Venice

by Lynne Connolly

  I could see the smile lurking in his eyes. “A wine merchant, who travels around the countryside, and locates the best vintages? Perhaps, my love. But it would leave Gervase rather exposed, wouldn’t it?”

  “Perhaps he should take a turn.” I smiled at the thought. “He would make a very good earl, in the course of time, and if he made the effort, I’ll wager he could even manage to make an heir.”

  Richard frowned. “I fear it’s too late for that.”

  “You know he proposed to me once?” I said impulsively.

  “What!” I had all his attention now, the lovely scene in front of us forgotten. “Gervase? Why should he do that?”

  “It was while you were still contracted to marry Miss Cartwright. He thought if he married me, you could fulfil your obligations, and still have me. You had said you wouldn’t consummate the marriage with her, even if she forced you to the contract, so if I produced a child by you, it would still be the heir your father wants. Don’t be angry with him. He said he owed you a lot, and perhaps he could help.”

  “Dear God!” Richard exclaimed, nearly speechless for once. He leaned on the wall with his elbows, chin in his hands, brooding. I watched the Canal for a while, to give him a chance to assimilate what I had just told him. Eventually he looked at me again. “You know I would never have allowed it?”

  “I know it now.”

  “I’ve always wanted you for my wife, so I could share my life with you, not just my bed,” he said, not touching me, but leaning on the balcony, as I was doing. “Even if your bed was available to me, it wouldn’t have been all I wanted. A little bit of scandal would have been a small price to pay to have you to myself. I only wanted to spare you the opprobrium of society. Did you ever take his proposal seriously?”

  “He offered it to me as an alternative, in case it became impossible for us to marry,” I said. “He didn’t want to see you lose me, you see.”

  He turned then, and looked at me. “I had plans for us to elope. You knew that, but you didn’t know how far I went with the plan before it became irrelevant. I used it to get us here, to Venice. I never told you that, did I?”

  “I would have gone with you, if you’d only offered me a carte blanche.” I took his hand. “It was kind of Gervase, but I don’t think I would have gone through with it, though I wanted you so much that I might have done it just to be close to you.”

  His intimate smile warmed me somewhere deep inside. “Too late now I fear. You’re mine now, signed and sealed.”

  “So I am.” He drew me into his arms and tenderly kissed me, heedless of anyone who might be looking.

  “I wouldn’t have made Julia a very good husband,” he said then, his arm comfortably about my shoulders. “I hope Steven Drury suits her better.”

  I was surprised. “You don’t wish her any ill?”

  “No. I wronged her after all, by trying to break the contract between us. However if the Drurys are behind the attempt on your life, yes, I wish her ill. I saw Drury at his worst, I’m guessing, when I’d taken you from him, but his behaviour then does not give me a good impression of him. Tell me, in a more temperate mood, in your opinion, could Drury have agreed to this?”

  I considered it, frowning until he kissed it away for me. “I think so. He hated me enough at the end. He wanted me for the small dowry I had at the time and the social standing, not for anything of me. At first, I was the most desperate and the most eligible of the young ladies available but when James inherited the title, that made him more determined to have me. I thought he might have been happy with Julia, a member of society and much richer than I will ever be, but now I’m not so sure. Perhaps together they’re worse than they would be apart.” I was idly watching one of the boatmen, while he struggled to free his pole from the edge of the Canal, where it had stuck fast. Somehow, it seemed far more real than the thought of Steven and Julia plotting together.

  “It’s what I’ve been afraid of,” Richard admitted. “That together they might be more dangerous than apart. I placed Thompson’s men in their household, I had them put there when they returned from their elopement, but I don’t know what they did while they were away.”

  They could have planned our assassination then and made the arrangements. No, I still couldn’t believe it. I still thought the Cawntons were behind the attack.

  The gondolier finally freed himself and poled away, intent on his business. The Drurys seemed so far away now. “Couldn’t someone else have done it?”

  “Any number of people might try, but to do it like that, on our wedding day, looks to me like revenge of the most personal kind. I’m sure the Cawntons weren’t so very distraught about the way matters turned out for them. They lost one big haul, but regained control of their organisation when Norrice Terry died. We parted on as good terms as you can in such circumstances but there might have been someone in their organisation who supported Norrice Terry enough to look for revenge for his death.”

  “Not his wife and daughter?”

  “Not if he abused them like he abused you. No one, save the most perverted, would want that.” His sombre expression made me sorry we had ever broached the subject.

  “But I’m here, and well, and happy,” I reminded him.

  He lifted his head from his contemplation of the Canal and looked at me, and his expression lightened, became something else. “So you are,” he agreed, and took me indoors again.

  THE FOLLOWING DAY CARIER returned to the apartment with news. Nichols had served us during the last few days, and Richard had contrived to shave himself, although he complained it took him twice as long as it took Carier to do it. We’d still not dressed properly, luxuriating in the freedom from society’s rules, the lack of visitors, and our pleasure in each other. But Richard had insisted on a proper dinner that day. He claimed he needed the nourishment, and that I would wear him out, so it was served to us in the dining room for the first time, although I doubted we would have time to dress properly.

  Nichols brought word to us in the middle of the afternoon, where we sat by the window in our bedroom with a pot of coffee, supremely at our ease. She told us Carier had returned with news, and waited for us in the drawing room, so we went straightaway.

  Carier studied us curiously when we went in, but his expressions were always hard to read. I hadn’t even known if he approved of me until Richard told me he did. We sat together on the sofa I first used when I’d arrived.

  “Carier?” Richard prompted him.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve discovered something, my lord. I thought I’d tell you as soon as I heard it.”

  Richard nodded. “About the false Strangs or the disturbances at home?”

  “The false Strangs, my lord. We’ve heard nothing from England yet.” He drew out a sheet of paper from his pocket and consulted it. “It was easy to place some of our people in his household. They seem determined to make a splash, and they’re recruiting everywhere. When they called themselves Ravens, it seems to have been the truth. I had the good fortune to find someone who recognised them from a previous time, and who could give me some very useful information—with a little persuasion.” I wondered if the persuasion was pleasant or the opposite, and decided I would rather not know. Carier continued. “They use the name Ravens frequently, and for all we know it is their true name. They’re card sharpers, my lord.”

  Richard grimaced in distaste. “That’s all? Common card sharpers?”

  “Yes, my lord, although they prefer to operate on the grand scale.”

  “But I don’t play cards above the social level, everybody knows that. Why choose my—our name?” He glanced at me apologetically and we exchanged a smile.

  “They know you’re away on your bride-trip, my lord, and you could be anywhere, since you seem to have given society the slip.” Carier gave just the hint of a smile. “They’re careful to avoid anyone who knows you—”

  Richard leaned forward, interrupting him. “Who is in Venice who knows us, Carier?”<
br />
  “Freddy, my lord, and one or two others who know you slightly, but I’ve been unable to locate anyone else,” the valet replied.

  Richard pulled a face. “Oh Lord, I think we’d better try to see Freddy and apprise him of the situation, just in case he goes to visit the false Strangs.”

  “Just so, my lord. No one here knows her ladyship,” he continued smoothly.

  I smiled wryly. “I’m not surprised, but the Ravens don’t seem to know me either.”

  “I would be inclined to agree, my lady,” Carier said. “The gentleman tries for a passable imitation of your lordship, but the lady seems to have very little to go on. She is a brunette, and she rarely powders, but those seem to be the only connections she has with your ladyship.”

  “So they’ve seen me, but not my wife,” Richard mused. Warmth curled through me when he used the word wife. “Well that wouldn’t be difficult. Where are they living?”

  Carier turned his well-used piece of paper over. “In the Palazzo Barbarossa, further down the Canal towards the Lagoon, my lord. They are making a splash, spending money lavishly.”

  “Is it theirs? Or have they run up bills for me to pay?” asked Richard then.

  “I have dealt with that aspect, my lord,” replied the manservant smoothly. “They are finding credit hard to come by when they try to use your name.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. When I spend money, I like to get the benefit of it.” Richard leaned back, relieved of that care.

  Carier bowed. “I have made extensive enquiries and I’m almost completely sure they had nothing to do with the attacks on your lives in England.” I sighed in relief, and I felt Richard take my hand and press it. “They were elsewhere when the attempts took place and they haven’t enough money, or indeed the desire to do such a thing.”

  Richard’s expression lightened. “So they’re simple tricksters?”

  “I have every reason to believe so, my lord,” said his valet.

  Richard looked up. “In that case,” he said, his eyes glittering with mischief, “I should very much like to meet these people. Should you like to visit them, my love?”

  I could see no harm in it. “I would like you to meet them. If I hadn’t been so anxious on the road, I might have found some amusement in it.”

  “Do you think it would amuse me?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  Richard never relied on his consequence for the sake of it, and I thought he would enjoy meeting “himself,” and perhaps derive some fun from it. After all, we could call a halt at any time, merely by announcing our identities.

  Richard glanced at me, and then at Carier. “And I want the Ravens watched closely. The assassin may yet arrive.”

  “Doesn’t he know us by sight?”

  Richard shrugged, the blue dressing gown catching the light of the sunlight streaming through the window. “I don’t know. What do you think, Carier?”

  Carier spoke slowly. “The assassin may not know you by sight, my lord, in fact I am beginning to doubt that he does. Killing a man and wife on their wedding day doesn’t imply personal knowledge. Nor does planting gunpowder on their yacht. Here, you are Mr. and Mrs. Locke and I believe you are safe while that remains the case.”

  Richard looked at me, his eyes clouded with concern. “I don’t want my wife put at any risk. What do you think?”

  “I think, my lord, we should ensure her ladyship is always accompanied by Nichols. She is the best available, and there wouldn’t be much risk if she gave the matter her full attention.”

  Richard frowned at his valet. “She is good, I know that.”

  I was tired of being talked about. “Don’t I have a say?”

  Richard smiled in agreement. “Of course you should.”

  “I’d like to stay, for now,” I said. “I’d like to see more of Venice, and I’d like to see these impostors with you. If there’s any risk, then naturally I’ll leave, but not alone. Where you are, there I am.”

  He took my hand and kissed it lightly. “Oh yes. I won’t let you go on your own. Not again.”

  “If I may suggest, my lord.”

  Richard waved a negligent hand. “Suggest away.”

  “If you could take her ladyship on a small outing tomorrow, dressed as the Lockes, I could contrive to follow you and have you followed so we might observe anyone who took an interest in you.”

  Richard stroked his chin. “It’s a thought.” He glanced at me. “We could leave Rose here—”

  “No.” I scotched that before it went any further. “I think Carier’s right and if the assassin is here, he doesn’t know us by sight outside our usual milieu. The Ravens certainly did not. There’s no harm in discovering it for sure.”

  Richard nodded and turned to Carier. “Very well. Make the arrangements, if you please. We can achieve little today. We’ll walk down and send in our cards tomorrow, but for now, keep up the vigilance, and try to find Freddy.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Carier bowed and left.

  Richard turned to me, and his tone lowered to an intimate purr. “We have an hour before dinner and I haven’t made love to you for at least four hours. Could you bear it before you dress?”

  “Oh yes,” I breathed. He put his hands under my arms and drew me close.

  THE NEXT MORNING I woke and it felt right, natural. Real. Richard was still asleep, so I moved closer, laid my cheek on his back and slid my arm around his waist. I must have woken him however, because he turned slowly, and put his arms around me. His eyes were still closed, but he was smiling. “Good morning, sweet wife.”

  “Good morning, dearest husband.” I snuggled into his warmth.

  The next time I looked up at his face his eyes were open. “I wonder,” he said slowly, in his rich, low voice, “if I’ll ever get used to this.”

  “I’m not sure I want to.” I tilted my head for his kiss. “After these last few days, I’m more used to being naked with you than I am clothed.”

  He chuckled. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

  I reached down and touched his morning erection. I loved that he woke hard, although he explained it happened to many men, even when alone. I had a lot to learn, but I knew this particular hardness was mine. He laughed and swung me on to my back. “Hussy! What have I done? Perhaps I should have insisted on the traditional wedding night!”

  I walked my fingers over his chest. “Which would be...?”

  “The bride is fully robed in her new, voluminous night rail and cap. Her friends put her into the marital bed and leave her there. She sits and waits tremulously for her new husband.” He closed his eyes and fluttered his eyelashes in imitation of the tremulous bride, but he ignored my laugh. “The groom enters with his friends, who have had a great deal of fun disrobing him and arraying him in his nightwear. They’re all drunk, because it’s the only way the groom can get his courage to come to the sticking point. After all, he hardly knows the girl.”

  He stopped and kissed me. “I needed sustenance. To continue. They pull back the sheets, exposing her shivering with fright. They put him in, to the accompaniment of ribald joke usually only considered appropriate for the dining room after the ladies have retired, but are now considered perfectly all right for the poor, quivering virgin. Then they leave them. She is terrified, he is drunk, and they must make the best they can of it.” He paused, and looked down at me. “In the old days they would wait until the couple had actually consummated the marriage, claiming it was necessary to witness it to prevent annulments. All good sport, I’ve no doubt.”

  “I would pretend,” I said, after I had thought about it.

  “But you’re a virgin. You know how the animals copulate, but you don’t know what humans look like. You probably know what they sound like.” I smiled, thinking back to the house I was brought up in. A small manor house where sounds carried in the night. “But you don’t quite know what to do, and your new husband is so drunk he can’t help you. A fine start to a marriage; no wonder so many fail.”
<
br />   “Do you think ours will fail?”

  “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  “But no one saw us consummate our marriage!” I said, pretending shock.

  “Do you think anyone, seeing us over the last few days could doubt it?” His voice became a caress as he bent his head to kiss me again.

  “No,” I breathed, when I could.

  “No?” He lifted his head to look down at me.

  “No, no one could doubt it.”

  “Oh.” He bent his head to me again.

  “Richard?”

  “Hmmm...?”

  “Aren’t we supposed to get up today?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Can you do that again?”

  “This?”

  “Oh yes!”

  AS A RESULT WE WERE later rising than we had planned, and we breakfasted in our bedroom again. When I went through to my dressing room, I felt almost strange, getting into my day clothes after so long without them. Nichols said little, but went efficiently about her business of turning me into Mrs. Locke.

  I watched her in the mirror. She dressed my hair into a tight knot, then fastened a serviceable cap over it, and laced me into a simple blue gown of good, but not best, silk. No elaborate embroidery for Mrs. Locke, a simple row of silk bows covered her stomacher, the robings of the gown edged with braid. Even her stockings were plain. I thought I might like Mrs. Locke, had she existed, but another part of me admitted I liked the finery Lady Strang was now expected to wear.

  When I went into the drawing room, I had to wait for Richard to arrive, and when he did, a harassed-looking Carier followed close behind him. “My lord, you can’t wear that lace. Mr. Locke would never have lace that fine.”

  “But I have to have something,” my husband protested, “You seem to think Mr. Locke has no pride at all in his appearance.”

  “Some people do not, my lord,” Carier protested.

  “He must have some idiosyncrasy.”

  I pulled something out of my pocket, something I had forgotten over the last few days. “What about this?” I held out the diamond pin he had given me in England.