I looked around, conscious of the pairs of eyes on me. “I must check with my associate first.”

“You are here on business?”

“I’m a schoolteacher, here with a party of girls. We’re staying in a convent.”

I went over to Miss Frobisher. “Would it be all right if I met this gentleman for dinner tonight? He’s an old friend I knew when I was staying here with my aunt, and I haven’t seen him in years.”

“I suppose that would be all right, if he’s an old friend of the family,” Miss Frobisher said doubtfully, stressing the word “family.” “But remember the convent rules.”

“Yes, of course.” I turned back to Leonardo. “I’d love to have dinner with you, but can it be a little earlier? The convent locks its doors at ten o’clock, and unfortunately there are bars on the windows.”

“Dio mio!” He shook his head. “Why do you stay in such a place?”

“The school wanted to make sure the girls were suitably chaperoned and safe.”

“Which convent is this?”

“Mater Domino in Santa Croce.”

He shook his head again. “I pity you. Even the Pensione Regina would have been an improvement. But no matter. I can come for you?”

“I can meet you somewhere,” I said, not wanting Miss Frobisher or the girls to witness our meeting. “There is no need. It is off the beaten path.”

“Which path?” He looked confused.

“I only meant that it is out of the way. Inconvenient to get to. I can take the vaporetto easily.”

“Very well. It may be a little rushed for me to make my way over to Santa Croce by seven thirty. Let us eat at the Danieli, then. You know it, of course. Just to the right of San Marco on the waterfront. Easy to get to. The San Zaccaria stop?”

I nodded. “Yes. That’s no problem.”

“I will see you in the lobby. Seven thirty then?”

“Yes. Lovely. Thank you.” I could hear myself babbling.

He held out his hand, and when he took mine he squeezed it.

“Until this evening then.” And he strode back to the waiting men.

“Your face is awfully red, miss,” Sheila pointed out.

“It’s rather hot today, isn’t it?” I said. “I expect we could all do with a cool drink.”

CHAPTER 10

Juliet, Venice, July 1938

When I prepared to dress for dinner that night, I realized I had nothing suitable to wear at an important restaurant. I had not brought a long dress with me, and in truth the only long dresses I possessed were from the time when it was hoped I’d go to balls and parties and meet a young man. The time before everything in my world changed. I had brought a royal-blue tea dress that once belonged to my mother, and a fringed silk shawl. The tea dress was mid-calf and had a lowish neck, so it would have to do. The shawl was cream coloured with a gold fleck, and the beads I had bought in Murano were blue and gold—perfect.

“This man is a friend of your family, then, Miss Browning?” Miss Frobisher asked as I sat putting on my one good pair of stockings.

“I met him when I was staying in Venice with my aunt,” I replied, not looking up and not exactly answering the question. “He is from a most distinguished family. In fact his family home is one of those palaces we saw from the vaporetto.”

“My word. Quite a catch, then.”

I tried not to blush again, ignoring this statement. “You don’t mind being left alone with the girls for an evening?”

Miss Frobisher smiled. “I think I can say that we are quite safe within these austere walls. No, please go and enjoy yourself. The Lord knows we don’t have much opportunity for excitement these days. Especially a young woman like you deserves a night out.”

“Thank you.” I gave her a grateful smile. I hadn’t realized she had a softer side.

“And who knows?” Miss Frobisher said with a sly nod. “Something might come of it.”

At seven o’clock I made my way across the Ponte degli Scalzi to the vaporetto stop at the station and managed to squeeze aboard a Number One. “Signorina.” A man in workman’s overalls stepped aside to let me stand in a corner, out of the wind, where I would not be crushed. I gave him an appreciative smile. The sun was setting across the lagoon, tingeing the water with a pink glow. Seagulls were whirling above. Bells rang out from a distant church. I took a deep breath, trying to take it all in—almost wanting to trap it in a bottle, to bring out on rainy days at home when I sat in the silence of my mother’s drawing room.

At San Zaccaria I alighted and walked cautiously over the cobbles, unaccustomed to high-heeled shoes, in the direction of the Danieli Hotel. When I approached the pink marble building and stood outside, I almost lost my nerve. The doormen in their smart uniforms, elegantly dressed couples going in. This was a realm where I clearly didn’t belong. But I reminded myself that Leo was there, waiting for me. I could hardly believe it.

“It was meant to be,” I whispered. Out of the whole of Venice, he was at the Biennale at the same moment I was. It had to be fate. I took a deep breath and went up to the doors.

“Signorina?” A doorman stepped forward to intercept me. “You stay here?”