‘No, it wasn’t like that,’ she assured him. ‘I was only afraid of what I might remember, that maybe I’d done something stupid, something that would cast a blight over you and me, or even send my mind back into the shadows. That was the only fear.’
‘And instead, Gino turns out to be a cowardly little swine whom no woman should look at twice,’ Pietro said with a touch of anger.
‘Hush, it doesn’t matter.’
‘How can you say that what he did to you doesn’t matter?’
‘All right, it matters, but only because it sent me to you. If he’d behaved well I might have married him, and then you and I would have met too late.’
He nodded. ‘That’s a terrifying thought, because I couldn’t have met you without loving you, and if it was too late-’
He tightened his arm about her.
‘That would have been truly a life lived in the shadows,’ he said. ‘With nothing but pain and regret.’
‘Do you remember the first night we met?’ she asked. ‘We talked then about shadows, about how they never ended.’
‘I remember.’
‘But they have ended now. Gino has gone from my mind as thoroughly as he’s gone from my heart. Now there’s only you, always.’
Pietro replied, not in words, but with a kiss that was long and gentle.
They walked on for a while, listening to the night. Venice was quiet except for the distant sound of laughter, the fading music that meant the gondoliers were going home, the soft cry of seagulls.
‘Contessa Bagnelli,’ she mused, trying the name for size. ‘I just can’t quite see myself living up to all the pomp. Life in a London suburb doesn’t exactly fit you for it.’
‘But you’ll do it wonderfully, with the help of your friends-all seventy thousand of them.’
She understood at once. The people who lived here all the time, the true Venetians who stood out from all other people in the world by their courage, their readiness to face any trouble, and, above all, their generosity.
Her very first day here they had kept protective eyes on her as she blundered around, then guided Pietro to her rescue. Her friends were there again now, opening windows overhead, looking down at the two of them, smiling with delight, whispering their good wishes, welcoming her into the family.
‘Buona notte, signore.’
‘Buona notte, Alfredo, Renato, Maria…’ He knew all their names.
From all sides the words floated down around them. ‘Is it true? Please say that it’s true-we will be so glad.’
He laughed up at them. ‘Wait and see,’ he teased.
But they had already seen what they cared about. Their friend was laughing again. All was well.
‘You’re one of us already,’ Pietro told her. ‘And we’ll never let you go.’
Overhead, a hundred eyes watched them drifting contentedly on their way, with Toni padding softly behind them, until the friendly darkness swallowed them up.
Lucy Gordon
Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Sir Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness, and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books. She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days.
You can visit her website at www. lucy-gordon. com and look out for The Italian’s Passionate Revenge which will be available in May!
