most awkward, difficult woman I’ve ever met. I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m cold, and it was all completely unnecessary. Why the devil should I be angry with you?’
Instead of bursting into tears she regarded him thoughtfully before saying, ‘I expect you feel a lot better now you’ve lost your temper.’
‘Yes!’
It was true. All his life he’d been even-tempered. That had changed in the last year, when rage would sometimes overcome him without warning, but he’d put his mind to controlling these outbursts, and succeeded up to a point. But these days self-control had a heavy price, and now the relief of allowing himself an explosion was considerable.
‘Can I buy you a drink?’ she asked.
‘You can buy me two,’ he growled. ‘Come on, let’s go, it’s getting dark.’
Pietro grasped her hand firmly, so as not to lose her again, and reached for her suitcase. But she tried to hold on to it, protesting, ‘I’m quite capable of—’
‘Quit arguing and let go!’
He took her to a small café overlooking the lagoon, and they sat at the window, watching lights on the water. She bought him a large brandy, which he drained in one gulp, at which she ordered another.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘So you ought to be. Of all the stupid, stupid—’
‘OK, I get the point. I’m stupid.’
‘Yes, no! I didn’t mean it like that.’ With horror he realised how his careless words might sound after what she’d been through. ‘I don’t want you to think—just because your head was injured—’
Then he saw that she was giving him a quizzical half-smile.
‘It’s all right,’ she said kindly. ‘You don’t have to tread on eggshells. Let’s leave it that I’m crazy but I’m not stupid.’
‘Stop that talk! You’re not crazy.’
‘How do you know?’ she demanded indignantly.
‘Why are you suddenly different? Last night you were half out of it, and today you’re ready to fight the world.’
‘Isn’t fighting better than giving in?’
‘Sure, if you fight the right person. But why me?’ he demanded, exasperated. ‘Why am I getting all your aggro dumped on me?’
‘You’re handy.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘I’d had a bad time yesterday, what with the flight and getting soaking wet. There’s nothing like half drowning for making you depressed. But I’ve sorted myself out a bit now. Why are you glaring at me? What have I done wrong now?’
‘All day I’ve had nightmares about you wandering Venice alone, confused, miserable. I was sorry for you, worried about you—and now you’re fine.’
‘Well, I’m sorry about that. Last night the pressure made me slip back to my bad time, but I’ve pulled myself together.’
He wasn’t totally convinced. Her smile was too bright, not quite covering an air of strain, and he guessed that part of this was presented for his benefit. But certainly she was mentally stronger than he had feared.
‘I’m glad you’re better,’ he said, ‘but you’re still not ready to go wandering off among strangers. Whatever you may have thought, I didn’t want you to go.’
‘Of course you did—’
‘Woman, what will it take to stop you arguing every time I open my mouth?’
‘I don’t know. If I think of something I’ll make sure you never find out.’
‘I’ll bet you will.’
‘I was just so embarrassed when I found out about your wife and child.’
‘You needn’t be,’ he said, pale but speaking normally. ‘They died nearly a year ago. I’ve come to terms with it by now.’ Abruptly he changed the subject. ‘I’m ready for something to eat, on me this time.’
She knew he wasn’t telling the truth. He was far from coming to terms with his tragedy. His eyes spoke of a hundred sleepless night, and days that were even worse. He looked like a man who could be destroyed by his feelings, and, strangely, it made her feel calmer, as though in some mysterious way they were alike; equals in suffering, in need.
‘As long as you know that I’m sorry,’ she said slowly.
‘You’ve nothing to feel bad about. You’ve even done me a favour, giving me something to think about apart from myself.’
‘Oh, yes!’ she said fervently.
He gave a faint smile. ‘You too?’
‘I’ll say. After a while you get so bored with yourself.’
He ordered a meal, and while they waited he took out his cell phone and called Minna.
‘It’s all right, I’ve found her,’ he said. ‘If you’d just make up her bed—oh, you have. Thank you. Then I shan’t need you again today. Have an early night.’
‘That was my housekeeper,’ he explained, shutting off the phone.
‘And she’s already made my bed up?’
‘She never doubted that I’d bring you back.’
‘Now I remember. Gino once said that none of your servants ever doubted that you could do everything you said you would. It’s an article of faith, and practically heresy to doubt il conte.’
He made a wry face.
‘It sounds devoted but actually it’s just a way of controlling me.’
‘I suppose people’s expectations can be like handcuffs.’
‘Exactly. It’s one of the reasons I’ve always tried to keep my head down and not be il conte any more than I have to. But it doesn’t work. I’ve got the name hanging around my neck, and that great palace. How can any man live a normal life in a place like that?’
‘It must be grim if you’re there alone.’
‘I’m not exactly alone. Minna lives there, and Celia, a maid. And Toni.’
‘I love Toni,’ she said at once. ‘He’s so big and shambling. I’m not sure why but he looks terribly vulnerable.’
‘I got him from a rescue centre. Nobody else wanted him because he’s epileptic, and I suppose they thought it might make him aggressive. It doesn’t. Quite the reverse. When he has a fit he just lies there and shakes.’
‘Poor soul,’ she said, shocked. ‘So you gave
