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walking stick and a greatcoat, which made Jane feel her own grime all the more. Signor Sanuto was shaking hands with his clerk, laughing, even. She let her breath out slowly and tried again with the man assigned to them. “Please tell me what we might do to be allowed to leave here.”
    “Well. You are without your papers, but I might overlook that irregularity, for certain considerations.”
    Vincent ground his teeth audibly together, proving that he was at least a little awake. In English, he said, “I thought we had left the pirates at sea.”
    Jane put her hand on Vincent’s arm, though his words exactly matched her feelings. “As we are without funds, would you accept a promissory note?”
    “Here we return again to the fact that you are unknowns in our city.” He shrugged and held up his hands, as though to say that the decision was not in his control.
    Signor Sanuto put on his greatcoat, on the point of departing. Jane knew one person in this city. She stood. “Signor Sanuto!”
    He turned round at his name and frowned; then he limped across the vast room toward her. His infirmity seemed more pronounced on dry land.
    Vincent sat up. “Jane, we cannot ask him for money.”
    “I do not intend to.”
    The signore came within speaking distance. “Lady Vincent. Is something the matter?”
    “I do hate to impose, again, but our papers were on the ship and this gentleman needs someone to vouch for our identity.”
    Very quietly, he said, “Why are my friends being detained after the trial we endured today?”
    “Signor Sanuto, sir! I was only—” Flushing, the clerk cleared his throat and drew a paper toward him. He began to scribble upon it with sudden focus.
    As he did so, the signore turned to Jane and Vincent. “My apologies. I did not expect that you would have such difficulties. I believe we have the confusion straightened out.”
    The clerk cleared his throat again. “Sir David? May I ask you to sign a few papers, please?” His attitude was so markedly improved that Jane had to wonder with whom they had allied themselves.
    Vincent excused himself and went to the desk, leaning heavily against it. Jane took his place at Sanuto’s side. “I owe you thanks once again.”
    Signor Sanuto smiled. For a moment he reminded Jane of her father when he presented her with a gift. “It pleases me to be able to help. Speaking of which…” He leaned down to whisper. “Your husband is not well, yes?”
    Jane shook her head. “I’m afraid he is concussed…”
    He grimaced in understanding, put a finger to his lips and straightened.
    Vincent returned, folding a paper and placing it in his coat pocket. The circles of fatigue under his eyes were deep, and he seemed as though he were barely able to stand. “Our entry papers are in order. Thank you, sir.”
    Jane placed her hand on Vincent’s arm to steady him. “Yes, thank you.”
    “It is the least I could do.” Signor Sanuto looked down and tapped the floor with his walking stick. “May I do more? Would you stay with me at Ca’ Sanuto? The truth is that my family is away, and our palazzo is too large for one person. After the events of today … Well, I would not like to be alone tonight. If you do not mind going to Murano, that is. It is a small town, another island like Venice, but just a short gondola ride away.”
    Jane did not hesitate or pause to consult Vincent. She did not want to chance a trip to Lord Byron’s home only to be turned away, not with Vincent in the state he was in. It would be different if they had funds and could seek a hotel, but they had no resources at all. “Thank you. That is very kind.”
    Vincent made the small whine that sounded as though he were imperfectly holding his breath, which so often indicated that he was conflicted. It was clear that his pride did not like this solution, but he did not object. “Yes, thank you. In fact, we have business in Murano.”
    “Good. I have but one favour to ask.”
    “Of