Was that what had been hidden beneath that absolute conviction that she would never be fulfilling her grandmother’s dearest wish of settling down and having babies? Suspicion on Jendi’s part might also explain that charged glance directed at her granddaughter, which he’d inadvertently provoked.
Charlotte certainly seemed bothered by something. As soon as possible after Richard moved on to another table, she excused herself, muttering about needing a bathroom. He saw her ask a waiter for directions and then head out a door that led to a long balcony. Presumably the bathrooms opened off the balcony to one side of the restaurant.
Which meant that Nico could also excuse himself and head in that direction. He could catch Charlotte before she came back into the dining room and just check that he wasn’t causing even more trouble for her, although exactly how to broach the subject of her sexuality in a sensitive manner was entirely beyond him at the moment.
The balcony ran right along the canal side of the restaurant. It was quiet out here with the added darkness that came from the still water of the canal. Nico didn’t need to use the facilities so he paced back and forth, waiting what seemed an interminably long time for Charlotte to reappear. What was she doing in there? Twisting her hair back into some impossibly tight ‘hairdo’? He hoped not.
A gondola drifted past below with just a single light making the ornate brass ornament on the prow of the boat gleam. A couple sat, wrapped in blankets against the cold and silent as they gazed in wonder at the magic of touring this city at night with only the ripple of the boat to disturb the serenity.
The tap of high heels on stone disturbed the moment for Nico. He turned and Charlotte’s step faltered.
‘What are you doing out here?’
‘Waiting for you.’
The only light now that the gondola had passed came from the fairy lights of the restaurant and a small Christmas tree that was being used to reveal where the door to the bathrooms was. Silver light that made Charlotte’s dress shine and cast a spotlight on the way the fabric clung to her body and revealed noticeable curves. It also caught matching strands in her hair. It would look golden in the sunshine, Nico thought. Chameleon hair. He could imagine her eyes could create that illusion too. Maybe they would take on a blue hue under a summer sky. Or when she was happy?
Right now they were a stormy, slate grey.
‘Why?’
She sounded nervous and added to that impression by pushing her fingers through her hair. The gesture ruffled the loose waves. It was a supremely feminine movement. Confusing, given what Nico was there intending to find out. The reminder made him shake off his focus on how unexpectedly attractive Charlotte was looking. He cleared his throat.
‘I…um…It seems to be going well. Your nonna is happy.’
‘Mmm.’ He could see Charlotte swallow. A ripple that ran the length of her elegant neck. ‘Too happy, maybe.’
‘Is there such a thing? Especially at a time like this?’
Charlotte sighed. ‘She is happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so…so contented.’
‘There you go, then. It’s been a good thing to do. A reprieve from thinking about less happy things. One that you may be able to use for some time.’
Charlotte looked away, watching the tail end of the gondola as it turned a corner. ‘But I didn’t think things through. I thought other people would just think you were sharing our table for dinner.’ Her voice rose and the words sped up a little, revealing how unsettled she was. ‘I didn’t expect to start a rumour that will follow me back to St Margaret’s. I have no idea what I’m going to do about that.’
‘You don’t have to do anything.’ Nico paused, trying to select his words carefully. ‘Unless it’s going to cause personal distress?’
She frowned at him. ‘What kind of personal distress?’
‘Well…you might have someone in your life that wouldn’t be happy to know about this…this illusion you’re creating.’
‘I don’t…’ She was trying to process his meaning. Then she made an impatient sound. ‘I told you I wasn’t in a relationship.’
‘Not with Mr Right,’ he murmured.
There was a moment’s dead silence and then Charlotte’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my God…you think I’m a—’ An incredulous huff broke her words. ‘Are you serious?’ And then she turned away but not before Nico had seen a fierce sparkle in her eyes.
Oh…Dio…He’d really put his foot in it now, hadn’t he? Was she about to start crying again?
No matter. He had come prepared. He reached for the neatly pressed handkerchief he’d pushed into his jacket pocket just before he’d left his room. He pulled it out and, as he did so, something glinted in the light and bounced on the stones with an audible ping.
Charlotte turned her head. ‘What was that?’
‘Nothing important.’ Nico knew what it was. It had been weighing his pocket down earlier today. But then he’d forgotten all about it after he’d arrived at the symposium. After he’d been swept along by listening to the story Charlotte had told them. Weirdly, it hadn’t occurred to him to think about it again all day. Or remember to take it out of his pocket.
His grandmother’s ring. The one his father had given his mother. The one she’d left behind when she’d broken the marriage and Nico’s true family. Maybe it was better if it got left behind at the bottom of a Venetian canal. Drowned and lost. Like his belief in true love and marriage and happy families for ever had been lost so many years ago.
But no. This ring was the only thing his father had left him as his inheritance. The only link he could touch that went back to his early childhood. It was important. Nico ignored Charlotte and his gaze raked the rough stones as he searched for what he’d dropped. It must have come out of his pocket at speed, propelled by being caught in the folds of the handkerchief. Had it already bounced irretrievably into the waters of the canal?
Like Charlotte’s laptop?
No. There it was, precariously balanced right beside a stone balustrade on the very edge of the balcony. He would have to be careful not to nudge it over the edge, he realised as he stooped. Trying to slow his movement, Nico dropped to one knee and reached for the ring.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Nico could see the ripple of the long, silver dress as Charlotte stepped closer. He sighed and held the object up to show her.
‘It’s my grandmother’s ring,’ he said heavily. ‘It’s a long story…’
He wasn’t going to get a chance to tell her any of it, however. A startling shriek cut through the night air.
‘Charlotte! Nico! Oh, my goodness…’ Lady Geraldine had come out through the restaurant doors and was standing there, her hands clasped in front of her as though in prayer. ‘Is this…? Are you…? Oh…how romantic. A proposal. In Venice, of all places…’
It took a long moment for the full horror to sink in but, yes…here he was, on one knee. Kneeling in front of a beautiful woman with a backdrop of a Venetian canal, holding up what was obviously an engagement ring in his hand.
He bought a fraction of time by getting to his feet somewhat awkwardly. He caught the panicked look in Charlotte’s eyes. They were going to have to confess now, weren’t they? Ruin the happiest night of this sick old lady’s life.
No. He could fix this.
With