Chapter 1
Venice, 1818
Sophie Reynard stood on one of the many small bridges that spanned the multitude of canals in Venice. She didn’t know if this one had a name but doubted it was anything special. Wrapping her shawl around her tighter to keep out the cool February wind, she glanced down the dark water way. Music sounded from one of the grander homes slowly sinking into the canal. For some odd reason the music comforted her and reminded her of home.
London.
She planned to depart Venice in three days to return home after a two-month absence. A part of her missed London while another part of her would love to stay in Venice a few more weeks. It wasn’t as if her friends would have missed her much. Now that they all had their husbands and children, her friends were constantly busy. Of course, most of their happiness was her doing.
Sophie had matched all her friends with her skills as a medium. Even her half brother, Anthony, was now married to one of her dearest friends.
While Sophie had no one.
After matching Anthony and Victoria, Sophie had scurried away from London. Afraid that she had lost her friends, afraid that she would never find a love of her own. But more than anything, frightened of spending the rest of her life alone like most of her life had been thus far. Something had told her to come to Venice.
There must be a reason why.
After almost a month under sail and then a month in Venice, she had no indication of a man entering her life. Nothing that had happened so far made her believe this trip had been anything but a lovely holiday. Perhaps that’s all it was supposed to be.
Leaning far over the balustrade, she stared down at the cold, murky water, looking for some sign that she should stay here longer. Another disheartening thought crossed her mind, perhaps she wasn’t meant to find love.
But she wanted love.
All her life she’d wanted someone to love her, not just care for her because her father paid their salary. She supposed in her own way, her mother loved her. But lovers always took precedence over a daughter. Even tonight. While Sophie was outside alone, her mother had gone to a party in hopes of enticing a new man. Nothing much had changed in twenty-six years.
Sophie continued to stare at the water, concentrating completely, hoping to see a clue of what she should do with her life. Nothing came to her but frustration. What had caused that sensation two months ago, prompting her to leave her home and friends for a trip she could ill afford?
There had to be a reason. But as she gazed down, trying to let her mind free itself of inhibitions, the only thing she saw was water. Focusing all her energies on the water, she scarcely heard the sound of children’s voices getting louder, coming closer. She ignored their noise, preferring to envisage what she hoped would be a sign of her future. She felt a quick jolt.
Suddenly the water she’d been staring at was getting closer.
And closer!
Oh, dear God!
She was falling into the canal!
No wonder she couldn’t see anyone in her future. She didn’t have one! Releasing a loud shriek, she fell and hit her head on something before the water and darkness swallowed her.
“What the bloody hell?” Nicholas looked up as a figure plummeted from the bridge, hit his gondola, and slipped into the water.
“I no swim, signore,” his gondolier said as the small boat rocked from the wake.
Nicholas tore off his jacket and jumped in the water, wondering how a man who made his life on the water couldn’t swim. The frigid dark water made finding her difficult but luckily her skirts had caught on something, holding her in place.
He ripped her skirt and then grabbed onto her waist. Pulling her up through the cold water almost took his breath away. But he continued, determined not to die in some stinking canal in Venice where no one would ever find him and Emma would never know what happened to him.
As Nicholas broke the surface, Vincenzo heaved the wet woman into the boat. Nicholas thrust himself over the side of the rocking gondola. He turned his attention on the unconscious woman lying on the bottom of the boat.
“Vincenzo, take me home quickly,” he ordered in Italian, and then sank to his knees.
Nicholas remembered what his father had taught him about drowning and pressed all his weight on that spot just below where her ribs came together. After pressing down three times, she coughed up the water.
Vincenzo docked the boat as the woman continued to bring up more water and gasp for air. A servant opened the door. Nicholas gently pic