“Harsh?” Eugenia’s voice rose. “She systematically destroyed Venetia’s character with lies that would shame a fishwife! That girl is innocent, and Catherine knows it. Her behavior wasn’t justice—it was revenge.”
Or something worse. Something orchestrated.
Thornton’s expression grew troubled. “Revenge? Against what injury, do you suppose?”
“She raised concerns with Captain Rizzi, then pointed him toward Venetia at the very moment she and Mr. Rothbury were finally embracing. The very moment for which you and I were colluding!” She frowned. “Catherine twisted those circumstances into a criminal conspiracy because it suited her purposes.”
But whose purposes? Catherine’s? Or someone else’s?
“Eugenia, your loyalty does you credit, but I’m sure the situation can be resolved. We can all attest that Signorina Sofia loaned Miss Playford her tiara—”
“But can we attest that it already contained the stolen gems?” Eugenia’s voice rose. “No, and Catherine’s meddling made everything far worse. She’s been circling that poor girl like a vulture since we arrived, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Tonight she found it.”
Or tonight she was given it. By someone who knew exactly how to manipulate her.
Thornton seemed at a loss. “What possible motivation could Catherine have for incriminating Venetia?” His chest rose and fell as he tried to control his breathing, warring between decency and duty. “Catherine is family, and I’ve no doubt she believes she acted appropriately, though she occasionally speaks thoughtlessly.”
“She’s either a fool or being used as someone else’s tool.” Eugenia met his gaze. “Please—speak with her. Tell her to reconsider her statements. Publicly.”
Thornton nodded. “Of course. Though I fear Catherine’s opinion of Miss Playford was formed long before tonight.”
Eugenia swung round. “You’ve never said so before!What do you mean?”
“Nothing specific,” Thornton replied evasively. “Merely that Catherine has, in the past, expressed reservations about Miss Playford’s circumstances. About… unfairness in the entirety of such a fortune going to Miss Playford.”
Reservations that emerged when? After meeting the count?
Before Eugenia could press further, approaching footsteps announced Catherine’s arrival. She swept toward them with triumphant bearing, her mask of concern replaced by unmistakable satisfaction.
That’s not the look of someone acting on conscience. That’s victory.
“Eugenia, Thornton,” she said with false warmth, “what a dreadful evening. Though I confess I’m not entirely surprised.”
“Not surprised?” Eugenia had trouble controlling her voice. “A young woman we’ve known for months stands accused of theft, and you’re not surprised?”
Catherine’s smile was regretful. “Surely you can’t be so naïve as to believe sudden wealth guarantees virtue? Some people remain essentially common, regardless of circumstances.”
Common. She’s never used that word about Venetia before. Never.
“Common?” Thornton interjected with warning.
“Should I pretend Miss Playford’s behavior was anything other than what one might expect from someone of her background?”
Eugenia’s temper snapped. “Her background? What are you implying?”
“I’m stating plainly that Miss Playford has shown her true nature. The grasping creature who would steal jewelry and compromise herself with fortune hunters.”
“That’s a vile lie!” Eugenia’s voice was strangled. “Venetia Playford is one of the most genuinely kind young women I’ve encountered. You’ve always treated her as a friend. You’ve shown no indication you bore her ill will. If you had concerns, why not speak to us? Why tell Captain Rizzi—”
“How dare I speak truth?” Catherine’s laugh held no warmth. “Your charitable nature blinds you to what should be obvious.”
“And what should be obvious?” Thornton asked, his tone carrying a warning.
“That Miss Playford has been performing since inheriting her fortune. The grateful innocent overwhelmed by good fortune? The sweet girl needing guidance? Performance designed to make us overlook her inadequacies.”
Inadequacies. Since when does Catherine use such language?
Eugenia stared in growing horror. “Catherine, what’s possessed you to speak so cruelly of someone who’s shown you nothing but sweet deference?”
