that mean you’re considering accepting Haviland’s proposition?’
‘I’d very much like to…But I’m not sure.’
‘Because of the Marquise?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘Perhaps you wouldn’t need to come into contact with her,’ David said practically.
Sophia shook her head. ‘From the way she spoke about the Palazzo, I get the distinct impression that that’s where she lives.’
‘Even if she does, if you feel like taking the job, don’t let her put you off.’ David smiled, keen that Sophia make the choice that she wanted, without the influence of the Marquise.
‘She doesn’t want me there.’
‘Judging by what he’s prepared to offer, Haviland certainly does,’ David countered her argument. ‘And, if you don’t want to risk living under the same roof as the Marquise, you can always insist on staying at a hotel.’
When she said nothing, he asked shrewdly, ‘Something else bothering you?’
‘She’s very beautiful.’ Sophia made an effort not to sound wistful.
‘And married.’
‘Yes, I know, but…’
‘You still think that she and Haviland are rather more than just good friends?’
‘Don’t you?’ she countered.
‘It’s possible,’ David replied cautiously. ‘But, though they obviously know one another very well, from what I’ve seen of his attitude towards her, I tend to think not…’
David was a good judge of human nature, and his answer—combined with the thought that if Stephen and the Marquise were lovers, he would hardly have asked her out—made Sophia’s spirits rise.
‘In any case it’s really none of my business,’ David went on. ‘And it’s certainly not like you to worry about other people’s morals.’
Then, his glance sharpening, ‘Unless…Do I take it you’re seriously interested in him?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted.
‘If you don’t accept his offer, what are the chances of seeing him again?’
‘Nil, I imagine.’
‘You’ve been looking peaky lately. I think a complete break and some Italian sunshine is just what you need. You may come back feeling a new woman.’
‘And I may come back with a broken heart.’ She spoke the thought aloud.
David had known Sophia since she was a girl and was well aware that where men were concerned she tended to remain cool, unmoved, a veritable ice queen. Even after her engagement had ended, she had never spoken the words a broken heart.
Now, hiding his surprise that she should use them about a man she had only just met, he said firmly, ‘Then again, you may not.’
‘She’s a very beautiful woman,’ Sophia repeated.
‘So are you.’
Sophia, who had no great appreciation of her own looks, half shook her head.
‘Plus you have a lovely nature,’ David went on, ‘and in the long run it’s what’s underneath that really counts.’
Seriously, he added, ‘I’d like you to be happy, my dear, so if you feel Haviland may be the man for you, go and give this thing a chance.
‘Of course on closer acquaintance he may turn out to be so obnoxious you wouldn’t have him as a gift. But until you’re sure, then my advice is to ignore the Marquise and stay at the Palazzo, fight for him if you have to.’
Thinking of the other woman’s vivid beauty and voluptuous figure, Sophia said wryly, ‘I’m afraid I can’t see myself winning, and I don’t want to forfeit my self-respect.’
‘Knowing you, I’ve no fear of that. And if you don’t try, if you chicken out and stay at home, you’ll have lost anyway.’
‘You’re right, of course. But there’s a snag…’
‘What’s that?’
She made a self-deprecating moue. ‘I don’t know how to…Fight for a man, I mean.’
David laughed, as she had intended him to do. ‘Just be yourself. Now, shall we go back and give Haviland the good news? Oh, by the way, if you have any stipulations, don’t hesitate to say so.’
When they returned to the other room, the Marquise and Stephen Haviland, her gleaming black head and his blond one close together, were deep in a low-toned, earnest conversation.
If they weren’t lovers they were certainly very old and intimate friends, Sophia thought as, breaking off, Stephen rose to his feet and, his eyes on her face, asked evenly, ‘So what’s the verdict?’
Only too aware that the Marquise was going to be anything but pleased by her acceptance of the proposition, Sophia began, ‘I would be happy to come to Venice…’
He smiled at her and took her breath away.
Hearing David clear his throat, she added hastily, ‘On one condition.’
‘Name it.’
‘I would prefer to stay at a hotel rather than at the Palazzo del Fortuna.’ She hoped very much that he wouldn’t ask why.
He didn’t. ‘Certainly, if that’s what you want,’ he agreed. Then, crisply, ‘Can you be ready to travel by Monday afternoon?’
‘Yes,’ she answered without hesitation, ‘so long as I can get a flight.’
‘Though the Venetian tourist season is well under way, as you’ll be travelling mid-week there shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Now, would you like me to make the arrangements, or would you prefer to make them yourself?’
After a moment’s consideration, deciding she would prefer to have a free hand, she said, ‘I’ll make them, thank you.’
‘Have you any particular hotel in mind?’
She shook her head.
‘Then may I suggest you try the Tre Pozzi? Without being luxurious, it’s both comfortable and central…I presume you can speak Italian?’
‘Yes. My mother always spoke to me in Italian and for some years after her death my father carried on the practice.’
The Marquise looked momentarily discomposed, while Stephen Haviland nodded his approval, before saying, ‘I’ll give you the phone number.’ He produced a pen from his jacket pocket and, on a page torn from a small diary, jotted it down.
‘And
