The Venetian Playboy’s Bride

of the count’s gardeners, earning extra in his college vacation. Guido grinned at him and murmured a few words in Venetian. Some notes changed hands.

After this, no more dodges, he promised himself as he walked out. From now on I shall be as open and virtuous as she is herself. She has reformed me.

The thought made him stop and consider. A reformed character.

A better man.

It’ll be pipe and slippers next. You’ve always run a mile from them.

But who cares, as long as she’s there?

He was grinning as he joined her at the table.

‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.

‘It’s not funny exactly, it’s just-have you ever suddenly looked around and found that life was a completely different shape to what you’d thought?’

‘Well-’

But he didn’t really want an answer. He was driven by the need to express the thoughts that overwhelmed him. ‘Suddenly all the things you thought you’d never want became the objects of your desire-’

‘How much did you drink while you were in there?’

‘Why does everyone think I’m drunk? But I am!’ he cried up to the sky. ‘After all, there’s drunk and drunk.’

‘What are you talking about?’ she chuckled.

‘I don’t know. I only know that-that-’

‘Buon giorno, signore!’

It was Nico, being the perfect waiter. Guido ground his teeth. Surely there were other waiters? He gave the order and Nico departed, returning a moment later with pasta. He would have hovered further, enjoying the joke, but a look from Guido sent him scuttling off.

The food was delicious and Dulcie tucked in.

I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, she thought. I’m here to work. But-just a few more hours, and then I’ll be good.

He was the perfect companion, telling her funny stories, refilling her glass with sparkling mineral water with as much of a flourish as if it were the finest wine. Afterwards he made her lie down in the shade for an hour before he would allow her to go into the sea.

But once in the water she was overcome with the longing to strike out. She was a strong swimmer and in a moment she was heading out to sea, ignoring his cry of protest, making him chase after her. By the time he caught up they were in deep water, and she was feeling good.

Laughing, she turned to face him, treading water, and found him wild-eyed.

‘You crazy woman,’ he said. ‘To do such a thing in strange waters! You don’t know what the currents are like.’

‘You could always swim to my rescue,’ she teased.

‘And suppose I couldn’t swim?’

‘Oh, sure! A Venetian who can’t swim! Even I know better than that!’

‘I’m a lot feebler than I look,’ he protested.

‘Oh, yeah!’

‘I’ve got a bad back,’ he clowned. ‘And a bad everything.’

‘You look fine to me,’ she said, surveying his smooth brown chest and muscular arms with pleasure.

‘It’s an illusion. Beneath this young exterior is the frame of a creaking old man, I swear it. In fact I- Aaargh!’

With a theatrical yell and a waving of arms he vanished beneath the water. Dulcie watched, amused, calculating when he would have to come up.

‘Right,’ she murmured. ‘I said I’d get my own back. Watch this.’

She saw his shape reappearing below the surface from whatever depths he’d sunk to, and in the split second before his head broke the surface she slipped underwater, staying just close enough to hear his cry of, ‘Dulcie! Dulcie! Dio mio! Dulcie!’

‘Fooled you,’ she said, coming up just behind him.

‘You-you-!’

‘Come on, it’s only what you did to me.’

‘You knew I was playing. I thought you’d drowned, you just vanished and-and-the whole ocean to search- Come here!’

‘No way,’ she said, seeing in his face that she’d pushed him just a little too far. Turning tail she began to swim back as fast as she could, managing to stay ahead, but only just. As soon as she reached the sand she began to run and covered several hundred yards before he caught up, seizing her arm.

‘Ouch!’ she said, for suddenly her skin stung where he touched it.

He released her at once. ‘Basta!’ he said. Enough. ‘You’ve been too long in the sun.’

He curved his arm near her shoulders, not touching, but insisting that she turn back to their umbrella. She found it was a relief. An ache was starting in the back of her head and she felt she’d had enough fun for one day.

‘Sorry if I worried you,’ she said.

‘Worried me? Do you know-? No matter. I’ll postpone my revenge.’

She lay down under the umbrella while he brought her a cold drink. It refreshed her a little, but the pleasure had gone out of the day, and when he suggested that they drift home she agreed. She was beginning to feel sleepy, and that made her annoyed with herself, because there was so much of the day left that she might have enjoyed.

On the journey back across the lagoon she stared out over the water, and must have dozed because suddenly it was time to disembark. Her nap hadn’t made her feel any better, although she tried to seem brighter than she felt. The headache had now taken over completely. Her whole body felt hot and uncomfortable and the spell of the day was rapidly dissolving in a very prosaic feeling of being poorly.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Guido began to say, but stopped as he looked at her. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

She tried to laugh. ‘Just a bit of a headache.’

‘Let me look at you.’ He took gentle hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘My poor girl!’

‘What is it?’ she asked, feeling more ill by the moment.

‘Despite our precautions you’ve caught the sun badly. That fair skin of yours can’t cope with this heat. I should have bought a stronger cream. Are you feeling bad?’

‘Yes,’ she said wretchedly. ‘My head aches terribly.’

‘Right, we’re going home. Stay here.’

He settled her on a low stone wall and disappeared. She had no choice but to do as he’d said and stay there. The whole world seemed to be thundering inside her brain. She was only vaguely aware of him returning, saying, ‘I’ve got us a taxi. Hold onto me.’

He half carried her down the steps to the boat, then sat in the back, holding her close, her head on his shoulder. She felt the vibration as the motor boat started up, the swift movement over the water, and the inexpressible comfort of his arms about her. The pain in her head was dreadful, yet she had a confused feeling that she could go on like this forever, if only he would hold her as he was doing now. Once she was vaguely aware of him making a call on his mobile phone, then everything went hazy again.

Then they were stopping and she was groping her way out, her eyes half closed, guided by him.

‘Nearly there,’ he said. ‘You’ll find the rest of the way more comfortable like this.’ And he was lifting her in his arms.

She was too weak to protest, although she could guess what a figure she must cut, being carried through the foyer of the Vittorio. How they would all be staring at her! She heard doors opening and closing behind them, then there was the blessed relief of being out of the sun.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘What must they think of us?’

‘Who?’