Page 3 of Vengeance in Venice (Murder in Moonlight #6)

A lthough Solomon’s overriding concern was his wife’s safety, he rather relished Giusti’s plan of fighting their way into her abductor’s palazzo, tossing any guards into the canal.

A rare, savage part of him wanted to punch and punish for what had been done to Constance, even though his thinking self knew it would not compensate her for her fear, for whatever pain had been inflicted…

He could not bear that he had left her unprotected. And the red mists of shame and fury would not save her.

Never had it been so hard to summon his much-vaunted self-discipline.

“That is the back door to the Palazzo Savelli,” Giusti murmured in his ear. They were gliding unlit, close in to the side of the waterway. “The wide one there. Wait, it is opening!”

Alvise stilled the boat. The palazzo door opened almost directly onto the canal, and from the sudden lights emanating from it, Solomon could make out hooks in the wall used as moorings. Two boats were already tied up there. The man who emerged stepped nonchalantly into one of them.

Solomon’s fists clenched. “Savelli?” he whispered.

Giusti shook his head. “One of his boatmen.”

A woman emerged, and Solomon’s heart leapt.

Giusti drew a sharp breath. “Is that her?”

“No.” She was not Constance shaped. She did not move like Constance, even an injured Constance, and the boatman handed her into the vessel much too familiarly.

“Maidservant,” Giusti pronounced as Alvise pushed them onward, gently, casually nearer. “Perhaps Signora Savelli is going out secretly.”

The canal was not a particularly wide one, but even so, Alvise guided their boat down the middle in an unthreatening manner that clearly did not disturb the Savelli boatman. He slowed, allowing them to peer through the wide-open door.

“Stop,” Solomon said, for it was Constance who stood framed in the doorway, her head held high, her posture rigid. Her bright hair glowed like burned gold in the blaze of lights. Behind her, a man hovered.

Solomon gripped the side of the boat. Alvise swung sharply toward the first of the mooring rings, and Constance turned her head from the other boat to his. Her lips parted.

The man moved out from behind her.

“Savelli,” breathed Giusti.

Savelli gestured toward the vessel containing the maid and his own boatman. Constance did not even look at him. Her gaze was locked on Solomon’s face. She lifted her arms, curiously like a child, and his heart threatened to break. He reached up for her and she stepped into his hold.

“Go,” Solomon told Alvise.

Giusti seemed about to object, but Alvise obeyed. Solomon held his wife to his heart, absorbing her fear, her relief, and his own. Over her shoulder, he met the gaze of the man responsible.

“He let me go,” Constance mumbled, almost reluctantly.

He took you in the first place. This is not over .

But it was for now. She was safe in his arms as their boat sped down the canal, past Savelli and his vessel, and through the magic of Venice by night. As if nothing had happened to disturb the city’s serenity.

“He was sending me home,” Constance said, clutching the fabric of Solomon’s coat. “How did you find me?”

“Signor Giusti here knew where you would be.”

Giusti grinned. “We came to mount a rescue, signora, but you appear to have rescued yourself.”

“She does that,” Solomon said with pride, though he was afraid his voice cracked. He pushed her gently onto the cushioned bench and sat beside her, holding both her hands and searching her face for signs of fear or injury. “What happened?”

“It was so quick, I had no chance. Almost as soon as Alvise left me to go to your aid, two men seized me and dragged me down the narrow passage between the buildings. People must have seen, Solomon, but no one helped.”

“The city is afraid,” Giusti said sadly. “And suspicious. We pretend—perhaps your captors are police, so we don’t wish to be involved. Or you are an errant wife who deserves a husband’s discipline. I am ashamed. And I am so sorry for my part in your experience.”

Constance, though she held very tightly to Solomon’s hands, seemed already to be recovering her usual spirits. “You appear to have come off worse than I, signor. My captor was also responsible for the attack on you. He said you have something of his.”

Giusti’s cut lips twisted. “He has something of mine.”

“He thought I was your lover.”

Rather to Solomon’s surprise, Giusti actually blushed.

“That is his shame, and mine, most certainly not yours. Forgive us. At least he is not so lost to honor that he tried to keep you.” He switched his gaze to Solomon.

“My home is nearby. Allow your boatman to set me down at the next steps. But perhaps I may call upon you tomorrow to express my thanks?”

“There is no need,” Solomon said. “But we will be happy to receive you. We are at the Palazzo Zulian—do you know it?”

“In Cannaregio? Yes, a good place, quiet and yet close to everything you need.”

Warily, Solomon scanned the side of the canal while Alvise held the boat steady.

Constance said, “Is there someone at home to care for your wounds, Signor Giusti? Are you safe?”

Giusti laughed. “Tonight, I have never been safer. It is Savelli who is now awaiting my reply. Forgive us for mixing you up in our quarrels. Goodnight.”

He sprang up the steps with an airy wave and vanished into the night.

Beside Solomon, Constance relaxed and leaned into him. They glided on through the city in silence, save for the gentle lapping of the water and the splash of Alvise’s oar.

*

“It took me by surprise,” Constance admitted when they were finally alone in her bedchamber, and she had been bathed and dressed in a soft nightgown.

Solomon had seen the bruises on her arms, but though his lips tightened, he made no comment.

He was waiting for her to tell him, and for that, she was grateful.

“It felt like a nightmare,” she said, sitting on the bed while he watched her from the shuttered window, “coming from nowhere out of our perfect idyll. And now it is already faded, a nightmare I haven’t forgotten but one I know has not harmed me.

Cannot harm me. The bruises are just from the men’s hold—they had to be harsh because I struggled so much.

But beyond that, they did not hurt me. My host was furious with them—and not just for taking the wrong woman.

He was appalled that they had gagged me. ”

“What did he expect?” Solomon said, trying to keep the savagery from his voice. “If he abducts a lady from the street—”

“To be fair, I don’t believe he instructed them to do so.

They acted on their own initiative because they thought I had sent you and Alvise to help Signor Giusti.

Don’t look like that, Sol. I can’t deny I was frightened, but he was perfectly civil.

The worst part was not even knowing if you were alive. ”

“I was afraid I had lost you,” Solomon said hoarsely. “Forever.”

Like her, he had been a lonely but self-sufficient person before they met.

This connection between them, this love that had bound them so inextricably, had taken them both by surprise, and since their wedding, they had grasped the happiness with both hands in the foolish assumption that nothing could threaten it now.

Well, there were threats. But nothing could break the bond.

She rose and went to him, taking his hand and kissing it. “You and I know better than that. Come to bed, Solomon.”

They lay together in a loose, gentle embrace. Perhaps it was sheer relief at their safety, but with their bruises salved and the comfort of his presence, she felt curiously at peace.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, just when she thought he was falling asleep.

She shook her head, taking his face between her hands in the darkness.

“No. Not unless you do. It was just another adventure. I love this city, but it would not be natural if it didn’t have a darker side.

This Savelli is not a cruel man. He loves his wife, and in his own way, he is as intriguing as your Giusti.

I think we have a task for Silver and Grey. To find a way to end their feud.”

“I have always loved your optimism.”

She smiled, her lips against his skin. “There will be no fee, of course, so if we fail, we lose nothing.”

“And no one in England needs to know.”

She knew from his voice that he was finally smiling, too. She had found, she thought, the perfect way to get over the ugliness of their fright. They would use it to do some good and enjoy the new adventure.

At least, that was the plan.

*

The events of the evening had appalled and shamed Angelo Savelli.

If anything could have pulled him up short, shown him how out of proportion this feud had grown in his head and his heart, it was this unforgivable abduction of another man’s frightened wife.

A wife who loved her husband—they had been on their damned wedding journey!

Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the connecting door to his wife’s room. Never had he yearned so badly to be with her. Or known so completely that he was unworthy.

What had been thinking to go after Giusti like that?

To hire those damned mercenaries in the first place?

Villains and thugs, all of them, especially Ugo and Pellini, who had brought the Englishwoman.

What sort of a man had he become that they should even imagine he would tolerate such behavior, let alone applaud it, make use of it?

Even if she had been Giusti’s woman, there would have been no excuse for it. As it was…

He had brought this upon himself, losing his perspective over Giusti and Elena. He had hired Pellini and the others largely to protect his wife from Giusti’s machinations and had gone on the offensive first. A warning that he had to obey, to hand over the jewels.

Or had he just wanted someone to punch Giusti, if he could not do it himself? Stupid. He knew Giusti. Threats like that would only make him dig his heels in harder.