Free The Venetian Venture by Suzette A. Hill

ridicule them. Like herself he developed, even at that early age, a nice line in childish invective which he would practise assiduously not only on other children but also on his sister.
    To her fury he also developed the knack of turning cartwheels considerably better than her own. Sometimes too he would raid her money box, helping himself liberally to the sixpences and threepenny-bits and even to the boiled sweets occasionally secreted there; and with a face of cherubic innocence would blame such depredations upon the dog. Two of her mother’s friends kept exclaiming how attractive the little boy was growing (ridiculous,
she
was the pretty one!) and he would flutter his stupid lashes and give a sickening smirk … There were no two ways about it: dear little Edward was turning into a tiresome little bastard. It was not actually a term she knew at that stage, but the sentiments behind it settled deep in her psyche; and the phrase, once learnt, was applied frequently and with varying degrees of force and embellishment.
    Edward too had found his sibling irksome. It was the patronage he couldn’t bear: the put-downs, the snubs, the tone of dismissive mockery when he got his sums right, swam a length at the swimming baths or when, years later, he was found canoodling with the girl next door (shrieks of caustic laughter). She was stingy too. She got twice his amount of pocket money but never offered him a penny; instead would berate him for being extravagant while shespent her own shillings on sherbet and lollipops which she would make a point of guzzling in front of him. Mean and arrogant that’s what she had been!
    And yet, and yet. Despite such hostilities there remained between brother and sister a bond of fragile intimacy, a relationship based less on affection than on a tacit recognition of a shared affinity – an affinity defined by a firm sense of their own worth and a disregard for most things not pertaining to their personal ends. For Edward the end was money; for Lucia status and social prestige. The two ends are not incompatible and often go hand in hand … as indeed, metaphorically, did the siblings when circumstances suited. On the whole the current circumstances did suit and Edward’s stay at Lucia’s flat, initially at least, was congenial to both.
     
    ‘So this Sir Fenton,’ Lucia had asked him, ‘is he a knight or a baronet?’
    Edward replied that he really hadn’t thought about it and that provided the chap had the dosh, which he obviously had, he couldn’t care less.
    ‘Oh I agree,’ she had laughed, ‘when push comes to shove dosh takes precedence. Still, a decent title doesn’t come amiss. You had better introduce me when I’m next in London. Who knows, I might like him. Is there a wife?’
    ‘I rather suspect not. And actually, Lucia, I don’t think he would care a fig if you did like him, it’s
me
he likes. Likes the cut of my jib, as the old bore said. I tell you, if I play my cards right I could become quite useful to him and have him eating out of my hand. There may be other areas of lucrative possibility. So don’t come pushing your nose in, sister dear!’
    She laughed again. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, not if he’s like that; my interest has vanished instantly. You’d better be careful about what else he has in mind! Anyway tell me a bit more about this book and what he wants you to do.’
    Edward outlined his brief. ‘So you see on the face of things it’s fairly straightforward. He’s given me the name of a bookseller to contact who he thinks might know something and can point me in the right direction. Can’t think of his name at the moment but it begins with a P and—’
    ‘Pacelli? Not that old rogue!’ she snorted. ‘He’s a greasy piece of work. Still I suppose he may be useful. But he’ll want money – won’t do you any free favours!’
    ‘A man after my own heart,’ Edward said.
    ‘Well I trust it all works out for you. But frankly with the size of your