He helped me to my feet, and we walked together in silence, this time along the edge of the lagoon rather than through the wooded paths. We reached the boat, and he helped me into it. The motor started, and we roared away, much faster than we had come, leaving a great trail of wake behind us, the wind blowing in our faces.

In no time at all, we had reached the Grand Canal. Leo slowed to a respectable pace as we negotiated among late-night gondolas.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, as we neared the entrance to my pensione. “I thought I was being kind to a young girl, a visiting tourist. Giving her her first taste of excitement. But when I kissed you—I had to stop right then, or I knew I could not have stopped. I wanted you. And I think you wanted me too, is that right?”

I felt my cheeks burning and was glad that the darkness hid my blushes. Aunt Hortensia would expect me to say that such a conversation with a man was unthinkable. But for some reason it was easy to talk to Leo. I realized, with a mixture of shame and wonder, that I hadn’t wanted him to stop.

“I had no idea such feelings existed,” I said. “I thought being kissed would be nice.”

“And it wasn’t nice?”

“It was more than nice. It was . . . overwhelming. As if nothing else mattered in the world.”

“I think you will become an interesting woman one day,” he said. “So many girls—they are afraid if a man touches them. They think they will have to confess to their priest. At least you have the Church of England to thank that you are spared that.”

We were nearing the side wall of the pensione. A realization was now taking over—I would most likely never see him again.

“Maybe I shall find the boat is free tomorrow night,” he said. “We could go dancing if you put on the right sort of dress.”

“I don’t think I own the right sort of dress,” I said. “Not for the kind of places you would go.”

“I will come anyway. I wish to see you again. This is not goodbye, is it?”

“I hope not.”

He had cut the motor and eased the boat along the wall until it was below the window. Then he stood up, opening the shutters. He helped me to stand on the side of the boat, then I climbed, in a rather undignified fashion, into the room.

Aunt Hortensia was still asleep, snoring unattractively with her mouth open. I looked out and gave a thumbs up sign. He grinned, waved and steered the boat away. I kept watching until he had disappeared out into the Grand Canal. Then I undressed and got into bed, staring at the ceiling with a huge sigh of happiness.

CHAPTER 4

Juliet, Venice, May 1928

When I awoke in the morning, I wondered if I had dreamed the whole thing. Surely my friends at home wouldn’t believe me when I told them. I wished I had taken a snapshot of Leo to prove how absolutely stunning he was. If I saw him again tonight, I’d give him my address in England and ask him to send me a picture of himself. I realized I had already become bold and daring!