Venice

by Lynne Connolly

  Richard smiled sweetly. “Less dangerous to us. When he’s angry and desperate he won’t behave like a professional and we have much more of a chance of taking him off his guard. What I want to do is disarm him and talk to him. I don’t want him so much as the people he’s working for. I might be able to buy him off, much more preferable to any other way, don’t you think?”

  We would all agree with that.

  Chapter Twenty

  THIS WAS NOW SERIOUS, far more serious than the light-hearted adventure we had gone into. Talking it over with Richard later, when we were alone, he pointed out it would have to be faced sooner or later. “I haven’t given up persuading you to go away somewhere safe.”

  “Give it up,” I advised him. “I’m not leaving you. Besides, you need Mrs. Locke to stop him suspicioning anything and withdrawing. Then we’d only have to face him somewhere else, another time.”

  He tilted my chin so he could look me directly in the eyes. “You have a great heart, my love. I’m only just beginning to realise what this marriage will to mean to me. You won’t let me do things on my own, will you?”

  “No. You can become the kind of autocratic husband so many are, but if you do that, something we have will die.” We regarded each other and eventually he nodded briefly. “I want to help you,” I continued. “Has anyone else ever seen what killing another person does to you?”

  “Carier,” he admitted.

  “But you can’t turn to him for support and love, can you? I can at least be here for you always, to help you when you need it, but if I don’t know what you’ve done, how can I sympathise completely, help you the way I want to?” I knew I was right, but it would be very difficult for him, so long on his own, to depend on anyone else. It would have to come gradually, but I was determined upon it. We let the matter drop there, although I knew he would try again sometime in the future.

  WHEN I NEXT DRESSED as Mrs. Locke, the situation was altogether more serious. I wore two large, double-sewn pockets into which I put the pistols Richard had given me for the journey to Venice, both loaded. Wearing both of them balanced out the weight and made the load more comfortable. As Mrs. Locke, I would wear a substantial hooped skirt, unlike the smaller side hoops I usually used and the guns were well hidden but easily accessible. I also slipped one of Richard’s wicked little knives into one of my garters, for extra protection. Then I dressed.

  Freddy and Signor Verdi were already at the palazzo when we arrived. We had informed the Signor of the change of plan and given him the opportunity to withdraw, but he chose to accept the hefty bonus Richard was offering, together with the risk. I was glad to see him.

  We played piquet again and I tried to concentrate on the matter in hand. The Ravens were good actors, they didn’t once betray the revelations of the previous day and accepted our calling them “my lord” and “my lady” with as much equanimity as they had previously done. There was no hand pressing, no knowing nodding, nothing.

  The Squires were already there, seemingly keen to continue with their run of good luck. They were allowed to win at first. The rest of us played nondescript, mostly ordinary hands, although when I played Richard, he dealt me outrageously good hands. I came out of that partie many guineas to the good. I meant to make him make good his debt, just to teach him not to tease me. He watched my face closely when I picked up my cards, but after a small gasp the first time, I realised what he was doing and positively refused to respond again. Freddy was equally gallant, but not with quite the abandon Richard had shown, dealing me far more believable hands that would beat his, but only if I played well.

  When I played with Mrs. Squires, she seemed perfectly at ease, conversing with me about the places she had seen and how much she enjoyed Venice. I didn’t know what to make of Mrs. Squires. We knew she must be hired, but we didn’t know how much she knew about Jeffries’ ultimate goal, or what her instructions were. I didn’t think she was cheating tonight and thinking back, I didn’t think she had cheated in the past, but she never took unnecessary risks and seemed only to be playing because she had been paid to undertake the part.

  Squires-Jeffries, on the other hand, played with total concentration, total involvement. The handful of pasteboard held his life for the few minutes it took to complete it and then he couldn’t wait to pick up the next hand. He did his best to conceal his passion, but like most devoted card players from the youngest, freshest convert to the oldest matron in the assembly rooms of England, he had that look of abandonment in his eyes, the gleam of fanaticism that betokened obsession, the look about him that he would play all night and not notice the time. I couldn’t be afraid of him while he was so unaware of his partner. He tried some gallantry on me, but I behaved with far more propriety before, although I hoped not enough to give him any cause to suspect me.

  He beat me, but not by much, so I was in debt by thirty guineas to him when he rose to move on. All the time I played with him, I had been aware of Richard’s close regard, as he sat across from me playing Mrs. Ravens. She kept up a playful flirtation with him, the sort he could respond to in his sleep, so he could watch me without too much distraction, but not be observed to be watching.

  I knew Jeffries wouldn’t try anything here, he would prefer to do the job cleanly and get away. If he could gain access to our apartment, he would kill us both and leave us there, while he got away. If there were not too many servants, he could kill them too and give himself several clear days, but that would not be possible unless he obtained our direction. He knew who we were, but not, it was to be hoped, of our involvement in Thompson’s, or the special nature of most of our attendants here. He tried to get the information out of me, but I was cagey, as I would be expected to be.

  “Such a lovely lady deserves to be seen more about the fashionable resorts in Venice,” was his opening gambit.

  “Lord and Lady Strang were kind enough to offer us a seat in their box at the Opera,” I replied. “We had a most enjoyable evening and we were even called across to greet Lady Thurl and her son.” Jeffries glanced at Freddy, blithely engaged in a partie with Richard. “My husband’s customers, you know,” I continued. Jeffries smiled grimly. I babbled on. “Indeed it was very kind of them, since we are hardly of their world—”

  “I think,” he said, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice, “you would fit in to that world very well, my dear. You must permit my wife and me to take you out one day. Have you seen the shops at the Rialto?” I admitted that I had. “Then, have you been to St. Mark’s Square?”

  He knew I had. “I have seen it, yes, sir, but I haven’t yet seen all the beauties there. We—ran out of time.” I hope he took my hesitation as an accidental slip. I couldn’t be seen to be too clever.

  His smile would have melted butter. “We are planning a small reception next week, I wonder if your husband and you would be available? I can promise you the guests will be quite unexceptionable, beyond reproach.”

  My blood ran cold. I had never thought that he might try to entice us to his lodgings. That would be even better for him. I murmured I must consult with my husband, which I did as soon as we broke for supper. I could see the news had not surprised Richard. He accepted the invitation without hesitation. “But you must be prepared for a last minute refusal, sir. My wife is frequently ill and I don’t like to leave her when she is indisposed.”

  Jeffries looked disappointed. “It would be a great shame.”

  “You must come to dinner,” I said impulsively and received a quelling look from Mr. Locke in return. “But we cannot offer you anything grand.”

  “I’m sure anything you offer must be of the most charming,” Jeffries said, heavily hinting at a none-too-subtle double entendre.

  I simpered. “If you give us your direction, we’ll make sure you’re invited to the very next dinner party we hold,” Richard said, thus converting a definite invitation to a more nebulous one. Jeffries smiled unctuously and gave us his card. Richard made a great show of feeling in his poc
kets for his card-case, only to realise he had left it at home. He promised to send one as we retook our places at the tables. We had his address.

  This time Squires’ luck changed. Ravens suggested we increase the stakes, to which everyone agreed and from then he could win nothing. His face and hands became sweatier as the evening progressed, the cards dealt him varied from fair to poor, but he didn’t win another partie, except from me, because I was the only one not cheating at all. Richard’s skills had developed enough for him to attempt the shuffle, so he could ensure a good win on his own deal and Freddy, Mr. Ravens and Signor Verdi positively sparkled. It seemed Jeffries’ skills in cheating were but modest, basic ones, having not had the benefit of the tuition of an expert.

  At the end of the evening, Jeffries was a fleeced lamb, a skinned coney, a target hit. He gave us several notes of hand, promising he had a small enterprise in hand that would pay off handsomely in a day or two, when he would return to repay his debts. We presumed the enterprise was Richard’s death.

  After Jeffries left, Ravens found a bottle of wine and we solemnly toasted our success. “He’s desperate,” Ravens told us. “I’ve seen it before. He needs to play and he needs to pay off his debts so he can do so. I have an appointment to see him in the morning, when I shall refuse him any more credit.”

  “Don’t go alone, and give him our direction. Here.” He pulled the missing card-case from his pocket and gave him one of Mr. Locke’s cards. “Perhaps you’d like to leave that lying around.”

  Mr. Ravens took it, looking at it thoughtfully. “Thank you, my lord, I will allow him to persuade me to give it up.”

  “After you have done that,” Richard told him, “you would be well advised to leave the palazzo immediately. Your landlords are now aware you’re impostors and Jeffries might well come back.”

  “We have already packed,” Ravens assured him.

  We left shortly after that and went to our lodgings, but not before Richard had given Signor Verdi his thanks and a banker’s draft to pay for his considerable services.

  When we got home, I asked Richard if he was planning to put the Ravens in the box. “What, thoroughgoing villains like them? I should say so! And they have a streak of snobbery that will serve to keep them loyal. I could find work for them.”

  “They mean no harm,” I said and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, only financially.”

  “They did try to blackmail us, my love.”

  “I think they would have dealt fairly. They would have returned our notes of hand, I’m sure of it.”

  “A kind heart.” He took me into his arms. “And a true one.”

  We were in the bedroom by then, so he began to undress me, letting my gown slide to the floor. “The last time we shall see Mrs. Locke. You can appear as your own beautiful self from now on,”

  I laughed at him. “Richard, please! You know I’m not beautiful.”

  He’d bent his head to kiss my neck in the place he knew had most effect, but he stopped at that and looked at me, his arms loosely about my waist. “You are and you will be to the rest of the world. Everyone will say you are and so it will be accepted. Besides,” he added, his eyes gleaming brilliantly, “my taste is known to be impeccable, so you must be beautiful, mustn’t you?”

  We laughed, but his laughter stopped abruptly when he undid the tapes to my pockets and they fell to the floor with a decided clunk. He swooped down on them and investigated, finding the loaded pistols. He gave a low whistle. “Did you think we’d have to shoot our way out?” He weighed one of them in his hand.

  “I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.”

  He pulled back the hammer, enabling the trigger to drop and sighted down the barrel. “Would you have been able to use them?”

  I nodded and took the other one from him. “I’m a country girl, my lord. I was taught to shoot in my childhood. James is inordinately fond of field sports, so we were always involved in those kind of activities.”

  “So you can shoot. I’m not sure I would have liked to have known you were armed tonight.”

  I frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you weren’t armed!”

  “That’s different.”

  “How so?” I wasn’t best pleased by his assumption the guns wouldn’t have been much use in my hands. I was considered a very fair shot at home. “Come here.”

  I seized his hand and pulled him out to the corridor, going down to the front entrance and turning to face the blank wall at the end. This was the longest range we had in this small apartment so I supposed it would have to do. “Is that an outer wall?”

  “I think so.” Amusement crept into his voice.

  I lifted my piece and sighted along it. “You see that picture? Watch the ship in the middle.” The picture in question was a seascape, a ship in full sail on the ocean, not a very large one. All the better for my purposes.

  I fired without hesitation and the corridor exploded in fire and smoke. As I lifted my weapon, he had lifted its partner and fired at the same place. Two simultaneous explosions, creating an immense sound in such an enclosed space, made my ears ring.

  The sound brought me to my senses. I clapped my hand to my mouth and dropped the pistol, appalled by what I had just done. All at once, the doors opened and people erupted into the corridor. Carier and Nichols, both wielding pistols of their own, Gervase, confused by the noise, but with his hand in his dressing gown pocket, no doubt in search of his own weapon. Richard was now helpless with laughter, so he was no support. There I stood, in stays and petticoat, my hands to my mouth in horror.

  Eventually Richard straightened up. “There’s nothing to worry about.” He laughed again and stopped long enough to say, “Her ladyship was merely showing me how well she can shoot.” Then he was off again.

  After an incredulous stare, Nichols went away, about her duties. Carier said, “The building will have been roused, my lord,” in censorious tones and went away to deal with it.

  Gervase looked at both of us in astonished amusement. “Well, we might as well see how you’ve done.” He went up to the end of the hall.

  As the smoke cleared, Richard’s laughter began to subside and we could see again. “You’ve both gone straight through the picture,” Gervase called down to us “Right through the centre, there’s no ship left any more. You’ll have to redecorate this wall.”

  “We’ll just hang another picture over it for now,” Richard said.

  We went up to view the damage.

  I was still appalled by what I had done. We looked at the black, shattered holes we had made in silence for a few moments. “All right, so you can shoot,” Richard said eventually to me. “But I reserve the right to challenge you to a target shoot when we get home,”

  “Accepted,” I said straightaway. We shook hands on it.

  Richard studied the ruined picture again. “I’m rather pleased you can shoot. It makes me easier in my mind about your staying here. Meantime, my lady.” He turned to me, making me acutely aware of my appearance. “I can’t think your esteemed sister-in-law would think it at all proper for you to appear in public like this. I would urge you to spare my poor brother’s blushes at once and come to bed.”

  I coloured up and lifted my hand to my breast in confusion, which only served to draw attention to my lack of covering. Richard watched me, amused, but Gervase took pity on me. He took my other hand and kissed it lightly. “It’s just as well I don’t notice such things then.” He looked only at my face, something few other men would have done in the circumstances, then nodded to Richard and went back to his own room, leaving us alone in the corridor in front of the shattered remains of the picture.

  In a splendidly courtly gesture, Richard offered me his arm. “Shall we?” He led me back into our room, just as if we were entering a ballroom. Once there however, not on the best of terms with him for laughing so much, I insisted on cleaning and reloading both the pistols.

  I brought the case into the bedroom from the dressing roo
m and sat by the cold fireplace. I used the table we had used to breakfast from so much in the last week or two. He lay on the bed in his shirtsleeves, his chin propped up on his hand, watching me.

  I glanced up at him. “We might need these in the morning.”

  He sat up and opened the drawer in the nightstand. “Or these.” He brought out another pair of pistols, larger than mine but equally ready for use.

  I realised the ridiculousness of the situation, as he had meant me to. I laughed and forgave him, but I carried on with my task, determined to be ready for our would-be assassin. Richard replaced his guns in the drawer and I finished my task while he watched me. “I have rarely seen anything more erotic.”

  “What?” I looked up from my task, startled.

  “You. Half-naked, cleaning that gun. You’re so absorbed in what you’re doing you’re not aware of how you look.”

  I put down the last flintlock. “And how do I look?”

  “Delicious.” He climbed off the bed and came over to demonstrate

  WE GOT UP EARLY THE next day and breakfasted with Gervase on the broad balcony outside the apartment, Carier in grim attendance. He had warned against our doing so, for fear of being seen, but the weather was becoming much hotter now and the cool breezes outside were preferable to the heat gathering indoors.

  “We should move on soon,” Richard said. “If we travel north we can avoid the heat.”

  Gervase picked up his coffee cup. “I’m going south. I can’t come this close without going back to Rome. You know my house in Rome, don’t you Richard?”

  “A positive palace compared to this,” Richard commented.

  “You’re most welcome if you want to come. It will be hot, but not as unhealthy.”

  Richard leaned back, the breeze ruffling his short hair. “Should you like to do that, sweetheart? We can go to France, make our way home slowly, or spend a month or two here, in Italy. If we’re careful, that may give us more time to ourselves, without the need to enter society more than we wish to. If we go to France we may be drawn into Versailles.”