Mr. Rothbury stepped forward. “Signorina Sofia offered it. She said it would complement Miss Playford’s costume.”
“Perhaps she did. But it’s not the tiara itself that’s of interest. Not its outward appearance, at any rate.” Captain Rizzi took a step forward and indicated that Venetia was to hand it over.
With trembling hands, she gave it to him.
“You didn’t notice anything unusual about your tiara’s construction?”
She whipped her head up to face him. He was talking about the tiara? “Construction? I don’t understand.”
But within seconds of the captain inserting a tiny pin into what was suddenly revealed as a hinge, a section of the tiara sprang open, revealing two emerald earrings set off with tiny diamonds.
A secret compartment. The tiara had a secret compartment?
“These gems,” Captain Rizzi announced with the theatrical flourish of a man who’d been waiting all evening forthis moment, “which you had hidden in the tiara you wore tonight, match the Contessa di Barbarigo’s missing pendant.”
A collective gasp rang out. There were more guests witnessing her humiliation than Venetia had realized.
She stared at the emeralds, her mind reeling. Sofia’s loan was simply part of an elaborate deception. The insistence on the tiara, the knowledge of Venetia’s costume, the careful timing—all calculated to make her the perfect scapegoat.
“That’s impossible.” But even as she spoke, she grasped the trap’s perfection.
“The evidence is clear,” Captain Rizzi declared. “Stolen gems, concealed in jewelry you wore all evening.”
She felt Edward’s warmth as he moved closer against her side. “Captain, surely you can’t believe Miss Playford would wear stolen goods openly? She was lent the tiara by Signorina Sofia Morosini. In fact, the signorina gave it to me stating her desire that it complement Miss Playford’s costume. As she says herself, she’s been made a scapegoat. Look elsewhere for your criminal.”
Thank you, Edward. At least someone believes me.
Captain Rizzi glanced about him. “Several guests observed Miss Playford showing unusual interest in the contessa’s jewelry earlier.” His gaze alighted on Miss Bentley. “We merely followed up on certain… concerns.”
Venetia heard Edward’s intake of breath.
Concerns. MISS BENTLEY had concerns? Miss Bentley, who told everyone about my inheritance conditions?
So even her innocent admiration had been twisted into evidence. Every glance, every comment she’d made about the beautiful pieces around her now looked like criminal calculation.
I complimented someone’s necklace and now I’m a jewel thief?
“This is absurd,” Edward said, his anger clearly building. “Miss Playford is a young woman of the utmost integrity. I would be far from the only one to vouch for her.”
“And yet, what else would account for the discovery of jewels stolen from the contessa two weeks ago in the tiara worn by this young lady?” Captain Rizzi repeated coldly. He glanced once more at Miss Bentley, and the flare of self-righteousness that crossed that woman’s face made Venetia flame with hurt and shock.
No. Surely not. Miss Bentley couldn’t be part of this. Could she?
Edward turned in her direction, demanding quickly, “You’ve known Miss Playford for some time, Miss Bentley. You surely would pledge your support for her strong moral character.”
Captain Rizzi raked Miss Bentley with a somewhat ambiguous look before Venetia caught the flash of collusion, confirming her suspicions.
Oh God. She IS part of this. Miss Bentley is actually part of this.
When she remained silent, the captain asked, “You revealed your concerns, madame, when we communicated with you. I don’t think you would now vouch for the young lady.”
Trembling—though whether from genuine emotion or theatrical effect, Venetia could no longer tell—Miss Bentley thrust out her chin. “Miss Playford is, indeed, charming but… perhaps the transition from penniless ward to heiress came as too great a shock and challenged her moral foundations.”
Challenged my moral foundations? I kissed someone! Once! After months of agonizing restraint!
There was a collective gasp, Edward’s louder than anyone’s, before he said with deadly quiet, “Captain Rizzi, Miss Playford’s character isn’t subject to anyone’s assessment when it’s quite clear the real jewel thief is at large.”
“Indeed. But what of your own character, Mr. Rothbury? What should we make of a gentleman who compromises a lady as you did tonight?”
