Sofia tossed her golden head, her voice carrying a hard edge that jarred with her angelic appearance. “We women must look after one another, though she required some time to see the light of duty, didn’t she, Mr. Rothbury?” She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, her speculative gaze so knowing that Edward felt heat flood his cheeks. “Or perhaps you employed some gentlemanly persuasion to encourage her change of heart?”
“I am not so ungentlemanly as to employ persuasion of any sort,” Edward objected, though he was beginning to wonder if “gentlemanly” was code for “spectacularly foolish.”
“You describe Miss Playford as possessing such maidenly sensibilities that she could hardly have reached such a decision independently, without benefit of your… persuasive influence.” Sofia’s laughter held a mocking quality that made Edward’s skin crawl. “So you must thank me, Mr. Rothbury. My desires may well prove the key to discovering your own.”
Edward was thoroughly unaccustomed to such bold discourse. The casual mention of desire—his own unrequited longing, and Sofia’s brazen appetites—caused uncomfortable warmth to flood through him.
When had this conversation taken such an alarming turn?
“Miss Playford could marry any gentleman of her choosing,” he said carefully, trying to steer them back to safer waters. “Yet her elevation hasn’t caused her to forget the trials she endured when she was penniless and subject to others’ whims. I consider it an act of extraordinary generosity that she chooses to donate her time to your cause.”
“So you insinuate I’m an ungrateful wretch?” Sofia shrugged with magnificent indifference. “Ah well, let us not quarrel over such trifles. I am what circumstances have made me—a young woman whose love won’t be sanctioned by the grandfather whocontrols my life, my fortune, and my future.” Her expression hardened momentarily before resuming its mask of youthful petulance. “I’m grateful to Miss Playford for condescending to assist my cause, considering her elevated status as one of England’s wealthiest heiresses. You may convey my appreciation using whatever flowery phrases you deem appropriate.”
Flowery phrases. Right. “Dear Miss Playford, Sofia says thanks but also sort of implied you’re a self-absorbed heiress who took too long to see reason.”
She turned back to her sketching, adding, “And you may also inform her that my next music lesson is scheduled for noon the day after tomorrow. Provided she hasn’t experienced another attack of maidenly scruples, I’d be greatly obliged if she’d meet me at the San Tomà landing stage at noon. I shall provide an appropriate costume for our little masquerade.”
Edward studied Sofia’s profile as she bent over her drawing, noting the calculating set of her features that seemed distinctly at odds with her professed romantic desperation. Something in her manner—a certain coldness beneath the surface charm—stirred unease.
How had he not noticed this before? Well, he had, but he’d been too busy mooning over Venetia to pay proper attention to the increasingly suspicious young woman he was helping.
“Signorina,” he said slowly, “I hope you understand the considerable risk Miss Playford is assuming on your behalf. Should this deception be discovered—”
“Oh, Mr. Rothbury,” Sofia interrupted with a tinkling laugh that now sounded distinctly artificial, “you worry unnecessarily. What could possibly go wrong with such a simple substitution? I shall slip away for a few precious hours with my Paolo, and Miss Playford will enjoy a pleasant gondola ride through Venice’s most picturesque canals. With you, if you choose.” She smiled brightly. “Really, when you consider it properly, I’m offering you both a delightful afternoon’s entertainment.”
Her casual dismissal of potential consequences troubled Edward deeply. Either Sofia was far more naïve than he’d credited, or she wasfar more calculating.
Neither possibility offered much comfort as he contemplated the web of deception he’d helped weave around the woman he loved.
“Very well,” he said at last, though doubt gnawed at his conscience like a particularly persistent rodent. “I shall convey your arrangements to Miss Playford. But I must insist that should any complication arise—”
“Nothing will arise, dear Mr. Rothbury,” Sofia said, not bothering to look up from her sketch. “Nothing that cannot be easily managed, I assure you.”
Edward had the distinct impression that Sofia’s definition of “easily managed” and his own might differ considerably.
He was also beginning to suspect that he’d made a terrible mistake.
Several terrible mistakes, actually.
But it was too late to back out now.
Chapter Ten
Early the followingmorning, Eugenia found Venetia taking tea while staring disconsolately through the window like a heroine in a tragic opera.
She hesitated, trying to frame the right response. “The Grand Canal has so many moods, Miss Playford, that I don’t wonder you’re mesmerized. And I’m astonished at how well the talented Signorina Sofia has captured it in her painting.” She paused, studying the girl’s dejected posture. “But I observe you look in poor spirits this morning. Perhaps they’ll be cheered if I show you the canvas Mr. Rothbury delivered last night.”
“I have no wish to see it, thank you, Lady Townsend,” said her young protégé with downcast eyes that would have done credit to a gothic novel. “Mr. Rothbury has asked me to assist this young lady in a romantic adventure, and his eager insistence is quite at odds with my reservations.”
Romantic adventure?Eugenia was taken aback. “What exactly has he asked you to do?”
Even her agile imagination—which was considerable—couldn’t conceive what such a romantic adventure might constitute. Or how Mr. Rothbury, Signorina Sofia, and Miss Playford might all be involved.
Miss Playford sighed and put down her teacup with a gentle clatter.Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand—she’d clearly been crying—Eugenia’s heart gave a little leap with a mixture of hope and distress.
Could Miss Playford feel such disappointment—jealousy, perhaps—at Mr. Rothbury’s request? But then, with a surge of alarm, she wondered if Mr. Rothbury had turned his attention toward courting Signorina Sofia, believing Miss Playford’s fortune put her out of contention.
That would be spectacularly disappointing. But then, Signorina Sofia’s status placed her just as above the young man as Miss Playford. No, Signorina Sofia did not pose a threat, she finally reassured herself.
