Suddenly she realized that the barge was overtaking them. At the back stood the man, almost dry now from the effects of the wind, which blew his dark hair straight back from his face.

It was a powerful face, Justine realized, slightly saturnine, yet still with the quality of humor. The chin was stubborn, the nose slightly hooked. Not a conventionally handsome face, but one that would be remembered when pretty boys were forgotten.

He turned his head to give her that marvelous grin again, and she had a strange feeling that he had caught up especially for her.

She mouthed, "Are you all right?" But then remembered that he probably didn't speak English.

But it seemed that he did, for he raised a thumb and nodded.

"È Riccardo," Guido yelled. The man in the barge waved at him, then sped up and passed them.

Justine, who was sitting behind Guido and Dulcie, called, "You know him?"

"Yes, he's -" the rest of the words were drowned out by the noise of the motor.

Then she forgot everything as the boat slowed and they entered Venice, gliding along narrow waterways between ancient buildings in a quiet rhythm unlike the harried tempo of most cities she knew, until they finally reached the Grand Canal. Here was the Palazzo Calvani, where Guido lived with his uncle, Count Calvani.

The count was away until the next day, so Guido entertained them alone. At dinner he was charming company, but he was shooed away when Maria, the dressmaker, arrived late in the evening with Dulcie's wedding gown.

"I came out to Venice for one fitting a few weeks back," Dulcie told Justine, "but this is the moment of truth. Let's go upstairs."

The dress was an extravagant confection in white satin and lace, with a long, wide skirt and floor-length veil. Justine snapped madly with her digital camera as Dulcie turned in front of the mirror.

When the dressmaker had gone, Justine got out her laptop and began downloading the pictures from the camera. Dulcie gasped when she saw them on the screen.