Venice

by Lynne Connolly

  The state of the room made me laugh when I finally turned to face them. Discarded cards lay everywhere, on the floor where they had fallen from fumbling fingers, thrown carelessly over tables and a large heap of discarded deuces to sixes on one table.

  I stood up and curtseyed when they applauded me and then sat down. “What if it’s not piquet? What if it’s loo, or whist, or something else?”

  “Oh Lord!” said Freddy. “Her ladyship’s right, you know.”

  Signor Verdi clicked his tongue in irritation. “The shuffling method will help in most games. However, the palming should be learnt, if you gentlemen think you would like to try.”

  Richard looked at Freddy, who nodded eagerly. “I’ve finally found something I’m good at. It’s a relief to find out I’m good for something.”

  Richard stretched his arms above his head and flexed his fingers. “Apart from fencing and shooting?”

  Freddy shrugged. “Yes, but I’m not one for duelling, either. I like life too much, I suppose, to want to risk it any more. But I don’t dance with any real distinction, my mind’s not anything above the average and repartee leaves me gasping with admiration but dumb.”

  I laughed, recognising some of those traits in myself. “I can’t do those things either. But I can shoot straight.”

  Richard stood, came over to take my hand and drew me to my feet. “You have a lively mind and a great heart, mia adorata and you play like an angel.” I smiled and bowed my head, accepting his words.

  We didn’t linger over dinner and after I left them alone over their port, they were back very quickly, this time to practise palming cards. They each tried to use the little device and practised losing discarded cards about their persons. Signor Verdi gave them a stern warning. “I would not recommend using this unless you have to. If you are searched and the cards and devices are found on your person, it is proof of cheating and then Ravens will have a real cause for blackmail.”

  This made Richard think hard. He dropped his cards and sat back in the chair, frowning. “You’re right. We can’t use this. It would be playing into his hands.”

  “We may not need any of it,” I pointed out.

  “True,” Richard admitted. “I hope we don’t, but I wanted to know what they did and if they cheated, which they undoubtedly will. We need to draw them in first. Let them gull us. We’ll go on our own, just Rose and me and leave you as our secret weapons. You can come later, when we’re well and truly embroiled in their plot.”

  Freddy looked up with glowing eyes, smiling hugely as he gathered up his cards for another try. “I haven’t had this much fun for a long time. I wouldn’t have missed today’s entertainment for anything.”

  We both smiled as we studied him, an immensely attractive man, glowing with satisfaction. “I think it’s time to call a halt,” Richard said. “We should thank Signor Verdi for a most interesting day and send him home. And you, Freddy, have someone waiting for you.”

  “Good God, I’d forgotten! So that shows you how much I’ve enjoyed myself.” He stood hastily and sent a shower of cards over the floor.

  Signor Verdi rose smoothly and bowed, first to me, then to the gentlemen. “It has been an honour. I shall wait for your word, my lord.” He left the room, closely followed by Freddy, hastening back to his expensive mistress.

  “I wish I could meet her,” I told Richard.

  “Why?”

  “So she can teach me some new tricks?” I laughed at the appalled response in his eyes. “No, no, it’s just I’ve never met someone like her before and I’m curious. Oh, I know she won’t have two heads, or horns or something, but I’ve been almost nowhere before this, seen very little. Will you promise to point her out to me if we see her somewhere, if I promise not to introduce myself?”

  “Very well.” He wasn’t best pleased, but he flashed a sudden smile at me. “Life won’t be simple with you, will it?”

  I shook my head. “I never used to be like this, before I met you. You give me a confidence I didn’t know I had.”

  “I rather suspect it was there all the time. I meant what I said—you have a great heart. Courage is only part of it.”

  I turned away so he shouldn’t see my sudden tears, blinking them back. “Shall I play for you?”

  “Haven’t you played enough? Aren’t you tired?”

  “No.” I sat at the harpsichord and picked up some music, then put it down again. “But you looked tired and you might like it.”

  “If you feel you can,” he replied, “I’d love you to.”

  I played for him while he sat back with his eyes closed, at ease with himself for once.

  Chapter Twelve

  WE GOT UP LATE THE next day and spent the day in déshabillé. I read or played while Richard practised his new skills and one other, which worried me somewhat. He used the new device Signor Verdi had given him and one of his wicked little knives. Eventually he mastered it and time after time he could project the knife into his hand or towards a target without hurting himself. He had to hold his hand back until the razor sharp blade had passed it and grasp the handle as it hurtled past the palm, just at the right moment. After an hour or two he could do it every time. I found it frightening. We might find the skill useful and that meant we would be in danger.

  After dinner we dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Locke to go to the Palazzo Barbarossa. I was using some of the clothes I used to wear habitually as Miss Golightly of Darkwater, Devonshire, clothes I was perfectly happy with when I was Miss Golightly, but I was beginning to be dissatisfied with now. I’d begun to appreciate the qualities of fine clothes, the way they flattered, the way a well-fitted gown felt on the body. Lizzie would never believe it. I had never set store by my appearance before, I had aimed for respectability and conventionality rather than the elegance I wanted to achieve now. Lizzie had always been the one concerned with her appearance before, being the family beauty and I had given up after her come-out. I had thought I was done for on the marriage market and tried to accept my lot with equanimity, without self-pity.

  Now, looking at the plain blue silk gown with its modest robings I could see what was wrong with it. It didn’t fit precisely at the waist, or perhaps my stays were laced tighter these days and the skirt should have been made fuller. The silk wasn’t of the best quality and had been washed too much and not starched enough, so it hung limply where it should have held its folds. I would get rid of the gown as soon as I was done with silly Mrs. Locke. Nichols fixed a lace cap over my severely dressed hair and I was ready.

  I had to wait for Richard in the salon and when he came in, I saw he was as plainly dressed as I was, but with that air he carried that he could never hide. I wondered if he’d been born with that way of carrying himself, the instinct to stand and sit in the most pleasing way, but I said nothing.

  He took both of my hands, smiling. “You look just as you did when I first met you. On the whole, I prefer you as you were yesterday, but needs must, I suppose. How many seasons did you make that gown do for?” He looked me up and down.

  “Three. I had it remade a couple of times, but I couldn’t see the point of throwing good money away on something else. I would rather have spent it on a good riding habit. At least I was happier in those.”

  “And now?”

  I smiled. “Now I’m happier wearing nothing at all.”

  He laughed. “Cutting the ground from under my feet. Come, we’re expected.”

  We went down to the gondola, where Carier and Nichols waited for us and the boatmen poled us away from our plain, unobtrusive building and towards the magnificent Palazzo Barbarossa.

  “I confidently expect us to be richer by the end of the evening,” Richard commented.

  “Yes, my lord,” Carier replied dourly.

  “Have you had the information delivered to the Ravens?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  I turned to Richard, surprised. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m sorry, my sweet, I must have had something else on my min
d.” He smiled briefly at me and I saw his loving expression by the light of the flaring torch on the front of our gondola. I smiled back.

  Carier sighed and brought us both back to reality. “I had some information made available to the Ravens,” Richard said. “The Lockes aren’t as well off as they might at first appear. Free trading has hit the business badly in England and their credit is fully extended, but this is seen as a temporary setback, as Mr. Locke looks to the rest of Europe for his profit.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  Richard took my hand. “Because then he will know we are vulnerable, easily bent to his will and the game will be shorter. We’ve found no trace of an assassin here in Venice and the real reason for all this exercise seems to have evaporated. I don’t think he’s been drawn here and we only wait for word from England before we resume our identities in public.”

  “So I can throw this gown away?”

  He smiled. “Very soon, unless you want to keep it for future use. And you may loosen your hairstyle, wear proper lace and jewellery and go to Aunt Augusta’s reception.”

  We had arrived at the palazzo. Dark was creeping down on us, but all the torches outside the great buildings made it as bright as day. Finely dressed people climbed out of gilded barges at a house next to the one where we were going. The building blazed with light inside and out, sending flaming, flickering shadows over the rippling water and for some strange reason I suddenly felt bereft, left out of something I had a right to. I tried to hide the longing in my expression and I turned away from the light to see his face.

  He frowned, watching the people alighting from the gondolas with narrowed eyes. “We’re not as alone as we thought. Do you see, Carier?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  He turned to me. “I’m known to several of those people. The sooner this game is over the better. But let’s enjoy it while we can.” He stood to help me out of the boat.

  The Palazzo Barbarossa was quieter, but we discovered we were not the only guests. Six other people waited there, all unknown to us, thank goodness, all not of the first rank, all flattered to be invited to such a grand house. There were four other ladies, all British. The Ravens had obviously decided where to target their efforts. I suspected one couple, who seemed to be more at home than the others, of being planted there by the Ravens.

  They greeted us graciously, gave us refreshment and took us into a large, impressive salon where card tables were set out. The salon was too grand for such an intimate gathering but everyone seemed impressed by the white and gold prettiness of the decoration. Richard sat at a table near me and I saw his seemingly negligent disposal of his coat skirts, achieving an effect others might dream of. The movements came so naturally to him he didn’t realise he was doing it.

  I first played a game with one of the suspicious couple, introduced to us as Mr. and Mrs. Squires, from Shropshire.

  “I’m so foolish,” I told Mrs. Squires, “I’m afraid you might have to remind me of the rules from time to time.” She smiled at me in a motherly way.

  Mr. Ravens suggested we play for a shilling a point initially, since this was a friendly game and he sat opposite Richard, smiling affably. Perhaps he found his resources stretched, since we had put a stop to his credit in Venice. He was dressed as finely as ever, but I was sure his jewels were paste. I saw Richard glance at him once and smile slightly and I knew he thought the same.

  I picked up my cards. Mrs. Locke would be a shockingly bad card player. Accordingly I fumbled my hand of twelve and dropped one or two, although I found I didn’t feel nervous at all, now the time had come for our first real outing with these people. I had been dealt a fair hand and proceeded to play it as I should, but with a great deal of hesitation. Mrs. Squires kept score and she waited patiently as I sorted and resorted the cards in my hand into points, sequences and sets. I let a low heart go into the talon that I should really have kept, as hearts were my leading sequence and picked up a club instead. I did score some points from that hand, mainly from three kings but Mrs. Squires had a strong advantage when it came to my deal.

  The hand I dealt seemed to be fair, but I had shuffled the cards thoroughly, as Signor Verdi had taught us to do. I won it, although my margin of victory was not as great as Mrs. Squires’ had been. I would make her work for my triumph.

  From time to time I glanced at Richard, playing as Mr. Locke. He was deliberately trying to suppress his natural instincts to sit elegantly and hold the cards in a certain way, but he forgot to let his finger drop when he drank from his glass. He held it up instead to curl it around the bowl and show off its length and slenderness. I smiled as I looked back down at my cards.

  “You have been married long?” Mrs. Squires enquired, seeing my look and smile.

  I must be more careful. “We’ve been married for five years but I was ill for some of that time and my husband has to travel for his business, so we haven’t been together as much as we might have been.”

  “I’m sorry.” The lady led with an ace. “Are you quite well now?”

  “Yes, thank you.” I gave her a king for the trick. “Venice suits me.”

  “It will get very hot soon,” Mrs. Squires commented. “Venice gets very unhealthy then.”

  “We thought we might go to Paris.” That at least was true.

  Mrs. Squires smiled unpleasantly. “And do you go to Versailles?”

  “Yes,” I said without thinking and had to amend the statement. “At least, my husband has clients there, so I hope to see it when I go there with him.”

  She frowned over her cards before selecting one. “Such a great palace! Such a shame our royal family doesn’t have that sense of style.”

  “Have you been presented, Mrs. Squires?” I suspected not.

  She sighed. “In my youth. But we live quietly these days. The court of St. James’s was not a patch on Versailles.” I wondered if they had fallen on hard times and into the clutches of the Ravens. It seemed likely.

  As the evening progressed and we played more parties, Richard and I slowly began to win more hands and the scores crept up in our favour. I was fascinated to see how cleverly the tide turned, how suddenly I was winning and Richard too. I let my delight show, though not the reason for it and I saw the lady I was playing with visibly relax, as she did her job well.

  The salon seemed so empty, even though the Ravens had hired a quartet to play. They played indifferently, all Italian music, filling the room with thready music, which didn’t cover the conversation. The wins excited some of the other people. I guessed they were not accustomed to their surroundings or their purported company. Or perhaps the wine was strong. I took care over that. I didn’t trust myself to drink too much in case I gave anything away, but most of the others drank freely. Faces grew flushed and voices louder. The guests became garrulous and talked about their lives and their reasons for being in Venice.

  We changed partners after we had reckoned the points and, not to my surprise, I found myself several guineas to the good.

  My new partner was a red-faced English gentleman, the husband of the motherly lady I had just left. He looked every inch a squire, bluff and hearty. He seemed determined to spice up his card game with some crude flirting. I beat him too, and I watched him overcome his chagrin by increasing the flirtation.

  “Your beauty has enlivened this dreary city,” was one of his first comments.

  I was surprised. He must have that the wrong way round, so I ventured a mild, “You don’t approve of Venice, sir?”

  He looked indignant I should even ask. “No indeed!” His voice could have carried across a hunting field. “My wife said she wanted to visit it and I am an indulgent husband, so I accompanied her here.” He paused to sort his cards and then looked up again. “It’s too wet and too gloomy. No horses, either, except stone ones.” I dutifully laughed at his mild joke and he roared for a while, thus obviating the need for any more perceptive comments. He continued, when he had wiped his eyes and recovered some eq
uilibrium. “It’s too expensive. And the churches are Popish, full of statues and finery, not at all like a proper church. Blasphemous, I call it.”

  “They call our ways blasphemous,” I ventured.

  He snorted. “Impudence!”

  We played the hand and then it was his deal. While he shuffled the cards he concentrated on me. At first I was relieved, but then I began to feel uncomfortable, especially as his wife was only at the next table. “Wonderful to see an Englishwoman in this God-forsaken place,” he said, looking at me rather than the cards in his hands. “You exude the fresh air of England, my dear. Whereabouts do you come from?”

  “Dorsetshire,” I didn’t want to mention my real home county. “I live in London with my husband now, when we aren’t travelling.”

  “A beautiful county. And if it produces women as beautiful as you, I regret never having visited it.” He dealt the cards and I could busy myself with my hand. As I picked up my cards my hand brushed his and I knew he’d done it on purpose. His smile seemed more like a leer. “I would very much like to see you again,” he roared and then leaned over the table confidentially. I smelled the wine on his breath. He didn’t lower his voice. “Without your husband.” I was glad my gown wasn’t as low-cut as some I possessed.

  I wasn’t used to this kind of attention but I determined not to let my co-conspirators down. I hoped Squires didn’t come here again, but I feared he might be another mark and so would be present until the game was played out.

  Squires seemed to enjoy my discomfiture and I had to move his hand from mine once or twice when they met on the table. He tried to pay me compliments that I acknowledged with a small smile and I knew by the time we had to move on again he thought he had made a conquest. I won again, but not by so much.