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“That would be opium, sor.”
“Opium?!” Tony was staggered.
“Once opium’s been smuggled on a ship, the stink lingers forever. Ye can’t smell it now because we’ve had lots of hot, sunny days, but let the damp return, let it rain fer a couple o’ days, an’ the stink returns like that on a corpse.”
“A corpse?” Tony repeated, feeling for all the world like Savage’s mynah bird.
“Ye’ve no idea what stink is until ye’ve sailed on a slaver,”
Tony gulped and backed away. “From now on I’m blind and deaf, McSwine. I don’t want to hear these things.”
As she swung back and forth in her hammock her mind darted about like quicksilver. Adam Savage’s words came back to her. “Your soul isn’t black enough to take advantage of the weak and helpless, Lord Lamb.”
Tony shuddered. Surely he’d not blacken his soul with such unspeakable abominations? Smuggling was not a game of hiding a bit of tobacco or wool to avoid paying revenue tax, it was an abhorrent evil, an obscenity that left its foul taint on whoever stooped to such filth. Her mind refused to explore further. She would not—could not— believe it of him.
The next day she was surprised to find Mr. Baines knocking upon her cabin door. “The captain would like you to join him on the deck.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baines,” Tony said politely. He was the only member of the crew who seemed civilized. She smoothed back her dark hair and secured it with a thong, then made her way abovedecks.
Savage stood relaxed with his hands on the ship’s wheel. The sun bronzed him more each day.
“We’ll be in Venice tomorrow. This voyage up the Adriatic between Italy and the Dalmation Islands is one of the loveliest in the world. I didn’t want you to miss it.”
Suddenly she felt shy of him and averted her eyes to the beautiful shoreline. “The weather’s been exceeding good to us; no storms.”
Savage frowned. Was Tony still afraid of storms? “We are bound to run into a summer storm or two before our voyage is over, but there won’t be any gales. Nothing to be apprehensive about.”
Tony sensed he was trying to reassure her. She searched her mind for small talk. “We’ve made very good time.”
He nodded. “TheFlying Dragonwas a sound investment.” He changed the subject. “Venice is the sort of city you will love. It will simply take your breath away. It’s a city of splendor, steeped in antiquity; over a thousand years of antiquity. Venice is unique, you’ll not find its equal anywhere else on earth. It’s made up of hundreds of islands, crisscrossed by canals. The architecture is magnificent, all centuries old, some decaying, but each and every building is a gem, encrusted with carvings or mosaics.
“The ancient squares are called piazzas and there are hundreds of bridges, so you can explore the city on foot. The afternoons are long and languid, perfect for strolling down medieval alleyways and the stone courtyards of her Gothic houses and palazzos. Some of the businesses close in the afternoon for a siesta, but the streets endlessly fascinate. They are narrow, winding, and crowded, then suddenly a magnificent spacious square opens up before you with a church or a palazzo designed by Palladio. The fourteenth-century Redentore, derived from the Pantheon, is considered his masterpiece.”
“Wasn’t it built in gratitude for the end of the black plague?” Tony asked, caught up in the subject. “I’ve a book at home about some of the art treasures in the museums.”
“There’s a museum near San Barnaba with sumptuous trompe l’oeil ceilings, depicting gorgeous creatures in acts of love. There are paintings and frescoes of lovers and centaurs and mythological sculptures.”
“Are you going to buy paintings for Edenwood?”
“Christ, yes. I lust for a Canaletto or a Correggio.”
“I like Titian and Bellini,” Tony said dreamily.
“Carnival doesn’t start for a couple of days, so we’ll visit the glassworks and buy the mirrors you want. You’d do well to invest in some Venetian crystal, too, while you have the opportunity.”
“I—I’ve been thinking. When we get there I don’t want to sleep aboard. I’d like to stay in one of those fabulous Byzantine palazzos with marble floors and priceless art treasures.”
“Of course,” Savage agreed. “We’ll take rooms at a palace right in Piazza San Marcos with a view of the Grand Canal and the misty lagoon. If we stay on the south side, we’ll be able to see the domes of the Basilica and the Doges’ Palace. Its white marble arches look as if they are sculpted from spun sugar.”
Tony hesitated a moment. “We don’t have to stay at the same pallazzo, do we?”
Savage gave a bark of laughter. “So you think of me as a watchdog who’ll curtail your freedom! Stay wherever you wish. I’ll leave you to your own vices, providing you promise to indulge those vices when Carnival arrives.”
Savage’s eyes in the sunlight looked like blue flames. She held them for long moments. “I do so promise,” she vowed. Tony felt so warm, she knew she had to put space between herself and the object of her desire before she did something overtly feminine.
She silently promised herself she would abandon all restraint when she became Antonia for a night at the decadent Carnival of Venice. She leaned against the rail and turned her face up to the sun. A delicate shiver ran over her skin in spite of the sun’s kiss. Would she really have enough courage to plan and carry out his seduction?
Venice turned out to be all Adam Savage had said it would be, and more. The very air was charged with the romance of centuries. In whatever direction one looked lay artistic and architectural wonders. The first thing one saw was the great Venetian winged lion staring out to sea from his high column. Somewhere a man’s deep basso sang an aria that floated across the water. The setting sun touched the gilded Byzantine palaces and church domes.
