One kiss. ONE KISS. And suddenly we’re scandalizing all of Venice.
There was silence, broken by Venetia who said, “Mr. Rothbury heard me weeping and came to offer comfort, CaptainRizzi. That is all. I give my word as a gentlewoman that I had no knowledge of theft, no awareness of emeralds in the tiara, no criminal intent.”
“Your word as a gentlewoman?” Miss Bentley laughed suddenly—a sound that made Venetia’s skin crawl. “When your behavior tonight shows such disregard for proper conduct.”
Is she DRUNK? Has she lost her mind? What is happening?
Venetia stared. This was not the Miss Bentley she knew. Or thought she knew.
Edward’s hands clenched. “Madam, I won’t tolerate your implications about Miss Playford’s character.”
“What action do you propose, Mr. Rothbury?” Captain Rizzi inquired. “The facts speak for themselves. I applaud your efforts to play the gentleman at so late a stage, but if you’re so ready to champion Miss Playford on the basis of refuting aspersions upon her character, might I suggest your efforts would be better spent discovering the identity of whom you believe is the real thief.”
The real thief being Sofia. And possibly Miss Bentley. And possibly half of Venice, apparently.
Venetia saw the moment Edward realized her position was hopeless. His face went ashen. Any protest would deepen suspicion. The kiss that had been their moment of perfect connection had damned them both.
We finally confessed our feelings and immediately everything went to hell.
“Miss Playford,” Captain Rizzi said, clearly enjoying this far too much, “you must accompany me for questioning.”
Guards moved to flank her. Her composure cracked.
She was trapped in circumstantial evidence and social prejudice, her greatest happiness transformed into destruction.
Edward reached out, then stopped. Even comfort would look like conspiracy. The anguish in his eyes reflected her own devastation.
“Venetia,” he said quietly, her name carrying love and desperation and everything they couldn’t say.
“I know,” she whispered, understanding his unspoken apology—for failing to protect her, for their stolen moment becoming her condemnation, for everything going so spectacularly wrong.
I know you love me. I know you tried. I know this is all Sofia’s fault and possibly Miss Bentley’s and definitely not yours.
As Captain Rizzi escorted her from the balcony, she caught one last glimpse of Edward frozen among his accusers, his face a mask of controlled anguish. The man she loved was as trapped as she was.
The masquerade continued below—music and laughter a cruel counterpoint to the drama above. But for Venetia, the evening had become a nightmare with no visible dawn.
From first kiss to arrest in under half an hour.
Chapter Twenty
Eugenia hesitated inthe marble corridor, hands trembling with fury.
Deep breaths, she counseled herself.
The sight of dear Venetia being led away like a common criminal had stirred every protective instinct she possessed. But it was Catherine Bentley’s venomous performance that truly ignited her rage.
To witness such calculated cruelty from a woman she’d known for twenty years, to see Catherine’s obvious satisfaction at Venetia’s downfall, shook Eugenia’s faith in her own judgment. The Catherine she remembered had been sharp-tongued, certainly, but this display of malicious pleasure suggested depths of spite she’d never suspected.
Or Catherine has been compromised? By someone?
Lord Thornton emerged from the drawing room where he’d been speaking with agitated guests. His expression was grim as he took in Eugenia’s distress.
“My dear,” he said quietly, “you look ready to commit murder.”
“Not murder, though the thought occurred.” Eugenia took a steadying breath. “Thornton, you must speak with Catherine immediately. What she did to that poor child was unconscionable.”
“I witnessed the exchange. Catherine was…” he frowned as if he couldn’t reconcile his sister-in-law’s actions before settling upon, “extraordinarily harsh.”
