Venice in the Moonlight (8 page)

Nico rolled his eyes while Bella giggled. “Bella, may I present Signor Casanova, a wolf in sheep’s clothing if ever there was one. Recently, he was run out of Paris for breaking so many hearts.”

“Don’t listen to him, my beautiful Bella. If I had you by my side, there would be no need for other women. In fact, already you have ruined me, for no one will ever compare to you.”

Nico groaned and wrapped a protective arm around Bella’s waist. “Enough. You’re laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

Despite the loud merriment around them, Nico’s ears picked up the snap of Bella’s fan opening and then a slight breeze hit his cheeks.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Bella said coyly. “His words are as pleasing as his face.”

“Have you seen a portrait of me?” Casanova asked.

“No, we saw you from our garden earlier today. Do you do business with Father?”

There was a moment of silence before Casanova said in a strained voice, “You saw me at your house? You must be mistaken.”

Nico frowned at his friend’s denial. “Bella is sure it was you she saw leaving. Didn’t the servants tell you where we were?”

More silence and then Casanova replied, “Ah . . . yes . . . forgive me. It must be the wine fogging my memory. They told me you had just arrived and were with your sister. I did not wish to disturb your homecoming.” Casanova took Bella’s hand. “But, enough talk. I must dance with this beauty before the sun rises and we all go home.”

“Will you be all right, Nikki?” Bella asked. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

He waved them on. “Raul should be here soon. Go have your fun.”

Bella kissed him on both cheeks. “I love you!”

Nico took a glass of wine from a passing serving girl, moved to the edge of the crowd, and found an empty spot against the wall. He downed the drink in one swallow and then shut his eyes against the cloudy chaos before him.

arietta stared wide-eyed at the entrance of Il Ridotto. If La Mascareta was the poorest place in Venice, Il Ridotto was its rich cousin who happily fed the Venetians’ gaming addiction. She squeezed her way through the revelers and entered the main hall where dozens of masked couples danced under candlelit chandeliers to an orchestra of flutes and stringed instruments. In the glimmering light, the latest fashions set off by a rainbow of jewels paraded by her. She gasped in delight. This was Carnival, frolicking and cavorting for the moment, with the hopes of unbridled passion by the morning’s dawn. It was everything she remembered and so much more.

Mesmerized, she circled the dance floor, passing numerous smaller rooms with gaming tables. Occasionally, the groans from the gamblers overpowered the laughter from the dancers, but overall it seemed the losers weren’t letting their misfortune interfere with the night’s festivities.

Halfway to the musicians in the far corner, she noticed three familiar figures. She changed direction and found her English traveling companions huddled in a small alcove. “How nice to see you again so soon!”

Mrs. Brown’s paper-thin hand flew to the elaborate coif that hovered above her full Dama mask. “Oh, you recognized us,” she said in a disappointed voice.

It would be rude to explain how she did, so Marietta quickly changed the subject. “Are you settled in at your hotel?”

When Mr. Brown nodded, the exaggerated beak of his half mask hit the top of Mrs. Brown’s mask, knocking it crooked.

“Goodness gracious! Please be careful.” Mrs. Brown adjusted the mask so that she could see again.

“Sorry.” Mr. Brown shrugged sheepishly. “I’m not sure if I can get used to wearing this thing.”

Marietta turned to George, who leaned cross-armed against the wall. His white Bauta mask covered his entire face, with the chin coming to a sharp point. He wore the traditional three-corner Venetian hat and a long black cape. If she hadn’t known what he looked like under the disguise, she’d have considered him quite dashing. “Have you tried your luck at the gaming tables, George?”

“Mother won’t let me,” he replied in a sullen voice.

“I’ve heard the dealers are all cheats,” Mrs. Brown said. “But if you want to throw away perfectly good money, then go right ahead.”

Marietta offered her hand to the young man. “Let’s go take a look. I have a few sequins that I don’t mind parting with.”

When Mr. Brown nudged Mrs. Brown, Marietta immediately regretted her kindness. She felt sorry for George but certainly didn’t want to encourage any romantic feelings. Nodding their goodbyes, they made their way to the nearest gaming room and stopped at a Faro table.

“Which card should I bet on?” She pointed to the thirteen lying face up before them.

“How about two, for me and you?” When his voice cracked on the last word, he coughed into his hand to cover his nervousness.

Not liking where his thoughts were heading, she said, “How about four? To include your parents.”

George’s body drooped in defeat. “Whatever you think best.”

Marietta placed her sequins on the four of spades and waited for the dealer to turn over the loser and winner cards. Five turns later, the dealer unceremoniously collected her sequins when the loser card revealed a four.

“Well, we lasted longer than some.” She smiled brightly to ease some of George’s discomfort. “Shall we go find your parents?”

As they left the table, George collided with a group waiting for a chance to play. “Pardon me,” he mumbled.

“No, excuse us.”

She knew the voice and when she saw the Pierrot mask with tears, complete with dark lens over the eyeholes, she knew the man. Two shapely women, dressed as identical harlequins, held on to his arms, while the ever-present Raul stood a few feet away. “Signor Foscari, it’s Marietta Gatti.”

His head turned toward her voice. “Signora Gatti? Here? And who are you with when you refused my invitation?”

She blushed hot under her mask. “I’m with the Browns. You remember the son, Signor George Brown?”

“Pleased . . . pleased to see you again, Mr. Foscari.” George’s eyes moved over the women’s costumes, which left little to the imagination of what lied beneath.

“Signor Brown.” Nico bowed stiffly.

“And who are these clever women?” Marietta asked, referring to their last conversation in the café.

Nico laughed at her attempt to sting him. “Now, isn’t that the perfection of Carnival? You can remain anonymous if you want. I don’t know who these women are, but Raul assures me they are most beautiful.” He nuzzled the ear of the woman on his right, and she giggled her appreciation.

Marietta resisted the urge to hit him with her fan. “Yes, their beauty is easy to see.”

Nico disentangled himself from the harlequins and fumbled for her hand. He touched it to his lips and then brushed a thumb over her knuckles. Though he only held her hand, the heat from his body made her tremble. How did he do it? He was a scoundrel, yet his magnetism was undeniable and unfortunately, irresistible.

With a tilt of his head he said, “You must save me a dance now that you have found time for merriment.”

His chiding words jolted her back to reality. She came here for information, not to get caught up in the gaiety. She backed away from him to break his spell. “We must get back to the Browns. I fear they will think we are lost. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”

She turned on her heel and pushed her way through the gamblers with George following in her wake. When they found his parents, Marietta made her excuses and then circled back to the gaming rooms.

ico leaned against the Faro table, fingering the sequins in his hand. Raul had described the Browns to him back at the country villa, so he couldn’t imagine Marietta being attracted to the pimply son, yet here she was with him. It bothered him and he didn’t know why. He did know from the exaggerated sighs his lovely companions kept emitting, they were impatient with his lack of attention.

“Signore, are you going to place a bet?” the dealer asked.

“Hmmm? No, sorry.” He pocketed the sequins and turned to Raul. “We need to find Bella and Cas. I don’t need him ruining her the first night of Carnival. Then I want you to find Signora Gatti.”

“Two women aren’t enough for you tonight?” Raul asked in his usual dry voice.

“Ha. Ha. I just want you to follow her, and then tell me what she does.”

“If you ask me, she’s not interested in you.”

“I didn’t ask you.” However, Raul had seen Nico’s fears, a skill his tutor had honed over the years. It was quite annoying.

“I believe Bella is still dancing with your feckless friend, her virtue still intact.”

“Good. Lead the way.”

arietta wove between the tables and asked any middle-aged gambler she saw if he knew her father. It didn’t take long to realize her quest was impossible. Most of the men were too full of wine to understand her question. A few claimed to be her father and begged for a few spare sequins in the name of family.

As she wandered into the depths of Il Ridotto, the rooms became darker and the customers shabbier until it seemed she had magically returned to La Mascareta. To make matters worse, she was the only woman in sight and by the wolfish stares from the men, she wasn’t the only one to notice.

She pulled her cloak over her bodice and headed back toward the main hall. However, the hounds had caught her scent and weren’t going to give up without a chase. She hadn’t gotten far when a pair of hands pushed her from behind. Unable to catch her balance, she fell to her knees on the stone floor. Laughter erupted around her. She glared at the men and scrambled to her feet only to find two burly drunkards blocked her path.

“Don’t leave so soon, pretty lady,” said the man on the right. He wore a simple black mask, while his companion wore a white one. “Let’s have some fun.”

Marietta grabbed her fan from her pocket and clutched it like a dagger. She tried in vain to remain calm. “My friends are waiting for me. Perhaps another night.”

She took a step to the side, but then someone grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms. Panic exploded inside her. She twisted and kicked, hoping to harm or even break free, but it was no use. Defeated, she stopped struggling and lifted her chin in defiance. “Hurt me, and I promise you will regret it.”

This amused the men even more. The one in the black mask stepped within inches of her face. His cold eyes left no doubt of the cruelty he hoped to inflict. He ran a dirty finger across her lips. “You should watch your tongue.”

Marietta had a better idea. She rolled a gob of spittle and blew it in his face. The man swore vehemently and wiped at his chin with the back of his hand. When the other brute holding her laughed, his grip relaxed on her arms. It was the advantage she needed. She snapped her head back against his nose hard enough to hear the bones crack. The man cried out in pain and covered his nose to catch the blood running down his face.

Momentarily free, she searched the faces of the drunken men who watched the attack, hoping someone would help her, but no one moved. Then, once again, a familiar voice broke through the clamor.

“Signora Gatti! Here kitty, kitty! Where are you?” A chorus of curses sounded as Nico used his cane like a battering ram to push through the drunkards to reach Marietta and her assailants. “There you are, you bad kitty. You promised me a dance, and I’ve been waiting all night.”