Venetian Masquerade (3 page)

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 her 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.”

“Ah…”

“I think I already have an idea, although I hope I’m wrong. Is it someone you met in Rome when you were doing your masters degree?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” She paused, a wave of anxiety washing over her. Just talking about Alessandro was an ordeal. “He’s the owner of Benedetto International.” She continued at last. “A property developer—worth millions.”

“Alessandro?”

“You know him?” she asked, aghast. How many more shocks was this day going to bring?

“By reputation.”

“He doesn’t know about James, and I dread him finding out.”

“Then your life is going to be interesting, Amy. I am sorry to tell you that some of the investments your father made for me were done through his company. His father was running it at that time of course, but there’s no way you can avoid contact with the di Benedetto family while the will is being sorted out. His company holds a lot of the paperwork for me, so I’m afraid your name may come before him and he will inevitably track you down.”

“I simply don’t believe this,” Amy groaned. “I spent five and half years trying to put him out of my mind. I moved to France until James was born. A couple of months later, because part of my life plan was to travel, I got jobs which took us on contracts to Canada for two years and down to Florida for another year. Fortunately, with my language skills, I could work almost anywhere. I only went back to London two years ago, thinking Alessandro would have long forgotten me. Yesterday, I backed into his car in London.”

“How did you first meet him? Tell me the story, Amy; indulge me,” pleaded Maria, a twinkle briefly appearing in her eyes.

“All right.” She took Maria’s hand and began. “I told you I was working in Rome as a post-graduate after I got my degree as an interpreter at Geneva University. At twenty-one, with the world at my feet, I found a job with the Tourist Board. I escorted coach tours, helped tourists in distress, accompanied them to see doctors, and so on.

“Well, one day, I was in the office when a very aggressive and pushy American woman, a Mrs. Wentworth, came in and asked—no, demanded—the services of an interpreter for her first meeting with a property developer she’d employed to project manage building a hotel for her. Her personal assistant had gone sick, and the local agencies couldn’t help her. My boss thought it would be good experience for me, offered to rent me out to her for an exorbitant fee, and to my amazement, she agreed. I barely had time to freshen up before she dragged me off, almost by force, to her meeting. Chairing the meeting, of course, was Alessandro.” Amy paused, remembering the electric charge that had shot through her body the first time she had seen him.

He’d ignored her at first, poring over some papers, his long fingers shuffling the reports around as he talked to a colleague. Then he had looked up and frozen for a moment as their eyes met and locked, each, in a split second, recognizing destiny. It was such a cliché that Amy had giggled and turned away to hide the deep flush spreading up her neck.

“Go on, Amy—what happened next?”

“Well, this ghastly American woman swooped on Alessandro, almost pinning him to the wall, chattering at him. I spent the next two hours interpreting for both of them, and I could hardly fail to be impressed by his mind. Of course, he arranged a deal that suited him, and she turned to jelly before my eyes. ‘Yes, Alessandro, no, Alessandro…that’s a wonderful idea, Alessandro.’ By the time we finished, she was so bemused, she thought everything they agreed had been her own idea—so she left, very pleased with herself, and didn’t realize he’d manipulated her all along. Clever.”

“And then?”

“Everyone else left the room, and I picked up my belongings from the table, intending to leave too…” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “And he strode across the room...and kissed me.”

Amy struggled to control the quiver in her voice and for a moment fell silent, remembering the moment. Alessandro, leaving her no choice, no chance to say no, simply took her in his arms. After looking searchingly into her wide, astonished eyes, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her so deeply and with such expertise, she had wilted in his arms under the impact. Afterwards,, he tipped her chin back and smiled triumphantly, saying in perfect English, “That was as wonderful as I knew it would be. For two hours, that wretched woman kept me from you, and I thought she would never go.”