Page 165 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

She stepped aside as she spoke, bringing Sanzio clearly into view, but still blocking Eleanora. Eleanora saw Tonia turn, her eyes go to him—start to speak.

‘Sanzio? I thought you were buried in the countryside with my baby sister! Have you deserted her already?’ she asked archly. ‘How unsurprising! Of course you could never bring her here—she’d be a complete eyesore!’ She gave a cruel little laugh. Designed, it was obvious to Eleanora, not just to insult her, but the man who’d chosen to marry her. The man landed with a wife no man would envy him for. Whereas had that wife been Tonia, every man would have envied him…that was Tonia’s intended message, Eleanora knew.

‘Oh, no—’ Carla smiled ‘—Eleanora’s here.’ She drew back.

Eleanora stood like a statue. She couldn’t do anything else. Tonia’s eyes went to her, seeing what all the world was seeing.

And what Eleanora saw in her sister’s face for a moment was disbelief. Total, absolute disbelief.

Then fury. Incredulous, disbelieving fury…

Inside Eleanora, something changed.

* * *

Sanzio stepped forward to brush Tonia’s cheek. ‘My felicitations,’ he said, smooth and bland, ‘on your marriage.’ He held out a hand to the Marquis. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. He made his voice warm. He had no quarrel with the man—and quite a lot of pity.

But Tonia’s benighted husband was, right now, an irrelevance. His focus went back to Tonia. His mouth thinned like a whip. She’d gone white beneath her make-up. Blind fury in her eyes.

Exactly what I wanted to see!

She can’t stand it—can’t stand seeing what she’s seeing!

But she was seeing it all right. And choking on it.

It was a sweet, sweet moment. One he relished to the full.

Into the silence, the Contessa’s voice came again. ‘Doesn’t your sister look fabulous, Tonia!’ She paused deliberately. ‘Even more stunning than you.’

* * *

Eleanora stood stock-still, but inside her something was happening that she had never, never thought possible. That unmistakable look of fury from Tonia had done it.

The fury that could have only one reason. One reason that sent a rush through her—a rush she had never experienced before. Had never thought could exist.

But now it did.

Carla’s gushing exclamation rang in her ears. ‘Doesn’t your sister look fabulous…!’

And she did. She knew she did. Knew it because she had seen it in Sanzio’s gaze. Which made it totally, absolutely true.

And which Tonia’s undisguised fury now confirmed for her. A fury which was suddenly, abruptly veiled.

But not the dark, venomous glitter in her sister’s eyes. Tonia was speaking—speaking to her, her voice like a knife in a satin sheath.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t little Ellie-Ellie!’ Mockery was in her voice, and she used the nickname Eleanora hated, which her sister knew she did. ‘I would never have recognised you!’ Her scathing glance swept over the ivory evening gown, then back to Eleanora. ‘Of course, you do need to be skinny to wear bias-cut,’ she murmured pityingly.

For the first time in her life, Eleanora’s chin went up. For the first time in her life, she hit back. Knowing, for the first time, that she could. She smiled. A kindly one.

‘Yes, you wouldn’t get away with it, Tonia,’ she murmured, the implication clear.

And that it was true was reflected in the sudden anger in Tonia’s face. Making it ugly.

Beside her, she could hear Sanzio give a low laugh. ‘With her fantastic figure, Eleanora certainly can!’ he said, his voice warm with admiration. She felt him pat her hand on his sleeve, heard him go on. ‘Will you excuse us? We should mingle.’ He nodded at the others and led Eleanora away.

* * *

Sanzio felt Eleanora lean into him, and he took her weight on his arm. He suspected reaction was setting in. He guided her towards a pair of unoccupied chairs on the far side of the grand salone and she sank down gratefully. She turned to him as he took his own seat.