Lucy Gordon - The Venetian Playboy’s Bride

‘Well, it certainly came about very suddenly,’ Dulcie agreed. ‘Harriet just appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly they were engaged.’

‘Are they in love, do you think?’

Dulcie regarded Marco and his fiancée, Harriet d’Estino, gliding gracefully by. ‘I don’t know,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But you’ve got to admit that what happened at that engagement party was very strange.’

‘Strangest thing I ever saw,’ Leo observed over her shoulder. ‘Marco was a lot more upset than he allowed to appear. You know how he keeps his feelings to himself. And he wouldn’t tell the world he was in love, either.’

‘More fool Marco,’ Guido said, his loving eyes on his bride.

The wedding was a lavish extravaganza, which neither of them had wanted, but also which neither of them noticed. Today they were the centre of a performance, wearing the glamorous masks that the world expected, playing their parts to perfection. Tonight all masks would fall away, and so now they could be patient, waiting for their moment.

Nobody knew the honeymoon destination. Several were mentioned-New York, the Bahamas, the south of France-but never confirmed. Only Liza knew that when, late in the evening, they slipped away from the reception, they headed, not to the airport, but to the landing stage where a gondola awaited, with a familiar gondolier keeping it safe.

‘Fede!’ Guido shook his friend’s hand warmly, and Dulcie kissed him.

‘Here it is,’ Fede said, indicating his gondola. ‘Jenny asked me to say sorry she left the reception early. She was feeling a bit queasy, and Roscoe got rather over-protective.’

‘How is the future grandfather?’ Dulcie asked.

‘Trying to take over, but we’re resisting. He’s almost as hard-going now as when he was hostile, but Jenny’s happy, and that’s all that matters.’

He helped to settle Dulcie in the boat, handed the oar to Guido, and retreated, waving.

Dulcie sat facing Guido, her bridal veil billowing around her. ‘Let’s go home,’ she said. ‘Our real home.’

He began to ply the oar. ‘You’re sure you want to have our honeymoon there? We could still fly away if you like. Anywhere in the world.’

‘But we have the world waiting for us,’ she said softly.

He headed out into the Grand Canal, then turned the gondola into the small canals for the short journey home.

The palace and its turmoil slid away from them. The glitter faded into the distance. Music floated faintly across the water. Under the stars Harlequin and Columbine drifted in an endless dream.