Before Venetia could formulate a response, their moment of intimate conversation was interrupted by an unexpected commotion from the direction they’d come. Raised voices, speaking rapid Italian, echoed off the canal walls, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps on stone.
Of course. Because nothing can ever be simple.
“What is this—” Mr. Rothbury began, but his words were cut short as a figure burst around the corner of the walkway, running at full speed directly toward them.
The man—a gondolier judging by his costume—appeared to be fleeing from some pursuit, his face flushed with panic. Behind him, additional voices suggested he was indeed being chased.
“Scusi, scusi!” the man gasped as he approached, his eyes wide with terror. Without ceremony, he grasped Edward’s arm. “You help,signor?Per favore?Bad men come, want money, I have nothing!”
Well, that’s what Venetia’s rudimentary Italian translated.
Smoothly, Mr. Rothbury positioned himself between Venetia and the agitated stranger, asking in Italian, “What’s happened?”
Before the gondolier could respond, the sound of pursuing footsteps grew louder, and three rough-looking men rounded the corner. Their clothing marked them as laborers from the Venetian docks. The cudgels they carried suggested their intentions were far from peaceful.
“There he is!” one of them shouted. “The thief who took our week’s wages!”
Venetia was sufficiently well versed in the Italian language to catch the gist. She saw Mr. Rothbury’s hand move instinctively to where a gentleman might carry a sword, though of course he bore no weapon on what was supposed to be a simple afternoon’s outing.
The narrow walkway offered little room for maneuvering, while the canal on one side and the palazzo’s sheer wall on the other provided no avenue for escape.
“Venetia,” he said quietly, using her given name without conscious thought, “stay behind me. Whatever happens, do not—”
He called me Venetia. In the middle of what might be our imminent demise, that’s oddly thrilling.
But his words were interrupted as the fleeing gondolier, apparently realizing the narrow walkway offered no further escape route, made a desperate decision. With a muttered prayer to what sounded like several different saints, he leaped directly into the canal, disappearing beneath the murky water with a splash that sent ripples racing toward both banks.
The pursuing men reached their position seconds later, their faces dark with anger and frustration as the man they pursued began to swim away. The leader, a burly man whose arms were scarred and knotted with muscle, fixed Edward with a suspicious glare.
“Inglese?” he demanded, apparently recognizing Mr. Rothbury’s nationalityfrom his clothing.
Mr. Rothbury nodded carefully. “Is there some assistance we might provide?”
The man’s expression remained hostile as his gaze shifted to take in Venetia’s elaborate costume. Something in his eyes suggested he was reassessing the situation, perhaps wondering whether these well-dressed foreigners might represent a more profitable target than the vanished gondolier.
Oh no. Oh, this is bad.
“Pretty lady,” he said in broken English, taking a step toward Venetia which Mr. Rothbury blocked. “Nice jewels. Maybe she share with poor working men?”
Sofia’s jewels.
“We’re merely tourists,” said Mr. Rothbury, consolidating his position in front of Venetia, “with no involvement in whatever dispute you had with that fellow.”
The leader’s smile held no warmth whatsoever. “Tourists with money, yes? Rich English, always have money. You give some, we let you walk away. Is good bargain, no?”
Venetia saw Mr. Rothbury stiffen. He was outnumbered and at a disadvantage, with the canal on one side and no means of escape except past the three ruffians.
Her throat closed up, and she could utter no sound.
This is not how I imagined this afternoon going. Not at all.
Would she feel the grasping of calloused hands about her neck as they tried to prize Sofia’s necklace from her person? And how would she explain its loss?
That’s if they got out of this situation at all.
Chapter Fourteen
“Gentlemen.”
