thing. I was suddenly conscious of the votives wrapped in paper, secreted in my purse. I slowed down. Giaconda matched my step.
‘Ready?’ she muttered. Without waiting for an answer she stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed, ‘I have lost my earring! Guards!’
She began to search the floors, bending over to reveal a large expanse of bosom. The guards stared and then exchanged a long look.
‘Can we help you, Signorina?’ asked one, stepping forward.
‘Sì!’ said Giaconda and grabbed his hand, clutching it to her bosom. ‘I have lost an earring! Do you know who gave it to me? How much it is worth?’
Two other guards came forward.
‘Who was it, Signorina?’
‘Signor Moronisini.’
Again, more looks were exchanged. They had heard the rumours then; that Signor Moronisini was informally the Doge Elect.
‘I must go back – but …’ She glanced at me.
‘I am all right, sister. I can go alone. Signor Nicolotti told me he would not be long.’
One of the guards sniggered. Another elbowed him.
‘Do you know which suite is his, Signorina?’ asked one of the young men.
‘That one?’ I asked, pointing to the abandoned rooms of the younger Prince. The guards laughed. ‘No,’ said the same one who spoke before. ‘It is the one closest to the Doge’s. You will be safe, Signorina. Do not worry.’
‘I am not worried for myself, only for my sister. You will help her find that which she has lost?’
Giaconda blinked back her tears. ‘You must. I have to find this – it was a gift from Signor Moronisini, the most generous of patrons, the most forgiving, except when it comes to carelessness.’ She gave a sob. ‘Will you help me, gallant sirs?’
If the guards had any doubts, it was the repetition of Signor Moronisini’s name that dispelled them. Four of them began to comb the floors. I took advantage of their distraction and calmly walked to Signor Nicolotti’s rooms, paused and, when I was sure no-one was looking, quickly crossed the corridor and slipped into the Doge’s suite. What the guards could not have known was that Signor Nicolotti had already gone home.
Baroque had told me all about the secret passages that laced the palazzo. There was one connecting the Doge’s rooms with the capo of the Council of Ten. Not that I would be using it tonight. I would be employing another route to escape down to the canal and to the relative safety of the Maleovellis’ gondola. First I had to be certain that the votives I’d prepared worked – that the Doge succumbed to their power.
I rested against the door and took stock of my surroundings. My heart was pounding in my ears. I could still hear Giaconda leading the men away.
Comprising four separate rooms, the Doge’s suite was enormous. I was in a lavish sitting room. Tapestries of the finest quality hung from the walls, paintings much like those that adorned the ballroom took up space as well. Gilded chairs, wooden tables, thick patterned rugs and beautiful ornaments set atop a long credenza and the mantelpiece over a blazing fire completed the room. What astonished me most was the number of candles – pillars, tapers and votives all burned, throwing their light about, making the entire space glow like a setting sun.
I kicked off my zoccoli and picked them up, crossing the room. The rugs were soothing under my aching feet. I opened one of the doors and found a cosy meeting room in which I’d once dined; another opened onto a smaller suite. I had never seen the Dogeressa’s area, but recognised the feminine qualities of the fittings. The last door I opened was the bedroom.
The bed was enormous, an old piece of furniture that, as I stroked its highly polished wood and began to extract, sang to me of triumph, tragedy and profound grief. The last was from the current Doge. The loss of his grandson, the defection of his sons and the infertility of his daughter affected him deeply. Around the bed and on the windowsills, more candles burned.
I moved towards the window, careful to stay in the shadows lest a guard on the battlements above spy me.
As Baroque had said, a small door to the right of the bed led to a dressing room. It was in here that I would hide. Tonight, of all nights, the Doge dismissed his servants and his valet, allowing them to indulge in some Carnivale revelry. He would disrobe himself and leave his clothes on the floor and chairs for his men