Chapter 3

D ear Diary, I did manage to nap after all. We had an early start this morning from Milan, and travelling is quite tiring. Mary has chosen a lovely green silk dress for me to wear, and it will go beautifully with the pearl and emerald necklace that Granny gave me for my birthday.

Diary, I do hope that not everyone tonight is old. Lady Bainbridge seems like a dear; she even reminds me of Granny somewhat. However, the opportunities for adventure, to say nothing of romance, will be extremely limited if I cannot mingle with people closer to my age.

Comparing the elderly Lady Bainbridge to the dowager countess caused Melody to put down her pen and reflect on the even older woman left behind in London. As excited as Melody had been to travel to Europe, her one concern was leaving the older Lady Pembroke, "Granny." As much as her mind and wit were as rapier sharp as ever, there was no doubt that she was physically quite frail, and Melody worried that something might happen while she was gone.

For her part, the dowager's answer when Melody had cautiously mentioned her concerns was entirely predictable, "I have no plans to die anytime soon. Do not waste a moment of your young life worrying about my longevity. Go and see the world and have your adventures. There is an excellent chance that I will still be here when you return. I do not trust Asquith at all, and from what I hear, there is a movement afoot to take away power from the House of Lords. Whatever next? Now is not the time for someone as influential as I still am to up and die. "

Melody shook her head, determined not to dwell on what might happen while she was gone. Granny was right; she had adventures ahead of her, and Melody intended to embrace them wholeheartedly.

Finally, dressed in her new Worth gown, wearing her new necklace and with her thick, wavy auburn hair expertly styled by Mary, Melody stood and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall in her room.

"What do you think, Mary?" she asked, spinning around.

"You look beautiful, Miss Melody. You do the family proud." Mary paused and then said in a quieter, cautionary tone, "Just be sure that your behaviour tonight matches your outfit."

"What do you mean by that?" Melody challenged, though she already had a sense of what Mary meant.

"Just that you look like a sophisticated, young woman of society. Don't ruin the effect by being a hoyden."

Melody laughed, "Hoyden? Where on earth did you find that word? Was that something that Granny called me?" This had, in fact, been the case, so Mary said nothing. Melody continued, "Do not worry so, Mary. My behaviour will be all that it should be."

Mary's expression indicated scepticism, but she said kindly, "I know that you long for adventures, but that is not at odds with being accepted into the best circles in Venetian society. The dowager countess would be the first to lecture you on its value."

"Ha! Granny? All she ever talks about is how mind-numbingly dull the aristocracy is. Since she moved back into Chesterton House, she has used this as an excuse to refuse all society invitations, saying that if she is too infirm to live alone, she cannot then be expected to spend her last precious few months listening to the likes of Lady Willis drone on. Of course, she does somehow find the strength to continue to meet with her Ladies of KB."

Melody smirked as she said this last part; it had long been one of the dowager's many eccentricities that she dined monthly with a colourful group of madams she had met during an early solo investigation. One of her conditions for agreeing to move to Chesterton House had been that she would be allowed to host lunch there when her turn came around. While Tabitha had met the Ladies of KB and understood the charm they held for the old woman, nevertheless, the prospect of the Earl of Pembroke hosting such a group had given her serious pause. Of course, the dowager had her way in the end.

A few minutes later, Melody entered the palazzo's sala, the main formal receiving room on the first floor. Rat had been the first one down that evening and was standing with a glass of prosecco in his hand by the room's floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the Grand Canal. This room was even grander than the salotto, if that were possible. It was also longer, stretching most of the length of the palazzo. Rat had no idea how many guests were expected that evening, but certainly the room could accommodate a large group easily.

Intellectually, Rat knew that his little sister was a grown woman now. However, memories of those early years of caring for and protecting Melody were still firmly lodged in the deepest parts of his heart and soul. It was hard to see her as an independent woman, ready and eager to take on the world. Despite all this, when Melody first entered the room, Rat was taken aback; when had she transformed from a gangly little girl in pinafore dresses into this beautiful, radiant, and sophisticated young woman?

In her new Worth gown, with her hair gathered up high and just a few tendrils artfully loose around her neck, for the first time, Rat saw the woman Melody was becoming instead of Melly, the child. Rat's heart was bursting with pride, even as it clenched at the realisation that his sister was ready for her adventures and that his role as protector was unwanted and probably no longer needed. The weight of this realisation sat heavily with him. Melody caught him looking at her and smiled shyly, eager for her brother's approval.

Melody came further into the room and joined Rat by the windows. "You look beautiful, Melody," Rat said, holding out his hands. His sister noticed that he didn't use her nickname. Melody was both happy at this evidence of Rat's acceptance that she was no longer a child and a little sad at this inevitable change in their relationship. Even though they had lived in different houses for the past fourteen years, Rat and Melody had seen each other almost daily. As much as he could be an annoying, bossy, overly protective older brother, Melody loved him more than anyone else in the world. She barely remembered their time living on the streets of Whitechapel, but what she did remember was how safe her brother had managed to make her feel.

Putting her hands into Rat's outstretched ones, Melody said, "And you look very handsome and debonair, Matthew." They were not Rat and Melly anymore, at least to the rest of the world.

The next thirty minutes were a whirlwind of introductions and handshaking. While Lady Bainbridge seemed to have invited many of the great and good of Venetian high society, some foreigners were also in attendance. Italian was being spoken all around Rat, though he would hear some occasional smatterings of English and, in one instance, French. Rat could understand very little of the Italian being spoken and he suspected that many of those present were speaking in the Venetian dialect.

"Hard to understand what they're all saying, is it not?" A cultured, English voice said. Looking towards the source of the words, Rat saw a young man, perhaps a few years older than himself, who couldn't look more English; a fair complexion with floppy, reddish blonde hair that the man had made an effort to oil back, but which still fell into his eyes. The face was open, and the pale blue eyes, framed by reddish lashes, crinkled as the man smiled.

"Xander Ashby," the man said, holding out a hand. "I work at the British consulate."

"Matthew Sandworth," Rat said, shaking the hand. "I am chaperoning my sister." As he said this, Rat pointed towards Melody, who was deep in conversation with Lady Bainbridge and a patrician-looking man with silver hair and an impressive Roman nose.

"That is your sister?" Xander asked eagerly. "I noticed her as soon as I entered the room and have been waiting for an opportunity to be introduced. She is quite the most beautiful woman here."

Rat wasn't sure how he felt about this stranger discussing his sister in such a manner. On the other hand, Rat's overall impression of Xander was of a friendly, overly excited puppy. It was hard to imagine the young man taking liberties with Melody.

"Then let me introduce you," Rat said.

He took his new friend over to Melody and made the introduction. "Mr Xander Ashby, let me introduce my sister, Miss Melody Chesterton." Xander looked momentarily confused by the different surname to the one Rat had used to introduce himself, but then seemed to shake himself out of it and took Melody's outstretched hand.

"Miss Chesterton, what a great pleasure," the young man gushed. He so reminded Rat of a friendly, over-eager dog, perhaps a Labrador Retriever, that he half expected Xander's tongue to loll out of his mouth and for him to start panting in anticipation.

For her part, Melody observed the young man with amusement. She knew that she was pretty, perhaps even very pretty, and was used to the attention of young men charmed by her bright blue eyes, rosebud lips, and abundant wavy, auburn hair. Even so, Xander Ashby's eagerness stood out.

Retrieving her hand, Melody tried to control the twitching of her lips and said, "Likewise, Mr Ashby. Do you live in Venice?"

"I have been here for a year," Xander explained. "I work for Mr Burrows, His Majesty's Consul in Venice." Melody looked at the young man, who couldn't have been more than twenty-five and certainly seemed to lack a certain gravitas. It was hard to imagine such a man helping with important diplomatic work. Though, she reflected, it was likely that a consul had a large team of people helping him, and it was doubtful that this particular man was entrusted with the most important missions of The British Empire .

Xander continued, "Is this your first visit to Venice, Miss Chesterton?"

"It is my first overseas trip," Melody admitted.

"Well, you chose the right place to begin your travels. Venice is the most beautiful of cities." Xander paused, then added shyly, "It would be my honour to be your tour guide."

Xander Ashby was quite attractive if one looked past the overeagerness. There were certainly worse things than being escorted around Venice by a handsome young admirer. "That would be delightful, Mr Ashby," Melody replied. As she answered, Melody glanced over at Rat; would he object to this stranger squiring his sister around Venice? Had he envisioned this role for himself?

As it happened, Xander Ashby had done Rat an enormous favour; he had a job to do, and one of his concerns had been how he might balance this with chaperoning Melody. As protective as Rat was towards his sister, he seriously doubted that Ashby would take any liberties. If Mary accompanied the pair, then Xander Ashby seemed to be as benign a male companion as Rat was likely to find. Certainly, as a guest of Lady Bainbridge's, it was reasonable to assume Ashby was a good sort. Rat made a mental note to double-check this assumption with their hostess later. Nevertheless, he saw no reason for concern and graced Melody with an approving smile.

"Then, perhaps I might be so bold as to suggest that we begin with the St Mark's Square and its Basilica tomorrow?"

Melody knew that there was no real reason to rush; she would have more than enough time to see all of Venice's glories. Nevertheless, she was naturally impatient and found it hard to resist such an offer.

Melody's back was towards the door, and she couldn't see any late arrivals. Just as she was about to accept Xander's offer, Melody saw his expression change. In a moment, it went from an eager-to-please Labrador Retriever to an alert, ready-to-attack German Shepherd. Melody was sure she was imagining it, but it even seemed as if his ears had perked up. Turning to see what on earth could account for such an extreme change, Melody found herself face-to-face with Conte Alessandro Foscari. My my, but she had forgotten just how mesmerising those green eyes were. He was also taller than she remembered.

"Miss Chesterton, what a delightful surprise to run into you so soon and looking so ravishing," Alessandro murmured in a voice that was sultry enough to make Melody blush and Rat glare.

"Conte Foscari," Melody stammered. She had never dealt with the flirtations of such a suave, older man.

"Alessandro. I insist that you call me Alessandro."

Rat stepped in immediately, "Conte Foscari, I am not sure what the etiquette is in Italy, but in Britain, a young lady of good character and family does not address a gentleman she does not know by his given name."

Not taking his eyes off Melody, Alessandro took her hand and said, "Then we shall just have to ensure that Miss Chesterton gets to know me. Well." With that, he lifted her hand to his mouth, bowed over it, and kissed it. Xander had taken her hand mere minutes before, but this felt entirely different. Even though the conte had performed a similar gesture when they had first met, that had been quite formal and perfunctory. This time, his lips lingered on her skin while he looked up into her eyes, almost hypnotising her with his gaze. Melody gave a little shiver. Alessandro noticed and stood, keeping hold of her hand and smiling with almost feline satisfaction.

Melody had forgotten that she had been in the middle of a conversation, forgotten even that she was at a party, in Venice. All she knew was that the most handsome, charming man she had ever met was holding her hand. Her reverie was interrupted abruptly, "Foscari, I should have known you'd worm your way into an invitation," Xander Ashby spat.

Finally, breaking his eye contact with Melody and releasing her hand, Alessandro looked up at the belligerent Englishman and replied, "Ashby. Burrows could not come and sent his lapdog in his place? "

The fact that Xander really did remind her of a puppy dog caused Melody to almost giggle at this put-down. As if to confirm the similarity, Xander growled, "Lady Bainbridge is an Englishwoman, and I am a countryman of hers, unlike some mongrel half-breed."

Alessandro laughed, "If you believe that you will wound me with your pathetic attempts at insults, you are sorely mistaken. Such slurs are no more than I heard throughout my years at Eton from other jumped-up sons of men with titles but no fortune to maintain them. You remind me of them. Though, from what I understand, Ashby, your father has neither fortune nor title these days. It was unfortunate that his uncle remarried and now has a new heir."

This airing of dirty laundry, while entertaining to a degree, was also far from appropriate at such a gathering and in front of strangers; Melody could only imagine what Granny would say about such an uncouth display. As if this suddenly occurred to Xander and Alessandro simultaneously, they turned towards Melody, almost at the same time, and began apologising.

"My dear Miss Chesterton, I am mortified that you had to witness this," Xander began.

"Indeed, my dear Miss Chesterton, I am ashamed that I allowed myself to be goaded in such a way, and by such a man," Alessandro proclaimed, holding his hands over his heart to emphasise how heartfelt such shame was.

Rat couldn't remember when he had last witnessed such a juvenile display by two grown men and was appalled by them both. Taking his sister's elbow firmly in his hand, he nodded at both men and said, "I believe there is someone Lady Bainbridge wishes to introduce Melody to."

As he led her towards the fireplace where Lady Bainbridge was now ensconced in a comfortable armchair, deep in discussion with another very old woman, Melody asked, "Who does Lady Bainbridge wish me to meet?"

"No one, but I could not allow you to stand there while those two – well, I was going to say gentlemen, but I don't think either one deserves that title – those two men preened their feathers and strutted around each other."

Melody laughed, "I found it quite amusing. Although, they are both lucky that Granny was not here to witness that."

"Indeed!" Rat agreed.