of Sara, stepping in front of her to block her from Llewellyn. “Go now, Sara. Run.”
In that moment, with Benedict’s attention directed toward Sara, Llewellyn grabbed a heavy glass vase from a table and swung it at Benedict’s head. He fell to his knees, blacking out when Llewellyn struck him with it again, full force.
~ * ~
Sara looked on with horror as Ceres’s father attacked Mr. Santi. Then Ben shoved her away and told her to run. She did. She couldn’t do anything to prevent what was happening and if Mr. Llewellyn got his hands on her, he could force her to board a ship and have her sailing to England on the next tide. She had to make certain that didn’t happen. A servant tried to grab her as she reached the front door. She broke his grip and practically flew out of the house, running flat out towards the piazza, dodging people on the street. If she could reach the piazza, perhaps she could meld into the perpetual flow of people there.
Then, just before she reached the piazza, without making a conscious decision, she cut down a narrow side street and entered the first shop she came to. It was a lace shop that she had visited once before with Zina. She pretended to examine some lace shawls while making an effort not to appear as winded as she was. The lady running the shop gave her a quizzical look.
Sara fanned herself with her hand. “It’s an exceedingly warm day.”
The matron nodded. “It is indeed. Is there something I can assist you with?”
Come to think of it, a veil or shawl that she could use to conceal herself a bit with wouldn’t go astray. But she carried no money and she was certain Benedict didn’t have an account here. “Well…I…”
A light of recognition showed in the woman’s face and she smiled broadly. “Ah, yes, I remember you now. You work for Signora Peretti. I have her order in the back. I won’t be a minute.”
Holy God, what was she going to do now? She wasn’t here to pick up Zina’s lace goods. Maybe she should just leave before the woman returned. Then it occurred to her that she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t pilot the gondola. She had no money to pay a gondolier and even if she did, Benedict’s house would be the first place Llewellyn might look for her. She knew no one at the shipyard from whom she could seek help and she felt sure Llewellyn would check there as well. The only other place she could go would be the last place he’d think to look—his courtesan’s home. The universe certainly does unfold as it should, Gertrude.
The woman came out of the back room with a paper wrapped bundle. “Here you are. Is there anything else you need?”
“Thank you.” Sara took the bundle from her and glanced down at the shawls again. She picked up a light pinkish-beige shawl made out of a thin cotton lawn and trimmed with wide lace. “Actually, I’d like to add this to the order.” There were several beautiful lace fans displayed on another table. A fan would be nearly as good as a mask at hiding her face. She picked one up. “And this too, please.”
The woman smiled. “I’ll wrap the shawl, but I expect the fan might be a blessing on a day such as this.”
Sara smiled. “Yes. Thank you very much.”
“Are these for you or Signora Peretti?”
“They are for the signora. Can you put them on her account?” Sara knew Zina wouldn’t mind and Ben would pay her back as soon as they were out of this mess.
“Yes, certainly.”
“Thank you.” Sara made a slight bow.
“You’re very welcome.”
Sara stepped out of the shop, continued down the lane to the first alley, and ducked into it. She made her way through to the next little street. She wasn’t sure exactly where she was, but if she could find her way to the Grand Canal, within sight of the Rialto Bridge or even the church of San Silvestri, she could find Zina’s house. She unwrapped the shawl and covered her head and part of her face with it. Then, with Zina’s package in one hand and the fan in the other, she wound her way through the streets and alleys heading generally to the northwest.
After a few wrong turns and dead ends, she reached the Grand Canal just south of the Rialto Bridge, not far from the little alley she had imagined to be time portal a month ago. She breathed a sigh of relief, turned to the left, and walked until she reached the place across the canal from San Silvestri where she and Ben had ended up on Saturday night. From here she knew exactly where to go.
When she arrived at Zina’s house, she knocked at the door to the street entrance. Zina’s butler, Mauricio, seemed surprised to see her there. “Your friend didn’t bring you by gondola?”
Sara indicated the package in her hand. “I had a bit of shopping to do first.”
The man smiled. “Ah yes, I see. The signora is in the drawing room. Follow me.”
Sara hesitated a moment. “Is she alone?”
He frowned. “Yes. I would consult with her first were she not.”
Sara gave a nervous laugh. “Of course, you would. That was silly of me.”
He led her through the house to the drawing room. “Signora Peretti, Mi
ss Wells is here to see you.”
Zina’s eyes went wide for a moment, but she covered her surprise quickly. “Sara, dear, do come in and sit down.”
The butler asked, “Will I bring tea, Signora?”
She nodded, “Yes, thank you, Mauricio.”
He closed the door behind him as he left.
“What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Zina—,” She burst into tears.
Zina rushed to her, gathering Sara in her arms. “Sara, darling, tell me what’s wrong. I’m certain we can fix it.”
Sara swallowed hard and dashed at the tears on her face, trying to regain some control. “We told him.”
“Who? Llewellyn?”
“Yes. Ben and I discussed it for what must have been hours yesterday. As it turns out, while I was here with you, Ben learned that Llewellyn was offering a significant reward for information about me. Signore Santi put all the pieces together and was concerned that others would, too. He believed Llewellyn would understand about the amnesia and ultimately see the advantages of a marriage for me with Ben.”
“And he didn’t?”
“Oh, he believed us about the amnesia, but he refused to allow the marriage. He said he wouldn’t marry me to a ‘savage Scot’ no matter how it benefitted him. He said he probably would have granted permission to anyone else.”
“Sara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize Reese held such a prejudice or I’d have told you. What happened after he refused you?”
“We tried to leave. Signore Santi put himself between Llewellyn and us to give us a chance to get away. But Llewellyn threw him to the floor and went for Ben. Ben told me to run and I did.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you did. If you’d played the fool and tried to save Ben, the chances are extremely good that you would already be on a ship to England.”
“But what do we do now?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “He wouldn’t have killed Ben, would he?”
“Not in his home, by his own hand. He can bribe his way out of a lot of things, but not murder. If he wants Ben dead, he’ll make sure it can’t be connected to him. No, I suspect he’s just had him arrested.”
“On what charges? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Sara, he’s kept you in his home for nearly a month. I suspect Reese would levy the same charges as those against Casanova, an affront to common decency.”
“But we haven’t…that is not until after the ball…”
Zina smiled. “So, in fact you have. But it wouldn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t need Ben convicted. He just needs him imprisoned long enough to find you and get you out of Venice. But don’t worry. He won’t find you.”
“What about Ben and Signore Santi?”
“I will send a servant to learn all he can about them. After we know the lay of the land, we can put a plan together.”
The mention of sending a servant awakened another fear. If one of them spoke to Llewellyn, it might put Zina in danger simply for trying to help. “Zina, maybe it’s better if I just leave. If your servants know who I am, one of them might go to Llewellyn. It could put you in danger.”
Zina shook her head. “My servants are loyal to me.”
“But what about the reward money?”
Zina laughed. “Reese already pays my servants to spy on me. I pay them more not to. I have never done anything of which he would disapprove but that isn’t the point. My business is my own.”
“But five hundred ducats is a huge sum.”
“Sara, stop worrying. If one of my servants was tempted by that money, the seven-hundred and fifty ducats I would pay them to keep quiet would tempt them more. Besides, they know if they broke my confidence, they would never work in a fine Venetian home again.”
Sara nodded, but frowned. She couldn’t help but worry. If all was lost and Ben was killed, she could still say the word and return to her own time. But if she did that, Zina would be the one left to deal with the mess.
Zina cocked her head to one side. “You don’t believe me?”
Before Sara could answer, Mauricio had returned with tea.
Zina smiled. “Let me prove it to you, Sara.” She turned her attention to the butler. “Mauricio, do you know who this is?”
“Miss Sara Wells, Signora.”
“No, I mean do you know who she really is?”
“Well, there has been a bit of speculation, Signora. It appears that she could be Miss Ceres Llewellyn. She first appeared shortly after Miss Llewellyn was lost and she bears a reasonable resemblance to Signore Llewellyn.”
Sara gasped.
Zina laughed. “Well spotted, Mauricio. I didn’t put those two bits of information together immediately. Are you aware of the reward being offered for her return?”
He nodded once. “Most everyone in the household is, Signora.”
“Good. Now, Mauricio, you must recognize Sara is very new here. She doesn’t understand the way of things. Is there any chance that Signore Llewellyn will discover that she is my guest here?”
“Only if the lady herself tells him.”
“Would you mind explaining why that is true to her?”
“Not at all, Signora. Miss Wells, it is simple. We, Signora Peretti and everyone working in her household, are Venetians. Mr. Llewellyn is not. While he comes to town once every few months, we must live here for the rest of our lives. He might offer a huge amount of money for a single piece of information, but once he has it, there is no more income to be had. On the other hand, the Signora is a very benevolent employer. She pays her people generously and is loyal to them. May I offer an example, Signora?”
Zina nodded her consent.
“Miss Wells, the butler who worked for the Signora before me suffered a terrible accident. He fell a great distance and his injuries left him unable to walk—thus unable to work. She still pays him a pension so he can care for his family. So you see, Miss Wells, we know we can absolutely count on her. No amount of Llewellyn’s money is worth losing her trust.”
Sara nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Mauricio.”
“It was my pleasure.” He gave a small bow.
“So, Mauricio,” said Zina, “I need for someone to investigate something for me.” She explained quickly about Signore Santi and Benedict.
“Certainly, Signora. May I suggest that Miss Wells retire to the green bedroom? Signore Llewellyn tends to seek you out when he is not having the best of days.”
“You are absolutely right. I’ll show her there myself.”
Chapter 18
When Benedict awoke, he was certain he’d died and gone to hell. His head throbbed and he lay face down on a wooden floor. The heat of the room was almost unbearable. He rolled to his side and pushed up into a sitting position to look around. The light was dim but he could see that he was in some sort of low-ceilinged cell, perhaps twelve feet square.
“You’ve rejoined the living,” said a voice behind him.
Benedict turned at the sound, causing his head to swim.
“Easy there, man. The ambiance of these stellar accommodations will not be improved by the contents of your stomach.” The man was perhaps older than Benedict by a year or two. He wore only breeches and had a long beard.
“Where are we?”
“The Leads. One of the cells under the lead roof of the Ducal palace. I’m Giacomo Casanova. Who are you?”
This is the infamous libertine, Casanova? “My name is Benedict MacIan.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Benedict MacIan. But I’m still left wondering who you are.”
“I don’t understand. I told you, I’m Benedict MacIan.”
“That’s only your name. Who are you? They only put prisoners from the upper classes in the Leads. I am fairly well acquainted with the Venetian aristocracy and the wealthier members of the merchant class. Your name is familiar, but I can’t place you and I’m certain we’ve never met. Which can only mean if you have money, you don’t spend it on the usual pa
stimes.”
“I am a partner in a shipbuilding company, Santi and MacIan.”
“Ah, yes. That MacIan. So tell me, MacIan, what did you do to wind up here?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes, that’s rather common up here. We’ve all done nothing. So perhaps you’d like to tell me what they think you’ve done.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“Tell me what happened immediately before you were clocked on the head and maybe we can figure it out together.” Casanova’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“I was at Signore Llewellyn’s home.”
“That one has a nasty temper I’ve heard. Did you cheat him—or, that is, did you and he disagree on the quality of your craftsmanship?”
“No. It was nothing like that.” If he was going to tell Casanova the story, he had to stick to what they’d told Llewellyn. “I live on the Lido. About a month ago, I found a girl on the beach.”
“Just sitting by the sea? Do you often find girls on the sands of the Lido? If so, I must consider making a home there.”
Benedict shook his head, a little frustrated. “She wasn’t ‘just sitting there.’ She had nearly drowned. She thought her name was Sara but couldn’t remember anything else, not even how she’d ended up in the water. I took care of her. We fell in love.”
“Of course you did. But how does Llewellyn figure in this?”
“I learned that his daughter had fallen overboard just as her ship approached Venice. Clothing belonging to her was found, but not her body. He believed she was alive. Based on all the evidence, I believed that my Sara was actually Ceres Llewellyn. I took her to him, accompanied by my partner, Emilio Santi. I asked for her hand in marriage.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven. Or perhaps a banker’s office. What could be better for a merchant than to marry his daughter to a well-reputed shipbuilder?”
“That’s what Emilio and I both thought, but Llewellyn refused.”
“Why? Hell, I’d marry you to my daughter, except I don’t have one…that I know of at least.”
“He said he’d never marry her to a savage Scot.”
Nothing to Lose: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 14
