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Prologue

January 1819

Twilight had fallen over Venice, to plunge the loom The sound of unfamiliar masculine voices made seventeen-year-old Leila pause at the top of the stairs There were three h she couldn't make out the words, the rhythlish

She peered down over the elaborately carved balustrade As her father eed from his study, one of the e point, Leila could see only the top of the stranger's head, shiht of the open study doorway His voice was an easy, friendly murmur, siness she heard in his tones made her anxious Hastily she retreated round the corner and hurried back down the hall to her sitting room

With shaking hands she took out her sketchbook and forced herself to focus on copying the intricate ork of the writing desk It was the only way to take heron the floor below She certainly couldn't help her father—if he needed help, and perhaps he didn't He ht simply be vexed by the interruption at teatime In any case, she knew very well she was supposed to keep out of sight Papa's work for the govern he needed was to be worrying about her

And so, left to her usual coeburton awaited the arrival of the tea tray, sadly aware that today, just like yesterday and the day before, it would contain only service for one

The old hair was Ismal Delvina, twenty-two years old He had recently arrived in Venice after a e fro froelic countenance, however, evinced only the sweetest amiability

He hadn't noticed the girl above, but his servant, Risto, had heard the swish of skirts and looked up an instant before the girl retreated

As they followed Jonas Bridgeburton into the study, Risto softly mentioned the discovery to his master The master's infallible instincts did the rest

Is host "Shall I send irl's identity?" he asked, eburton start "Or would you be so kind as to spare him the trouble?"

"I haven't the least idea—"

"I pray you will not tax our patience by pretending there is no girl, or that she's merely a servant," Ismal set their ant in the first place"

Bridgeburton glanced fro down froht, to the dark-featured countenance of the s frolishman turned back to their master "For God's sake," he croaked, "she's only a child You can't—you won't—"

"In short, she is your child," said Iseburton's untidy desk "A most unwise father Given your activities, you should have kept the girl as far from you as possible"

"I did—she was—but the money ran out I had to take her out of school You don't understand She doesn't know anything She thinks—" Bridgeburton's panicked gaze shot round the study, frolared at Isent—a hero She's no good to you If you let these filthy bastards near her, I'll tell you nothing"

Islance at Risto As the latter ed at hilishman back

Iseburton's desk "You will not alaroes to administer laudanum, that is all—merely to ensure there will be no interruptions while we complete our business You will not make any unpleasantness, I hope I prefer not to irl an orphan—but Risto and Mehret to say If you find it difficult to cooperate quickly and fully, I fear it will prove impossible to soothe their turbulent spirits"

Still perusing the letter, Ishters can be so very troublesome Yet so valuable, are they not?"

Leila re—and the prompt onset of sickness There was , but it wasn't Papa's And it couldn't calht of the dreae had stopped and she had stumbled out and fallen to her knees Then, even after the retching stopped, she had not wanted to get up again She had wanted only to stay there and die

She didn't ree, but she ain, it was to the saan to believe she was truly conscious, because she was thinking: Italy's roads were nothing like the se wheels were surely made of stone or iron, and the Venetians had not yet invented carriage springs

Leila smiled weakly becausechuckle, as though she'd told a joke Then theback at last, are we?"

Her cheek was pressed to wool When she opened her eyes she saasn't a blanket, but a ht motion made her so dizzy that she clutched at the cloak to keep fro Belatedly she realized she couldn't possibly fall She sat on the man's lap, securely cradled in his arms

She was vaguely aware that it wasn't right to be there, but everything in the whole world rong Since she had no idea what else to do, Leila began to cry

He pushed a large, crisp handkerchief into her shaking hands "Laudanu if you're not used to it"

Between sobs, she y

He pressed her closer and patted her back and let her sob until she was done with it By that tier

"L-laudanuain "B-but I d-didn't t-take any I n-never—"

"It doesn't last forever, I assure you" He smoothed her damp hair back from her face "In a very short while, we'll stop at an inn, and you'll wash your face and have soain"

She didn't want to ask the question She was afraid of the answer But she ree anything

"Wh-where is P-Papa?"

His sot himself into serious trouble"

She wanted to close her eyes and lay her head on his shoulder again and pretend it was a bad drea, and her ners in the hall belowher father's edgy voicethe littleas she carried in the tea traythe odd taste of the tea Then dizziness

and falling

And she understood, without having to be told Thosecarriage with an Englishman she'd never seen before?

But he was holding her hand and urging her to be brave Leila made herself listen while he explained

He'd come to deliver a friend's note to Papa and arrived just as a badly beaten servant had staggered out of the palazzo The servant had hardly finished explaining how foreigners had invaded the house and killed the

"We ed to take the brute by surprise," the man went on, "and learned he'd been sent back for you"

"Because I saw them" Leila's heart thudded They'd come back to kill her

He squeezed her hand "It's all right now We're going away They'll never find you"

"But the police—someone must—"

"Best not"

The sharpness in his tone made her look up

"I scarcely knew your father," he said "But froot hily doubt the Venetian police would trouble thelish female" He paused "I was told you had no other connections in Venice"

She sed "Or anywhere There was only…Papa" Her voice broke

He was dead, killed in the line of duty, just as she'd dreaded ever since he'd told her about his secret work for England She wanted to be brave, and proud of him, for he'd died in a noble cause, but the tears fell anyway She couldn't help grieving, and she couldn't help feeling utterly, hopelessly alone She had no one now

"Not to worry," the azed into her tear-stained face "Hoould you like to go to Paris?"

The carriage's interior was glooh to er than she'd assu dark eyesto be sick again

"P-Paris," she echoed "N-nohy?"