He sighed, remembering all the little ways in which Caesare Aldanto had helped him. For his own purposes, to be sure. But . . . not always, perhaps. And even if it had all been done for nothing but mercenary reasons, the help itself remained.
Benito had long known that life couldn't be separated into neat blacks and whites. Now, he was discovering that gray is also a much more confusing color than it looks at first glance.
Out of that welter of confusion, one thought came clearly. I want to see Maria.
* * *
The piazza was redolent with the smells of feasting. Not a few of the Arsenalotti had already been dipping deep in the casks of good Veneto red that Petro Dorma had caused to be set among the tables. Benito found laughter, smiles, and winks from pretty girls and even snatches of song amid the laden trestles. What he didn't find was Maria Garavelli. It worried him. He'd been looking for her for quite a while.
The afternoon was rich and golden. Everybody was full of happiness. Everybody except Benito Valdosta, it seemed. And Maria, maybe. He thought there'd been a tear in her eye when she left him earlier. Or maybe . . . he just hoped so.
Only, where the hell had she got to? Ah. A familiar face. "Hey Tonio. You seen Maria?"
The bargee nodded. "Yeah. Saw her heading for the moorings down by the side of the Marciana."
"Thanks!" Benito quickened his pace and walked off towards the moorings beside the library.
* * *
She was sitting on a bollard, staring out across the gently bobbing rows of gondolas and the forests of masts in Bacino San Marco. A lonely figure--sheltered from the noise and laughter of the piazza. Here only the occasional gull shrieked and squabbled overhead.
"So what's wrong now?" He knelt down next to her and put an arm over her shoulder. She shrugged it off.
"I just want to be alone," she snapped. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
She lifted that square jaw. "It's not a Casa Vecchie problem. Now go away."
"What's this Casa Vecchie stuff? I'm Benito!" He stood up and backed away a pace, raising his hands in protest.
She looked him up and down. Benito was acutely aware of his velvet and lace. "It's a poncy outfit," he muttered. "But Dorma insisted."
Maria stood up and turned to face him, hands on her hips, her dark eyes fulminating. "Oh. The next Doge insisted. You poor thing."
Benito flushed, acutely aware that she was slightly taller than he was. "So?"
"I am a canaler, Benito. You, on the other hand. You're behaving like an absolute copy of Caesare, strutting about."
Benito felt that was unfair. All right, so he'd been enjoying the victory. Enjoying the waves and . . . yeah, enjoying the kisses some of the girls had given him. Maybe that was it. "What's wrong with you? Why are you biting my head off?"
"I'm not. I just asked you to leave me alone . . . seeing as you only seem to want to see me when it suits you."
Benito felt his mouth drop open. "Give me a break! I've had to spend time with Marco and my grandfather and Dorma. And there just hasn't been much time. And I've been to see you . . . twice. And you were with Kat. Or out."
"Twice!" said Maria. "Oh, I am sorry. I should have stayed in just in case you came to call. I'm a canaler, Benito Valdosta. I have to work, you know."
Benito took a deep breath. "Well. That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about. I thought--"
What was he thinking, anyway? He'd been wandering around with a vague notion in his head of "making it all work out with Maria."
The thought finally came into clear focus. He was too surprised to keep from blurting out the words.
"Well, then, you and me should get married. Maybe," he added hastily, seeing the storm signals.
There was a long silence.
"I mean . . . you wouldn't have to work or . . . and Dorma and my grandfather said they'd set me up. Um . . . Get some experience in trade. One of the colonies . . ." he trickled off into uncertainty.
"You're proposing to me," she said flatly. "To get me off the canals."
"Well, yes." Benito said awkwardly, flushing. "I thought it would be best."
"I don't."
"But . . . but you'd be rich and comfortable and . . ."
"And a canaler in the Casa Vecchie. No thank you. I won't marry for that reason."
Benito was bright red. "We could go to Corfu. Or Negroponte . . ."
"Oh, excuse me. Where Venice can't see me?" Maria's voice would have cut steel.
"I thought you would want to marry me. You don't have to," said Benito, beginning to get angry himself now.
His anger was nothing to her white-hot sarcasm. "Oh! What a favor the next Doge's brother-in-law's younger brother is doing me! A poor little canal-drab like me should be so delighted at his attentions. Well listen to me, Benito Valdosta . . . Va'funcula." And she turned and walked off to her gondola, leaving Benito still gawping at the obscenity. A few moments later she set off, a lone vessel heading up the Grand Canal into a virtually deserted Venice.
* * *
Benito wandered back. There didn't seem much point in staying here. He was not concentrating on his footsteps--or where he was going. It took severely disturbed concentration to walk into someone the size of Manfred. Benito managed it.
Manfred looked more amused than anything else. "Ah. My crazy young friend from our visit to the Dandelos, and a little assault in court-house! Dressed like a princeling, today, not an urchin, or a Dorma servant. What are you doing walking around with a face like your girlfriend just gave you some really bad news. What's wrong?"
Benito shrugged. "Women," he said trying to sound casual about it.
Manfred laughed. "I know what you mean. My uncle seems too fascinated by Francesca for her to have any time for me either. Can't figure it out. He's not even staring at her cleavage." His shrug was a massive copy of Benito's. "Women, just as you say. Let's go and find some wine. Wine always has time for us. And wine doesn't mind if you have another goblet of wine either."
THE GRAND CANAL ---------------
It came to Maria that someone had been whistling to her for some time. She looked up. Valentina. And Claudia. With a very suspicious-looking bag.
"Maria Garavelli, I wish the Schioppies were as dreamy as you," said Claudia from the fondamenta. "Give us a lift, will you?"
She pulled up. They slung the bag in. It clinked. "A good time to be shopping," said Valentina cheerfully. "Everyone is at the celebration."
Claudia looked curiously at Maria. "Why aren't you?"
"I didn't want to stay," said Maria, curtly.
"I would have thought Benito would want your company?"
"There is nothing between me and . . ." Her lip quivered. "Benito. He doesn't love me. And I don't need him. Anyway, I'm going to marry my cousin Umberto. I just made up my mind. My family's been pestering me about it for weeks. They've got it all set up."