The Padova Pearls

‘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 this is my home number…When all the arrangements are in place and you know the time of your arrival, perhaps you’ll give me a ring?’

‘Of course.’

He held out his hand and, with a strange feeling of having irrevocably committed herself, she put hers into it.

It was the first time he had touched her and, as his strong fingers closed around her slender ones, every nerve in her body responded to that touch and her heart lurched crazily.

Even when his grip loosened, it was a moment or two before she was able to withdraw her hand.

Turning to David, he said, ‘Thank you for your time and for loaning me Miss Jordan. If you would like to come to Venice yourself and take a look at the paintings, you’re welcome to stay at Ca’ Fortuna.’

David murmured his thanks and the two men shook hands cordially.

The Marquise rose to her feet and held out her hand with a forced smile, ‘Thank you, and goodbye.’

Taking her proffered hand, David bowed over it. ‘May I wish you a pleasant journey home.’

Turning to Sophia, the Marquise said stiffly, ‘I’ll see you in Venice, Signorina Jordan.’

As David opened the door to escort them back to the gallery, his phone started to ring. Excusing himself, he went back to answer it, leaving Sophia to show them out.