‘Why are you all Harlequins?’ he complained. ‘The place will be crawling with Harlequins. Do you want to be mistaken for other men?’
They presented a handsome sight in their identical skin-tight costumes of coloured diamond shapes, alternating with white. Only a young man with a flat stomach and taut muscles could risk the revealing garb, and while Marco might be a fraction taller, and Leo slightly heavier, what would really distinguish them from other Harlequins was their ability to dress like this without looking ridiculous.
The costume was topped off by a small white ruff around the neck. On his head each wore a black tricorne hat, and beneath it the mask, the eyebrows raised to give a quizzical look. Francesco snorted.
‘I suppose you’re planning something disgraceful, like making inroads among the female guests and leaving them wondering which one of you it was.’ He then spoiled his righteous indignation by adding, ‘That’s what we did in my day.’
‘I don’t think our chaste ears are ready to hear about your youth, Uncle,’ Leo said, grinning.
‘You’d get a few surprises,’ Francesco agreed. ‘But now I’m a reformed character. Guido, you’ll be glad to hear that I’m going to do what you’ve always wanted.’
‘Get married?’ Guido gasped.
Marco coughed. ‘But Uncle, isn’t it a little late for you to be thinking-I mean-’
‘I’m in my prime,’ the count declared firmly.
‘Of course he is,’ Guido said. ‘The nursery will be full in no time.’ An agreeable vista of freedom was opening before him. ‘Will we meet her tonight, Uncle?’
‘No, she won’t be at the ball.’
‘But surely-?’
‘Any more than Lady Dulcie will be at the ball,’ Francesco said, glaring at him. By now he knew that they’d met, but Guido hadn’t burdened him with too many precise details. ‘I won’t ask what you’ve done to offend her, but I’m sure it’s something unforgivable.’
‘She seems to think so,’ Guido grunted. ‘I aim to put it right soon, but now that my marriage will no longer matter to the family line, since you’re marrying yourself, I’d rather discuss it no further.’
When Guido spoke in that firm tone nobody argued with him. A few minutes later they were all on their way downstairs to meet the torchlit procession that was coming along the Grand Canal. Gondola after gondola approached the landing stage to be greeted by their hosts, and a stream of masked figures passed into the glittering palazzo.
Music was already playing. Lights shone from every door and window. A line of footmen stood bearing trays on which stood glasses of the finest crystal, filled with the best champagne.
‘If only they’d show a little originality,’ Francesco growled as he stood waiting, a smile fixed on his face. ‘So many Columbines, Pantelones, Pulcinellas.’
‘They can’t all be the Doge of Venice,’ Guido muttered. ‘Not many men could carry it off.’
‘That’s true,’ Francesco agreed, mollified.
‘And if you want something unusual,’ Leo said, ‘how about Henry VIII?’
The Vittorio motor launch was just drawing up, with Roscoe standing in the rear.
‘Roscoe Harrison,’ Guido said. ‘You are delighted to see him.’
‘Am I?’
‘For my sake, yes. The Columbine in the back is his daughter Jenny.’
‘Another Columbine! How many is that?’
Guido need not have feared. The count gloried in his skills as a host, and the next few minutes went smoothly. Francesco bowed low over Jenny’s hand murmuring, ‘How charming!’ and he and Roscoe eyed each other’s attire with respect.
Guido took charge of the new arrivals, feeling Jenny cling nervously to his arm, and led them into the house. He would have been glad to skip this evening which was going to be so different from his hopes. Dulcie should have been around, helping him out, and then, while they were working together-here his invention failed, but surely something would have happened. He scowled. When Harlequin ran out of ideas Columbine was supposed to come to his rescue.
He’d managed to get a seat on an early flight next morning. In the meantime he had work to do. He studied Jenny, noting with approval that she’d dressed to his instructions, with a black silk cap concealing her hair, a small black tricorne hat and a crimson satin mask, so heavily trimmed with lace that it covered most of the lower part of her face as well.
Her dress was a mass of white tulle, with a tight waist, puff sleeves and a huge ballerina skirt that ended just below the knee. She looked delicate and enchanting.
‘Fede won’t be able to resist you,’ he said when he’d swept her away into the dance.
‘Oh, Guido, is he really here? I’m so nervous.’
‘He’s outside in the boathouse. We’ll wait until it’s a bit more crowded and your Poppa can’t see you so well, and then my brother Leo will ask you to dance. Your father will think it’s me, but I’ll be dancing with another Columbine and so we’ll keep him confused.’ His gaze fell on a detail that troubled him. ‘I wish you weren’t wearing that diamond necklace. It looks like it cost a fortune.’
‘Ten thousand,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Dad insisted on giving it to me just before we came out. He said it was to “console me” for losing Fede.’
‘That figures. But you can bet he’ll keep his eyes on it, and it’ll complicate the switch over to the other Columbine. I’ve persuaded one of the maids to help out.’
‘It was supposed to be Dulcie, wasn’t it? She’s really gone then?’
‘Yes, but I’m going to get her back. Jenny, I simply must talk to you about her.’
‘We will, I promise. But I see Dad waving to me. I’ll be back later.’
She slipped away and Guido lost her in the crowd. He spent the next half hour on hot coals, doing duty dances, watching the time pass, wondering how soon he could get away to England.
Roscoe was enjoying himself. He and the count had squared up to each other, and he hadn’t backed down. And those diamonds of Jenny’s! Anyone could see that they’d cost a pretty penny. It never hurt to show people you had money, and Roscoe had big plans for his daughter.
He looked around and frowned when he couldn’t see her. She’d been there just a moment ago, dancing with Guido. Then she’d vanished in the crush.
No, there she was again, a pretty Columbine, threading her way through the crowd, her diamonds sparkling magnificently.
‘They look wonderful on you, darling,’ he growled.
But Columbine didn’t seem happy. She made a gesture as if to remove the diamonds, but he stopped her.
‘You keep them on. Guido was looking at them. Keep working on him, and you’ll be a countess yet.’
Columbine sighed and began to thread her way back through the crowd to where Harlequin was looking around him.
‘There you are,’ he said with relief.
‘You wanted to talk about Dulcie.’
‘I’m going to follow her to England.’
Columbine put her head on one side, teasing him. ‘And when you see her, what will you say?’
He groaned. ‘I don’t know. Just ask her to forgive me for being a pompous jerk, I suppose. Who knows what she’s thinking now? I don’t even know if she heard me calling to her down the platform. She didn’t telephone you?’
‘I haven’t spoken to Dulcie,’ Columbine said truthfully. ‘And even if I had, I doubt she’d tell me much. Once she’s made up her mind, that’s it!’
Through his mask Guido’s eyes widened with alarm. ‘You don’t mean that she’d never forgive me? I don’t believe that.’
‘Dulcie’s stubborn. When she’s decided against somebody-’ she gave an eloquent shrug.
‘But you don’t really know her well.’
‘Neither do you after just a few days-’
‘A few days is enough when you’ve met your ideal. Or a few minutes. I knew at once, when she tossed that sandal down into my gondola-’
