In Bed With Lord Byron

suggested life had recently been hard on him. Yet this only served to give him a kind of desperate, boyish vulnerability that suddenly made me ache to reach out and stroke his face. Yes,
I thought, understanding then: he is irresistible. He has something far more powerful than looks; he has charisma. He made me want to love him right away.
    And yet.
    He wasn’t Anthony.
    ‘You’re beautiful,’ he groaned, catching my wrist between his fingers. ‘Why, you’re the most perfect maid I have ever seen.’
    ‘I’m not your maid,’ I replied, drawing back. ‘I have to go. Anthony’s getting married and there’s nothing I can about it and coming here isn’t really
going to help.’ I knew my words were a senseless babble but I didn’t care; I had to go.
    There was a loud banging on the door. I jumped. Casanova’s eyes mooned. I sensed trouble. Time to make a hasty exit, I thought.
    As I turned to summon the machine, Casanova pounced, taking hold of my arm and flinging me back on to the bed.
    ‘I . . .’ I gasped. ‘I thought your style was to woo slowly.’
    ‘Don’t toy with me.’ As I tried to rise, Casanova pushed me back down roughly, catching my wrists. ‘Who sent you? Did
they
send you?’
    ‘Nobody sent me. I’m innocent, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    The bangs were getting louder. I looked straight into Casanova’s eyes, begging him to believe me. He let me go, ran to the door and put his ear to the wood, listening hard. Then he turned
back to face me, sweat pouring down his face.
    ‘I escaped prison last night,’ he said. ‘And this inn was supposed to be a safe hiding place!’
    ‘Why were you in prison?’ I cried, though I had a sneaky feeling that the question ought to be:
Who did you seduce that you shouldn’t have?
    ‘For no reason! It was utterly unjust! They stuck me beneath the Doge’s Palace for a year! A year!’ He paced the room, pushing open the window, glancing down at the drop.
‘We shall have to escape through here!’
    The banging at the door turned into crashes. Pieces of wood splintered and flew off in all directions.
    ‘Quick!’ I cried. ‘No – not through the window! Here!’
    Casanova turned to me, his eyes desperate. I grabbed his arm and yanked him to the centre of the room. As the time machine appeared, he let out a shocked gasp. The door caved in, men piled into
the room . . . but we were away, flying through centuries, shell-shocked but safe.
    ii) The end of the time machine
    Back in my hotel room, the time machine landed with a groan, a cough and a clatter. This time not just one door fell off, but two. Steam rose in a black mushroom cloud from the
front. This didn’t look good.
    ‘Oh God!’ I cried. ‘I think it’s on its last legs.’
    ‘
Che cosa state facendo?
’ Casanova cried, dazed. He came up to me, gripping my shoulders, his eyes filled with terror. ‘
Dove sono? Siete una spia? Chi li ha
trasmessi?
’
    ‘OK – OK, I’m sorry –
here
.’ I ran to the machine and pulled out the speaking serums. There was only one vial left. So if Casanova drank it, that was it . .
.
    I turned to him, torn between selfishness and kindness. Still, I thought uneasily, I can always write to Dr Schwartzman, and ask him to make some more potions. I can tell him all about my
adventures . . .
    But if he knows it really works, he might want it back
, a voice pointed out. I ignored it, nobly proffering the potion to Casanova. He eyed it up, perhaps fearing I was part of a
conspiracy to poison him.
    ‘Look. Here.’ I took a sip to assure him it was safe and then handed it back. Casanova downed it in one go.
    ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘what the hell was that?’
    I let out a giggle. His accent was pure New York. Well – I guess we were on American soil, so it made sense.
    ‘Where the hell are we?’ he asked, shaking his head, still utterly confused. ‘I think this might be heaven – am I right?’
    ‘Er, not quite. We’re in the future. We’re in 2005. I’m sorry, I know this might be a bit of a shock to you . . . but the main thing is, you’re safe here. Nobody is
going to put you in jail. Look – I suggest we both have a drink.’
    I opened up the minibar, but it was rather empty after all the drinking I’d been doing. And I really didn’t want to be sober.
    Then my mobile rang again. I waited for it to switch to voicemail, then listened to the message Kerry had left. ‘Look, Lucy, we can’t wait any longer, so