‘You’ve found her at last,’ Harriet said.

He played dumb. ‘Her?’

She thumped his shoulder. ‘You know what I mean. Her! The one.’ Remembering that he was at heart a cowboy she added, ‘She’s got you roped and tied.’

‘What’s her name?’ Dulcie demanded.

‘Selena. I met her in Texas. We stayed at the same ranch after she had an accident with her horse trailer.’

He fell silent.

‘And?’ they asked, in an agony of impatience.

‘We practised for the rodeo together.’

‘And?’

‘She fell off. So did I. Mind you, she only fell off in the practise ring, and I did it in front of a crowd of thousands. But we both fell off.’

‘So you started with something in common,’ Dulcie said wisely.

‘A marriage of true minds,’ Harriet agreed.

‘I shouldn’t think minds had much to do with it,’ Dulcie observed, recalling certain tales Guido had told her about Leo.

‘Nothing at all,’ Leo sighed like a man remembering bliss. ‘It was wonderful.’

Harriet’s lips twitched as she met Dulcie’s eyes, equally full of mirth.

‘You should have brought her here to meet us,’ she said.

‘That’s just the trouble, I don’t know where to find her.’

‘But didn’t you exchange names and addresses?’ Dulcie asked.

‘Yes, but-’ He plunged into a long account of the troubles that had separated him from his true love, finishing gloomily, ‘I might never see her again.’

A cry of, ‘Hey, Leo!’ made him drift off to join the other men. Dulcie and Harriet refused to meet each other’s eyes, but at last they couldn’t stand it, and burst out laughing.

‘Oh, we mustn’t,’ Harriet said, conscience stricken. ‘We’re terrible to laugh.’

‘I know,’ Dulcie choked. ‘But I can’t help it. Did you ever hear such a crazy story?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘Poor Leo. It could only happen to him.’

The next day they all gathered in the small side chapel of St Mark’s Basilica, for the wedding of Count Calvani to his beloved Liza. The count’s three nephews were groomsmen, and Liza was attended by the three ladies.

The reception was a strange affair. Despite her new status Liza was first and foremost a housewife who’d spent the last three months organising Dulcie and Guido’s wedding, set for next day. This was a big society occasion, with enough guests to fill the glorious St Mark’s Basilica, followed by a huge reception at the Palazzo Calvani which she insisted on overseeing in every detail.

She lingered at her own reception long enough for her devoted groom to toast her, then hurried off to the kitchens, for ‘a quick look.’ At last Count Francesco yielded to the inevitable and followed her.

‘I don’t think she appreciates her good fortune at all,’ Lucia said in bafflement. ‘She treats him really badly.’

‘That may be the secret,’ Guido said with a grin. ‘After all the women who put themselves out to catch his eye, the one he loves is the one who makes him fight for her attention.’

After that the party broke up into couples. Guido and Dulcie wandered away, arms about each other. Leo and Lucia settled down for a long comfortable talk in the moonlit garden, and Marco said abruptly to Harriet, ‘Shall we take a walk?’

Venice at night, a city of dark alleys leading to mystery, half-lights, ancient stones, shadows. The faint sound of music reached them, intermingled with the haunting cries of gondoliers echoing back and forth through the tiny canals. They strolled in silence for a while, walking apart.

‘I thought we should talk,’ he said.

‘It’s time,’ she agreed.

‘Watching that wedding service today made me do a lot of thinking. You, too, I expect.’

‘Oh, yes,’ she mused. ‘A lot.’

‘They say one wedding begets another. Don’t you realise how people are looking at us, expecting us to name the day?’

‘I had noticed the odd significant look.’

‘Tomorrow might be a good time.’

‘A time for-?’ she asked cautiously.

‘To announce a wedding date. We’ve had enough time to make a decision. My own decision is made. I did a wise thing when I came to London to find you. And you’re a natural Roman, anyone can see that. You’re even building up a clientele. When you move your business here you’ll have the basics already. We make a perfect team.’

‘Looked at like that, I suppose we do,’ she mused.

‘So can I tell my mother that it’s settled?’ he asked briskly.

This was it? This was a proposal of marriage in the softly lit alleys of Venice, with the stars glowing up above, and the atmosphere of romance all around? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘I don’t think we should rush a decision,’ she said at last. ‘You say I’m suitable because I’m a natural Roman and because I’ve already started to build up a clientele. That’s a pretty narrow list of qualifications for a wife. Also, there’s something that’s never been mentioned between us, and perhaps it should be.’

‘I was waiting for you to speak about it,’ he said. ‘That night we spent together-came as quite a surprise.’

‘You mean because you were the first man I’d slept with? Does it matter?’

‘It took me completely by surprise. You’re twenty-seven, and these days-’

‘I know. But most men have always bored me after a short time, even the ones I briefly thought I fancied. When it came to the point, there was always something more interesting to do, and they never seemed to stick around to try to persuade me.’

‘Can you blame them for losing heart once they realised they were competing with the Emperor Augustus?’

‘I suppose not.’

They walked on and found themselves at the edge of St Mark’s Square, which was emptying fast. At the outdoor cafés the chairs were being put on tables and the orchestras had fallen silent, all but one solitary violinist still playing for a couple dancing in the piazza, lost in each other.

‘I thought we were reasonably good together,’ he said. ‘Didn’t you?’

The warmth of his breath on her face, his body entwined with hers, urging, compelling, imploring, the hot, dark madness of him inside her. Reasonably good together.

‘Oh, yes,’ she said wryly, ‘the experiment was a success in every way. Optimum results.’

Take me in your arms and dance with me under the stars, to a lone violin.

‘I think things have gone well since the day you arrived. The best day is the first Saturday in September.’

The violin stopped.

‘You’ve fixed the date without consulting me?’

‘Not fixed, but I’ve been thinking of suitable dates. I’ve got some big deals going down.’

‘All your deals are big,’ she mused, playing for time.

‘But these are different. They’ll make me. It’ll be a partnership.’

‘And that’s what you really want, more than anything in the world?’

He gave a little embarrassed laugh. ‘Not just that. I’d be the youngest partner the bank’s ever had. Maybe it’s a kind of vanity, but it would please me. This will take all my attention for the next few weeks. By the time I can raise my head it will be September, and the summer will be over unless we make our plans now.’

‘No, Marco stop it. I won’t be rushed.’

‘But it’s common sense-’

‘Listen,’ she said desperately. ‘Do you remember what you said to me in the Bella Figura? You said, “Control is the answer. If you’re not in control, somebody else is. So you must always be the one in control.” I didn’t know then how true it was. Even with me.’

‘You’re reading more into that than it’ll take. One of us has to plan ahead.’

‘You’re planning too far ahead for me. I’m sorry, but I’m just not sure about marriage.’

‘But you just said-’

‘Sometimes optimum results aren’t enough.’

‘Well, what will be enough?’

‘I don’t know, but the jury’s still out. I don’t know what my future plans are.’

‘You don’t mean-’ he was peering at her in the semi darkness ‘-that you’re actually thinking of leaving?’

‘Not leaving Rome, just your home. There are some nice apartments on the Via del-’

He drew a sharp breath. ‘You’ve been looking at apartments?’

‘Only in the newspapers.’

‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ he said coldly. ‘May I ask when you were going to tell me?’

‘Not until after we’d left here. And I still haven’t quite decided.’

‘So until you do I’m supposed to bide my time and be a suppliant, waiting on your pleasure? Perhaps I don’t like that?’

‘And perhaps I don’t like your assumption that since you’ve made your decision I have to jump to it. There are two decisions to be made here, Marco. Not just yours.’

He turned away, striding up and down on the flag-stones. Harriet could sense his irritation at having his plans frustrated.

‘Maybe people who fight as much as we do shouldn’t think of marriage,’ she suggested. ‘Let’s leave it there for tonight, or we’ll really quarrel.’

‘All right. Let’s leave it there.’

They walked back through the little streets, where the ghosts of a thousand lovers lingered, whispering to those who had ears to hear. But these two passed on without a backward glance. When they came to the side entrance to the Palazzo Calvani they slipped indoors, bid each other a courteous goodnight, and went their separate ways.

One by one, the lights were going out along the Grand Canal. In the garden Leo rose and helped Lucia to her feet.

‘Thank you for listening to my ramblings,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid Dulcie and Harriet thought me a bit of a clown.’

‘Well, your life has been rather full of entanglements,’ Lucia said, patting his hand. ‘But if Selena is the right woman, you’ll find her again. Although I think she’s quite mad if she doesn’t come to find you.’

‘Maybe she doesn’t want to find me,’ Leo said gloomily.