“Where are you going?”
“None of your business. Leave me alone.” She switched her phone off and flung it on the floor of the car. To her relief, the traffic began to move, and she gave all her concentration to her driving. One accident a day was enough…no, make that two, because meeting up with Alessandro di Benedetto could be a far worse catastrophe than a broken reversing light.
Chapter Two
When Amy finally reached home, her mother told her she had a flight for five thirty from Heathrow, which just gave Amy time to pack.
“I’ll drive you to the airport so you don’t need a taxi. You’re very pale and stressed... Are you all right?”
“Yes and no. Apart from feeling so sad about Maria, I had a terrible shock today; I backed into another car and it belonged to Alessandro.”
Her mother sat down abruptly and stared at her. “Oh, how very unfortunate.”
“Putting it mildly. What’s worse, before I knew who my victim was, I left my mobile phone number on his car, so now he will keep calling me and he knows where I work.”
“Well, at least you will be away for two weeks and you can turn your phone off now.”
“Yes. Where’s James?”
“Relax,” her mother soothed her. “He’s next door, playing with Beth. I decided not to tell him you’re taking him away; he would have got over-excited. Amy, what did you feel, seeing Alessandro again?”
“Nothing, Mama. Absolutely nothing,” Amy lied.
“I don’t believe you. Be careful, cherie.”
Amy and James stepped out of the plane at Marco Polo airport into late evening sunshine. She dragged their cases to where the vaporetti bobbed in the choppy water, their owners chatting over cappuccinos at the quayside bar. She was about to buy a ticket when a voice behind her inquired, “Signorina Amy Hamilton?”
Startled, she turned, almost into the arms of a man who towered over her.
“Si, Signor,” she said, stepping back from him and looking up at a ruggedly handsome, vaguely familiar face. Brown eyes twinkled flirtatiously down at her, and a generous and very sexy mouth widened to a broad and infectious smile.
“Maria asked that I meet you with the boat and bring you to the villa. It’s over here.” He indicated a launch a few yards away.
He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “Wait a minute…who are you?” she asked in Italian, standing her ground and hanging onto her case as he tried to take it from her.
James craned his neck to stare at the man and was rewarded with a salute and a handshake, which made the child laugh aloud.
“You don’t recognize me, Amy? Well, I recognized you, even after so long. I’m Gabriel, Maria’s nephew.”
For a second, she stared at him in astonishment, remembering the little boy she had played with on visits to Venice with her parents: a little boy who turned into a lanky teenager, who had taunted her unmercifully when she was fifteen and with whom she had had many a quarrel. “Gabriel? Yes, yes, of course I remember you. You were horrid to me, and I think I still owe you a ducking in the pond at the villa.”
With a smile, she held out her hand, which he took and raised to his lips. Amy was amused at his gallantry.
“And who is this young man?” he asked.
“My son, James.”
“Hello, James. Welcome to Venice.”
“I’m nearly five,” replied James in perfect Italian.
“So grown up. I shall take you fishing; would you like that?”
“Really? Oh, yes, please. Is that your boat?” he asked, brown eyes wide with excitement.
“Yes. Come along. I’ll lift you in.” With an easy movement, he placed the small boy safely in the boat and turned to help Amy, who, with a smile, stepped into the small launch unaided. As he lifted in her heavy case, the boat rocked alarmingly, and he steadied her by holding her round the waist, lowering her into a seat, his hands lingering a second longer than was necessary.
“Thank you,” she stammered, and he chuckled, started the boat, and turned it towards the marked boat lanes heading for Venice. “It was very kind of you to collect me. I could have taken a vaporetto to the Lido.”
“No problem.” He turned and studied her frankly.
Irritated, she flushed at his scrutiny.
“Do you approve?” she asked frostily, and he turned away, laughing.
“You should be flattered.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“It seems we are destined to fight as much now as we did as children. It will be fun.”
“Gabriel, I came here to spend time with Maria. I don’t want to fight with you or anyone else.”
“So, you are now a housewife?”
“No, I’m an interpreter with a law firm in the City of London.”
“So, who cares for your son? His father?”
“No, my mother.”
“I see.” He fell silent for a moment, and she felt his disapproval.
“I need to make a living for us both,” she said defensively. “James is very well cared for…”
“And he will be here in Venice. This will be a new life for you both.”
It was a statement, rather than a question, and she was puzzled. “I’m only here for a visit. Two weeks. Only two weeks.”
“I see…obviously nobody told you…well, never mind. I presume you don’t have a lover in England, someone to go back to?”
“No,” she snapped, “and anyway, that’s none of your—”
“Was his father an Englishman? He has an English name, but the boy looks more Italian than I do.”
“Will you mind your own business? He’s named after a Scottish great-grandfather,” she retorted, thinking how little that irritating teenager had changed in the fourteen years since she had last seen him.
“I apologize.” He steered the boat towards the glorious city, sitting like a jewel in the Adriatic. The setting sun turned the water to fire with the Doges Palace and bell tower, a floating apparition, shimmering before them.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is,” Amy murmured. “Look, James…” But the little boy had fallen asleep, his head on her lap.
“He‘s a fine boy, and already he speaks Italian.”
“And French. You may remember that my mother is French, and she’s with him during the day. My father was half Italian, so I speak to him in English and Italian at home.”
The little boat picked up speed and headed for her godmother’s house on the Lido, the long narrow island separating the Venetian lagoon from the Adriatic Sea. Twenty minutes later, they veered out of the boat lane into a little canal, passing under some low bridges, and Gabriel moored the boat outside Maria’s villa. He helped Amy, carrying the sleeping James, up a flight of steps onto the road and brought their case from the boat.
She stood gazing up at the large villa, saddened to see the almost derelict state of it. The garden was overgrown and the paintwork peeling. Clearly, the elderly lady she remembered as a robust and feisty person, so full of life, was in decline.
Gabriel came to stand beside her. “I wanted her to move somewhere smaller, where she could be looked after, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Neither will she consent to an army of servants running around after her. There’s only Carmela and Antonio, who are quite elderly themselves. They live here and shop, cook, and tidy for her, but the house is in a sad state.”
The front door opened, and with a cry of welcome, Carmela beckoned them in.
“Signorina Amy, come in…I’m so glad you are here…Oh, what a beautiful boy.”
“I’m so happy to see you too, Carmela.” Amy hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks.
“You have grown into a beauty.” The elderly lady smiled. “So like your dear mother, the same curly dark hair, blue eyes, and yes, a very similar mouth.”
She could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her mouth, and when she glanced sharply at him, he ran a tongue round his own lips and smiled, his eyes narrowing. She knew what he was thinking a
nd glowered at him. Italian men, she thought, were born with a whole section of brain dedicated to bottom pinching and the seduction of any woman under fifty. No, more like sixty. And Gabriel was, without doubt, a past master, with his good looks and easy smile. I bet there’s a different girl in his bed every night, she thought contemptuously. Well, he’s not having me!
Amy followed Carmela into the salon, where the remaining light filtered through a grimy window and fell on her godmother, seated in her wheelchair with hands outstretched. “My dear, dear, girl! Let me look at you…Oh, your mother…so like your mother. How lovely. Come and sit beside me…Gabriel, will you take her case upstairs please—it’s too much for Antonio—and Carmela, please can you make us coffee…or tea. Amy, would you prefer tea?”
“Tea would be perfect, please.” Amy stooped to kiss Maria’s papery cheek. Clearly, her godmother was still in charge of her life—and everyone else’s.
James opened his eyes, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and regarded Maria from the security of his mother’s lap.
“He’s so handsome, Amy. Those dark eyes and that huge dimple in his chin. He’ll be a heartbreaker when he is older.”
Exactly like his father.
“I am glad you were able to come, and I hope you will stay. I want to spend some time with you and your child before I move beyond the veil…and I’ve plans I’ll tell you about tomorrow when you are rested. Tell me, what do you think of Gabriel?”
“Charming, good-looking, and I expect we shall fight just as much as we did as children.” Amy smiled fondly at her godmother’s none-too-subtle attempt at matchmaking.
“Good. So you will have fun. He is a kind man—take no notice of his flirting. He has a good heart.”
“He hasn’t married?”
“No. In spite of his eye for the ladies—and there have been a number.” The old lady chuckled. “He’s a soft old romantic at heart, and he’s waiting for someone special.”
They talked for a while about Amy’s life in England, but soon, the elderly lady began to tire. “I need my bed, child. If you will push my wheelchair to the foot of the stairs, I can get into the stair lift and manage into my bedroom. Carmela will come and help me.”
As the bedroom door closed on Maria, Gabriel joined Amy at the top of the stairs. “This is where you’re sleeping,” he said, opening another door. A large double bed took center stage of the room, overlooking the canal. “James has a bed in the dressing room through there…and over here is your bathroom. “
“And you? Do you live here?”
“Me? No, I live in an apartment on the island. I’m an art and antique dealer and I travel a lot around Europe. But tonight, I shall stay here. Maria keeps a room for me because I sometimes sleep over if she is particularly unwell.”
“That ‘s kind. How long has she got? Have the doctors told you?” she asked sadly.
“Not long. She is not in pain, fortunately, but she gets weaker each day and it’s only a matter of time before she is completely bedridden.”
“It’s very cruel.”
“She doesn’t see it that way. She has her faith and no fear of dying. Now, why don’t you put James to bed? Carmela will take care of him while I take you to dinner.”
Amy suddenly realized she was starving. James had eaten everything put in front of him on the plane, but she had been too stressed to have more than a cup of coffee, her mind continually flipping back to her encounter with Alessandro. She became very still and thoughtful as she contemplated her problem until Gabriel gently touched her shoulder.
“Amy, did you hear me? Would you like dinner?”
“Yes, thank you, I would—very much.”
After a quick shower and change of clothes, she tucked up James with his beloved Teddy and watched as he almost instantly fell into a deep sleep.
If only I could sleep like that, she thought, remembering the endless nights she had worked until two or three in the morning in her small study at home and how she had then been mentally too active to sleep until dawn.
Gabriel had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. “We’ll go to the pizzeria near the vaporetto station. It’s cheap and cheerful, but I’m sure you are not in the mood for a cordon bleu meal tonight.”
She was grateful for his thoughtfulness. “Perfect. I’ll let Carmela know we are leaving.”
Walking along beside the lagoon with the moon rising above the distant towers of the Doges Palace and the Bell Tower across the water, Amy began to relax. The air was balmy, and her tense shoulders relaxed. She was glad to be away from London and the unsettling presence of Alessandro di Benedetto.
“Tell me about him,” Gabriel said, and she turned to him and pulled a face.
“Gabriel, there’s nothing to tell.”
“Then why are you so sad…and sighing so sorrowfully? Okay, I know, none of my business.”
They ate at a candle-lit table outside the restaurant, and Gabriel regarded her intently for a moment. “You’re truly very lovely Amy. You were a thin, spotty teenager, but even then, you had good bones.”
“And you were a horrible tease; you knew how self-conscious I was at fifteen. I didn’t like you at all.”
“I hope we can be friends now. There are difficult days ahead, so please put the past aside and see me as someone you can depend on. I will flirt shamelessly with you, and if you should fall in love with me, as I could so easily with you…well, who knows, that might be wonderful. But first, we should be friends. What do you say?”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she touched his hand across the table. “Thank you, I appreciate that. Can we go now? I can hardly stay awake.”
For the first time in weeks, Amy slept for more than eight hours. The next morning, rubbing sleep from her eyes, she pulled back the curtains to let in the sunshine and wandered into the dressing room to find James’s bed empty. She could hear him chattering to Antonio in the garden, so reassured, she went downstairs in search of breakfast.
The house appeared even more dilapidated in the morning light. The old wallpaper was ochre-colored with age and as a result of the forty-a-day habit Maria had been unable to break, in spite of her illness. The threadbare stair carpet and dusty, old-fashioned furniture depressed her. This house had always been full of light and laughter.
Carmela was in the large, airy kitchen, the windows and shutters thrown open to let in the early morning breeze.
“Antonio and James have been to buy croissants. Sit here and eat while I make some coffee for everyone.”
“Has Maria had breakfast?” she inquired, smiling up at Gabriel as he came into the room.
“She can no longer eat solid food, so she survives on a milky protein drink. You can go in to see her soon.” The elderly woman bustled round the kitchen and called Antonio and James in from the garden to eat.
“Maria wants to see you this morning, Amy. She has things to say which won’t wait any longer.” Gabriel drank his coffee standing by the window, shoulders drooping sadly.
“You’ll miss her.”
“I will,” he said. “You go and talk to her while I take James to the park for half an hour. Would you like that, James?”
“Yes, please! Can we take a football?”
“There’s a toy shop on the way; I’ll buy you one. Come on. Who’s your favorite team?”
The small boy slithered down from his chair and grabbed Gabriel’s hand. Amy watched them chatting animatedly as they went through the garden gate.
She knew how much James missed having a father and hoped in the two weeks they would be in Venice, he would not become too attached to Gabriel.
Clearly, Maria had been right when she called him a kind man, thought Amy, wishing she could give her heart to someone as uncomplicated as Gabriel.
Amy knocked gently and went into Maria’s bedroom. Her godmother, propped up by several pillows, looked tired, her skin pale and waxy.
“My dear girl, come and sit beside me and take this envelope.” Her breathing rasped in h
er chest, and she had to wait a moment before she could speak again. “It gives you details of who my lawyer is, and he will advise you what must be done when I’ve gone. You can trust him completely.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Amy, I am leaving you the villa and the bulk of my fortune. There are bequests for Carmela and Antonio of course, which will ensure their comfortable retirement, and a gift for Gabriel. But for you and James, there is security.” She paused and signaled for a glass of water, which Amy, almost numb with shock, helped her to sip. “The house has ten large bedrooms, and I had an architect take a look at it a few years ago. He agreed the villa is perfect for turning into a small hotel. There’s enough money to do the conversion, if that is what you decide, and you can either keep it and run it, or sell it for…well, quite a lot of money.”
“Maria…I am utterly stunned. But…well, why me? I’ve hardly been a model goddaughter, have I?”
“Your father was a treasured friend. No, my dear, not a lover, but he was a brilliant financier who helped me make some investments that prospered wonderfully. If he had failed me, I would have lost everything. He and your mother became very special to me. It was a blow when they left Venice for London when you were a baby, but I was honored to be asked to be your godmother. I promised your father when my time came, I would leave you whatever was left. And actually, there’s rather a lot. I spent very little, as you can see by the state of the villa. So really, you see, this is a legacy from your father.” Maria paused for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “And you mustn’t feel badly about Gabriel; he has more money than he can spend already and a successful business. You could do a great deal worse than marry him, Amy. I would smile down on such a match from my place in Heaven.”
“Maria…please, give me a minute to absorb all this,” she gasped. “Does Gabriel know your plans?”
“He does. He’s known for the past year and has promised he will help you over the next few months. Now, in return, I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to tell me the name of James’s father. I shall take it to the grave with me, but curiosity has been eating away at my soul.”
Venetian Masquerade Page 2
