Helena danced. At first she had not wanted to, but she soon found that gaiety of the evening had slowly seeped into her bones and now she felt like doing nothing else.
She was quite used to fabulous parties since arriving in Venice, but this was something else. The ballroom was magnificent. As the dancers twirled around the marble floor, the two elaborate golden chandeliers flickered with candlelight, casting the shadows of the dancers in their own spins and pirouettes. Helena flung her head back and laughed, marvelling at the gilded ceiling and the painting which formed its centrepiece. Jesus and his disciples, their carriages drawn by horses, riding over the clouds. Helena could not quite believe they weren’t natives, and this wasn’t their home. Venice to her seemed as close to enlightenment as one could imagine.
This was a world away from the squalor of The Argyll Rooms. At least the men in Venice hid their lust behind fancy clothes and wonderful traditions. She appreciated the pretence. Back in London no one made an effort. The men would turn up to the dancehall with grease on their chins and grope and her with their fat fingers and greedy eyes.
Paris was no better. There her procurer treat her no better than an animal. Monsieur Roubisse treated her no better than a dumb animal. She was bought and sold, but she rarely knew at what rate. Monsieur Roubisse kept her out of all decisions. Her life was his. She hated him for it. Her contemporaries had said she was lucky. She was tutored in mathematics, taught how to ride and speak in four tongues, but Monsieur Roubisse never did anything that didn’t benefit himself. Everything she learned increased her price. He helped her gain posture and poise, but only so that he could bleed a few more Francs from his desperate and filthy clientele.
As she spun, she made sure to take in the men of the room. The men of Venice were fast with rooms and rubies and she fully intended to find one capable of paying her a regular upkeep.
She locked eyes on the Doge. He did not seem to be having a good time. She had seen him flit in and out of parties before, holding court with gaggles of women, telling stories that initiated gales of laughter and fawning applause. He looked distant today, staring into the pack of dancers as though they were a funeral possession. She had never seen him alone before. She decided to spin and twirl her way towards him, she would never get a better chance to whisper something softly in his ear or arouse his attention. He look vulnerable. Vulnerability of the heart always leads to vulnerability of the wallet. Monsieur Roubisse had taught her that.
“Good afternoon Your Serenity” She said, holding her head still and trying to make sure he made eye contact with her.
“Good afternoon. I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before.”
“Madam Franco” she said, curtseying. She held her hand out for him to take. He gave it the most cursory of kisses. “May I ask, Your Serenity. You seem rather distant.”
“A very impertinent assumption, Madam Franco. I am merely watching my party.” The Doge seemed irritated. She had made a mistake coming over to talk to him. She had grown heady with excitement and overstepped her mark. She did not want to alienate the most powerful man in all of Venice, especially not this early in her career. She had spent months near the Rialto Bridge, trying to find a suitable sponsor. She had to use every bit of skill and all the guile she had to be invited to this particular party. She had only just arrived, she would not leave so quickly. She would not go back to Paris.
“I’m sorry Your Serenity, I did not mean to be impertinent, but I am also no fool. I have seen that look before, I have seen it in London and seen it in Paris. It is a look of boredom. A look of a man who has achieved everything he wants to and thinks there is no more to see or do.”
The Doge looked at her and she instantly panicked. She was holding her back up straight but she felt like she was collapsing inside. She was locked on this path now.
“You believe me to be wrong, young Lady? Is there more to see? Is there more to do?” She had his interest now. She tried to conceal her joy, but a glimpse of a smile crossed her face. She decided to forgive herself this professional transgression.
“Why, my most serene Prince. There is almost always more to see. And definitely more to do.” She held her hand out again and backed away slightly. Without hesitation he took her hand in his. His gloves were of the finest silk. She felt ashamed she had allowed her last suitor to buy her such poor quality gloves. She would not allow the next man that same leniency.
Helena lead the Doge into the middle of the ballroom and they started to dance, disappearing into the crowd.
