The Last American Heiresses by Stephen Greco

Author:Stephen Greco [Greco, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2024-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

September 1951

Doris had, in fact, encountered Lady Arabella once before, at Count Beistegui’s legendary 1951 ball in Venice, at his sumptuous eighteenth-century Palazzo Labia. It began simply as a meeting in passing, not even an introduction.

Thousands of spectators lined the Grand Canal that night, jammed together in boats, and crowded on vaporetto landings and on private piers and balconies, watching the flotilla of guests proceed toward the blue-and-white-spiral–striped poles of the palazzo’s pier. Doris’s gondola was arriving at around ten p.m., the same time as dozens of other boats, including Lady Arabella’s private motoscafo. Under the Hollywood-level floodlighting that had been set up for the occasion to illuminate the palazzo’s façade and double-story portone, the great door onto the canal—and which also lit up a significant stretch of the Grand Canal itself—liveried servants were darting about frantically with lanterns, shouting, gesturing, trying to direct arriving water traffic as best they could, arranging the disembarkments from gondolas and motoscafi onto the stone steps in as orderly a fashion as possible, so that each party—indeed, each costume—could have its moment to be seen and admired by onlookers, which included the general press. It was a runway moment that would be repeated inside the palazzo at the entrance to the great ballroom, for invited guests and the Count’s selected photographers.

Amidst the commotion, Lady Arabella’s motoscafo, bearing her and three friends, all dressed alike as charmingly menacing “Phantoms of Venice,” in voluminous black satin capes with black tricorn hats, masks, and gloves, chanced to nudge itself in front of Doris’s boat, which had been approaching the pier first. As the motoscafo’s pilot was urgently commanded to go ahead and discharge his passengers immediately, Lady Arabella momentarily lowered her mask to flash a wordless frown of apology to her disguised fellow-guest in the other boat. Then, under a shower of photo flashes and with the help of a liveried arm, the lady resumed her grand progress toward the stone steps. After which Doris, costumed as an eighteenth-century gentleman, in a vivid blue justacorps, long vest, and breeches with matching mask and white wig, and her beau Joey Castro, as Papageno, the cheerful, flute-playing bird catcher from Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute, themselves disembarked and headed into the palazzo under their own shower of flashbulbs.

The glitch in precedence wasn’t necessarily a slight, Doris knew, and under the circumstances, it was perfectly understandable. And it was probable that in coming hours, such a lavishly mounted event would afford many more memorable moments than this near-slight. But Doris did take note of the moment, her American sense of fair play being put somewhat out of joint, before the usual oh-so-what feeling arose and she remembered Mlle. Renaud’s cheerful advice about always bringing your smile to the party. She knew that inside the palazzo, during the course of the evening, she would be seeing several friends, including Barbara, who was attending the ball with the Italian author, opera expert, and publicist, Count Lanfranco Rasponi.

The ball was actually more Barbara’s territory than her own, Doris knew.

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