Chapter Twelve
“The masquerade ball.What will you wear?”
Venetia had barely given this a thought, due to her preoccupation with her promise to Signorina Sofia the following morning.
But now she found herself seated opposite Lady Townsend, who was examining a collection of fashion plates spread across the rosewood table between them in the water salon. The older woman’s eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that made Venetia immediately suspicious.
Was Lady Townsend orchestrating another of her elaborate romantic stratagems? Had Mr. Rothbury indicated disinterest?
Her heart clenched with disappointment at the thought—and with the worry that Lady Townsend might have lined up yet another wealthy, chinless peer for the masquerade.
“My dear girl,” Lady Townsend began, “on the off chance you haven’t yet turned your attention to the matter, I’ve been giving considerable thought to your costume for Count Morosini’s masquerade ball. The event presents such extraordinary opportunities for… shall we say, meaningful encounters… that we must ensure you’re attired to maximum advantage.”
Venetia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “To be truthful, Lady Townsend, I’m not entirely certain I shall attend. Such elaborate entertainments seem rather…” She searched for a diplomatic phrase. “Rather beyond my current inclinations.”
Although it was Mr. Rothbury who’d first told her of the ball, she’d subsequently heard that with Count Morosini’s feverish desire forIvanhoeto be at the halfway point of translation, Mr. Rothbury therefore might have to slave away at his work, and Venetia most certainly did not want to be matched with someone else Lady Townsend deemed suitable.
“Nonsense!” Lady Townsend declared. “You absolutely must attend. I have it on excellent authority that certain gentlemen”—here she fixed Venetia with a meaningful look—“are particularly anticipating your presence.”
She couldn’t be referring to Mr. Rothbury, though the thought of him caused a familiar flutter in Venetia’s chest, especially as she thought of tomorrow’s masquerade with Signorina Sofia. The whole overwhelm of it loomed in her thoughts like a gathering storm cloud.
“Now, a Byzantine empress would answer your needs, I think,” Lady Townsend continued, apparently oblivious to Venetia’s reservations. “All cloth of gold and precious jewels, with a magnificent headdress that will make you appear absolutely regal. No gentleman of sense could fail to be impressed by such a vision.”
“But, Lady Townsend, I really am not in the mood for making a match—”
“Nonsense!” Lady Townsend leaned back with a frown. “I made that mistake, and I’m not about to see you squander your opportunities when you’re in the prime of your life.”
Venetia didn’t know what to say. Misery tugged at her heartstrings. Would Mr. Rothbury ever find the courage to speak his mind when she saw him tomorrow? Or had Venetia completely misinterpreted his feelings?
Initially, she’d thought his enthusiasm for helping Signorina Sofia was because he’d formed a romantic attachment to the young woman, but now Venetia strongly suspected he was using hispromise to her as a means to spend time with Venetia herself.
Yet was it a good idea for Venetia to risk her heart if he ultimately never came good with a marriage proposal? He really might prove too morally upstanding for his own good—and hers.
Lady Townsend leaned forward conspiratorially. “What could be more fitting than for the gentleman of your dreams—your future husband—to encounter his very own empress at a masquerade ball?”
Heat crept up Venetia’s neck at Lady Townsend’s transparent machinations. Who did she have in mind? If she knew Mr. Rothbury wasn’t attending—and surely she did?—who else could she be thinking of?
“Lady Townsend, I am very content as I am.”
A complete lie.
Before Venetia was forced to back this up with more robust evidence, the sound of approaching footsteps in the marble corridor announced the arrival of another participant in their impromptu consultation.
“My dear ladies!” Miss Bentley appeared in the doorway, her expression even more self-satisfied than usual—which was saying something. “Forgive the interruption, but I have the most delightful news to share.” She advanced into the room with the air of someone bearing treasure. “I’ve just had the extraordinary good fortune to encounter the most charming gentleman in the palazzo’s entrance hall—a Count Theodore di Montefiore, recently arrived from Naples. When I learned he was seeking an introduction to English society, I naturally took it upon myself to extend our hospitality.”
Lady Townsend rose with polite interest that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I confess I’m not familiar with the name, Catherine. Is he Venetian nobility?”
“Neapolitan, actually,” Miss Bentley corrected with evident pleasure in her superior knowledge. “The family holds extensive properties in the south, and the count has been touring northern Italy to indulgehis cultural interests. He expressed particular fascination with English customs and society. Such a refined gentleman, and so elegantly outfitted!”
Venetia noted with some amusement Miss Bentley’s almost vulgar enthusiasm, which was obviously calculated to impress. Perhaps Miss Bentley’s own romantic prospects had been so thoroughly exhausted that she now sought vicarious satisfaction in arranging introductions for others.
Or perhaps she, herself, was interested in this Continental paragon.
“I hope you haven’t committed us to entertaining this stranger without proper references,” Lady Townsend said mildly. “Venice attracts all manner of adventurers, and one must be cautious about extending intimacy to unknown quantities.”
Miss Bentley’s expression darkened. “I am hardly naïve in such matters, Eugenia. The count carries letters of introduction from several prominent English families currently residing in Naples. I would hardly invite a person of questionable character into our circle.”
“Of course not,” Lady Townsend replied smoothly, though Venetia detected a note of skepticism beneath her diplomatic response. “Well then, if his credentials are satisfactory, I see no reason why we shouldn’t extend the courtesy due to a fellow traveler in foreign lands.”
