Free Masquerade by Fornasier Kylie Page A

on. I know you have a chest full of them.’ Marco thought for a moment. ‘Get her to lay with you. She seems to be the sort of woman who would only give herself to a man she loves.’
    Bastian smiled. This bet was just getting better and better. ‘How do you know that?’
    ‘I can tell just by looking at her. She will not let you have her until she is certain she loves you.’
    ‘But how will you know that I’ve slept with her?’
    Marco thought for a moment. ‘You must take her chemise as proof.’
    ‘How will her chemise prove anything? I also have a chest of chemises.’
    Marco groaned. ‘All women have their initials embroidered on their chemise, if you’ve ever bothered to look. It will prove you have been with her and only her.’
    Bastian took a sip of his wine. The bet was still too easy. Marco knew that Bastian could get half the women in a single convent to sleep with him, after they had taken their vows.
    But then, it was Marco’s style to set a bet that Bastian seemed sure to win. Then, when Marco won, the victory was all the more satisfying for him. And Marco was not known to play fair. Undoubtedly, he would find a way to convince Orelia of Bastian’s bad character. It was Marco’s cunning ways that made their bets all the more fun.
    ‘Unless you think you can’t win . . .’
    Bastian straightened his back. This was one bet he was going to win and he would enjoy every minute of it. ‘It’s a bet.’
    Stepping towards each other, Bastian and Marco shook hands. When they parted, Bastian raised his glass, his eyes wild with excitement. ‘To Carnevale!’



Angelique had decided at an early age that her beauty was her greatest asset, and like any asset it needed proper care and attention. This required long and elaborate beauty rituals, most of which were not at all pleasant.
    ‘What is this?’ asked Orelia, bringing the bowl of yellow liquid to her nose, before quickly putting it back down on the table.
    Anna stood behind Angelique and dipped a rod into the bowl. The sponge affixed to the end of it greedily soaked up the liquid. Angelique adjusted the broad-brimmed top-less hat upon her head, making sure that all her hair was pulled through the top and flowed over the brim, well away from her body. She leaned back in her wooden chair for extra reassurance.
    As Anna applied the wet liquid to her hair with the rod, Angelique realised she had not answered Orelia’s question. ‘Mmm . . . Anna, what’s in the solution?’ she asked, the tiniest smile on her lips.
    ‘Honey, oil, egg yolk, vine ash, barley straw, liquorice rind, boxwood sawdust, crushed sunflower seeds and urine,’ answered Anna.
    Orelia’s face twisted. ‘Urine?’
    Angelique looked out over the Canal Grande. From their rooftop terrace, the gondolas that filled the large waterway appeared no bigger than toy boats. A cool breeze moved around her. She always felt like she was on top of the world when she came up to the altana, which in turn made her feel a bit wise. ‘Beauty, like everything, comes at a cost.’
    ‘She also lays raw veal soaked in milk on her face for hours at a time,’ said Veronica, who was sitting a bit further away in an arm chair she’d had the servants carry up to the rooftop from the sitting room.
    ‘It’s worth every minute of it,’ said Angelique, touching a hand to her own cheek, feeling the soft smoothness of her skin. ‘Now, go back to reading your book, Veronica.’
    ‘Does that mix make your hair soft?’ asked Orelia, pointing to the bowl.
    ‘No, it’s to make it resemble fine gold. Most women have hairdressers use complicated dyes on their hair, but I prefer the old-fashioned method.’
    ‘I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that you dismissed your hairdresser a few weeks ago?’ said Veronica.
    Angelique stared icily at Veronica. ‘It has nothing to do with that. Pierre betrayed my trust and I’ve made sure he’ll never work in this city again. I won’t hire a new