Secrets of the Eternal Rose 01: Venom by Fiona Paul

Author:Fiona Paul
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781101591529
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2012-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

“Personal garments are

the greatest expression of one’s

standing in society, but the body

is the greatest expression of one’s soul.

Both are temporary trappings.”

—THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE

fourteen

Cass opened her mouth but couldn’t immediately respond. Dubois showed no signs of having spent the previous night dancing and drinking. It was like he’d sprung straight out of her thoughts and onto Agnese’s velvet portego chair.

“Mi-mi dispiace, Aunt Agnese,” Cass finally stammered, inching away from Dubois toward the corridor that led to her room. “I…I went for a walk. I guess I lost track of time.” Maybe if she stayed far enough away, Agnese wouldn’t realize the state of disarray of her dress. Had Dubois somehow recognized her at the ball? Why else would he be here, on San Domenico, in her aunt’s portego?

Agnese’s mouth dropped open, causing a second chin to form in the loose, doughy skin of her throat. “You speak of time as though it were an unruly canine. What you really lost track of, Cassandra, were your manners, and meanwhile the entire house has been turned upside down looking for you.” The old woman clucked her tongue. “You need always consider how your actions might affect others.” She shook her head as if Cass were beyond hope. “And speaking of manners, come and greet Signor Dubois. He’s one of the most influential men in all of Venice, you know.” Agnese turned a smile on Dubois.

Reluctantly, Cass approached the Frenchman. His servants looked away as Dubois took her hand and kissed it. “My pleasure,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. His smile was dazzling, and his teeth were white and straight.

Blushing, Cass dipped into a shallow curtsy, trying to hold her cloak around her soggy skirts. “It’s nice to see you, Signore.”

Agnese squinted. Her gnarled fingers reached out to pluck a piece of lint from Cass’s top skirt. “Why do you look like a drowned chicken?” The old woman leaned in closer. “And what is that on your face? Is it blood?”

Blood from her hand. Possibly paint. Who knew? Cass thought quickly. “I went out on the rocks by the shoreline and a burst of surf hit me. I slipped and fell. I guess I must have scratched my face.”

Agnese frowned so deeply that her silver eyebrows met in the middle of her face. For a second, Cass could swear she saw something flash across Agnese’s face—anger? Concern? But just as quickly, it was gone.

“Siena,” Agnese barked. The lady’s maid scampered out from the dining room, where she had no doubt been eavesdropping. She stood just inside the doorway, pale and wide eyed like a goat ready for slaughter. “See to my niece immediately,” Agnese said.

“Yes, Signora.” Siena dipped into a low bow and then headed toward the back of the villa.

Cass followed close behind her, stopping at the threshold of the portego to curtsy once more in Dubois’s general direction.

Agnese pursed her lips into a hard line. This look was easy to determine: We’ll talk about your behavior later.

As she slipped out of the room, she heard Dubois say, “You’re smart to take a firm hand with her.

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