She began to laugh, falling back on the bed, contorted with mirth.
"Is it funny?" Riccardo asked.
"Of course it is, don't you see? Oh, what an idiot I've been!"
"Justine, this has nothing to do with us."
"The hell it hasn't! It has to do with everyone who buys into that pretty fantasy. And I came so close – but not anymore. I got confused, but I've seen the light now, and I'm going home before I make a bigger fool of myself than I already have. Don't try to stop me Riccardo."
She waited for him to argue, but there was only silence. It seemed he had accepted her decision and, illogically, she knew a little ache of desolation. If he would only speak a word to dissuade her -
"I'll take you home," he said.
Chapter Nineteen
Justine's flight was at noon the next day. At ten, while she was finishing packing, Liza looked into her room to say, "The boat is here for you."
The old woman bid her an affectionate goodbye, not hiding her disappointment that Justine was leaving Riccardo. The count also embraced her exuberantly, and escorted her out to the landing stage, where his staff had already piled Justine's bags into the motorboat.
She gave them both a last kiss and, turning, put out her hand for the boatman to help her aboard.
"Buon giorno!" Riccardo said.
"You?"
She felt a flash of dismay. They'd said their goodbyes last night, devastated and defeated on her side, quiet and strangely resigned on his. Why couldn't he leave it there?
But in the same moment she knew she hadn't wanted him to do that, and the greater pain would be to leave without seeing him again.
His hand tightened over hers and he drew her into the boat. When he had seen her seated he swung away down the Grand Canal, then across the lagoon to the airport, reversing the journey of the first day.