Lucy Gordon - Wedding in Venice

But if there was a law, he would ignore it. She knew that already. He would ignore anything that didn't suit him.

At the moment it seemed to suit him to keep hold of her hand, although she was sitting upright now, and there was no need.

He sat down beside her.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "That was quite a tumble!"

"Not as bad as the one you took yesterday," she reminded him.

"But I landed safely in the water."

"Well, I landed safely on – cabbages? I'm sitting on cabbages?"

"And onions and potatoes and lettuces. This barge belongs to the Hotel Busoni, and I'm taking supplies to the kitchens."

"Well, I'm very glad you were passing just then, or it could have been really nasty. The water wouldn't have done my camera any good."

"Then I'm happy to have been of service," he said with an air of chivalry that sat oddly with his threadbare clothes.

He squeezed her hand gently between both of his.

"I hope I haven't squashed the vegetables," she said, reluctantly disengaging her hand and feeling around gingerly. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

"Please don't worry about me," he said gravely.

"You're sure your boss will be okay?"

"Let's say I can handle anything he's likely to throw at me."

"Hey, how do I get out? That ledge is way above me."

"Because this is low tide."

"You mean I'm trapped here?"

"Only until we reach the next flight of steps."

He pointed to where she could see steps cut into the stone, about ten yards ahead.

"But we're not moving," she said.

"That's because we've hit a traffic jam," he pointed out, indicating several other barges, bent on the same errand, that were blocking their way.

"Where's Dulcie?" she asked, looking around.

"Your friend is back there. We moved on for a bit after you fell."

Justine could just make out Dulcie standing by the water, at the place where she had gone in. She waved and caught her attention.

Dulcie doubled up with laughter, and indicated that she would walk along the canal's edge to join her, but Justine firmly waved her back for fear of damage to the lovely wedding dress. Dulcie nodded, agreeing to wait.

"I'm taking the pictures of Dulcie and Guido's wedding," Justine explained. "You know Guido, don't you?"

He grinned.

"Everyone knows Guido. He's crazy." Seeing her puzzled look he added, "In Venice, that is a compliment."

"I see – at least, I think I do."

He extended his hand again.

"I am Riccardo Gardini."

"I am Justine Bentley."

They shook hands.

"Will you remain in Venice for long?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've got a few days before the wedding, then I'll stay on to get some shots of the city, but I'm not sure just how long that will take."

"It will take a lifetime," he said at once. "You will never come to the end of Venice. There is always one more beauty to be seen, one more mystery to tease you. So you must stay here forever."

"Well, it's beautiful enough, I agree, and I really want to see it all."

"Then I shall arrange it so that you do."

The lordly way he said, "I shall arrange it," made her lift her eyebrows. Just who did he think he was? And what did he think she was? An easy pickup?

"Say that you will spend some time with me," he coaxed.

He was the most dangerously attractive male that she'd met in a long time. Did anything else matter?

And then she saw something that drove everything else out of her mind.

"Oh my goodness, look at that!" she breathed.

"Maria Vergine!" he exclaimed, looking around. "What's the matter?"

"That!" she said, pointing over his shoulder. "Oh, help! I've got to get out of here, fast."

"Where's the fire?" Riccardo demanded, looking around to see what had agitated Justine.

"Dulcie!" Justine cried. "Look at her! Oh, how can that happen and me not be there?"

Turning to look behind him, Riccardo saw Dulcie standing by the canal in her wedding dress. A sudden breeze had arisen, whisking the long veil high, so that it seemed to stream up to the sky, making a perfect gauze halo about her. Dulcie's face was raised and she was laughing with delight. It would have made a glorious picture. And Justine was missing it.

"Can't you take it from here?" Riccardo asked.

"I am," she said, snapping away madly, "but it won't be the same. I need to get close, but how can I while we're stuck here?"

"Like this," Riccardo said, placing his hands on her waist and hoisting her up.

She had a brief sensation of flying, as though she were no more than a bag of feathers he was tossing. Then she landed and scrambled to her feet, almost in one movement.

"Thank you," she gasped, beginning to run.

"Good luck!" he called, but she was already beyond hearing.

Riccardo watched her, wryly aware that she had completely forgotten him. Only a moment ago the air had seemed to sing with the intensity of something that was starting between them. He had asked her to spend time with him. She had hesitated, but his well-honed instincts told him she was about to fall into his net.

But she had escaped at the last minute through one of those twists of fate that even the best fishers of women could not anticipate.

And she hadn't even glanced back for a last look at him. Faced with a good picture opportunity, she'd wiped him from her existence.

Riccardo wasn't a conceited man, but this was not what he was used to. Honor demanded that he did not leave matters there. They had unfinished business.

As he went on his way, he was smiling.

* * *

"I can't believe that happened," Justine wailed as Dulcie's veil floated back down to earth. "That would have been the shot of shots, the big one. Aaaarrrgh!"

"It's not fair," Dulcie agreed sympathetically. "Still, you got some lovely pictures before that."

But Justine couldn't be consoled. As they made their way back to the Palazzo Calvani she was still mourning "the one that got away."

It was Riccardo's fault, of course. If he hadn't kept her talking she would have been back to work in moments.

I hope his vegetables rot, she thought grumpily.

As soon as they reached the palazzo, Dulcie changed out of the wedding dress and settled it on its stand to await the big day. Then she went to Justine's room, and found her downloading the morning's work.

"Guido's gone to collect Uncle Francesco and Liza from the airport," she said. "I'm longing for you to meet them."

"They're getting married the day before you, right?"

"Right. It's such a romantic story. They've been in love for fifty years, but Liza wouldn't marry him because he was a count and she was his housekeeper. After all this time, she's finally agreed. It's so sweet to see how much they love each other. Guido and I are going to be exactly the same when we're old."

Justine gave a brief, wry smile that made Dulcie cry out, "What's that for? I know you pretend not to believe in love, but even you have to agree that it's a beautiful story."

"I do believe in love," Justine said. "Love is real. It's the 'eternal' bit that I can't swallow."

"Fifty years sounds pretty eternal to me."

"Sure, a fifty-year courtship!" Justine chuckled. "I believe in that. But you know as well as I do that it's when people get married that things start to go wrong."

"Let's be glad the rest of the world doesn't know it," Dulcie observed, "or the human race would die out. Three cheers for men and women getting together."

"Ah, getting together. That's different," Justine said, her eyes twinkling. "I believe in that."

"That's them," Dulcie said, at a sound from below.

She vanished. Justine waited, giving her friend time to greet her new family. Just when she was thinking she should go down and be introduced, Dulcie came flying back.

"You could be right," she said, sounding agitated. "Maybe love doesn't last. Uncle Francesco and Liza have had the most terrible quarrel."

"After all this time? What about?"

"I don't know, but from the way they're glaring at each other there's big trouble. Maybe there'll only be one wedding after all."

Count Calvani was a tall, handsome man in his early seventies. Liza, too, was tall, thin and frail-looking, but with an indomitable face. Just now, as Dulcie had warned, both faces were glowering.

They both greeted Justine warmly, and Liza summoned wine and cakes from the kitchen. But she and the count carried on the battle in low voices.

"They're talking Venetian dialect, which I don't understand," Dulcie said. "Guido, whatever's happened?"

He grinned. "Uncle was thinking of having a last-minute party the day after tomorrow, then he changed his mind, thinking it would be too much work for Liza, with the wedding feasts as well. He was being considerate but she's mad at him for 'not having faith in her.'"

"But can't a hotel do the catering?" Justine asked. "What about -" inspiration seemed to strike her from the blue "- what about the Hotel Busoni?"

Guido's eyes lit up and he immediately spoke to his uncle in rapid Venetian. Dulcie smiled and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

"What an inspiration," she told Justine. "The owner is a friend of Guido's. The hotel hasn't been open long, and he needs all the work he can get."

Justine was amused when Guido turned his charm on Liza, putting his hands together imploringly. At last the old woman smiled and gave him a light slap, clearly telling him to stop his nonsense. Guido grinned and leapt for the telephone.