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“Hear, hear,” chorused some of the guests.
The duchess lifted her glass higher. “I hope I shall have the opportunity to make another toast on a similarly happy occasion in the not-too-distant future.” Her gaze shifted for a moment to Hawk before returning to her daughter and future son-in-law. “To Lucy and Derek.”
As everyone raised their glasses in toast and sipped their champagne, Pia watched as the dowager duchess’s gaze came to rest on Michelene. In turn, the younger woman glanced at Hawk, who was gazing at his mother, his expression inscrutable.
Pia felt her stomach plummet.
Sightlessly, she placed her glass back on the table without taking a sip.
Feeling suddenly ill, she experienced an overwhelming need to get away—to get some air.
Pia murmured an excuse in the general direction of her nearest dinner companions and rose from her seat.
Trying not to catch anyone’s eye, she hurried from the room as fast as decorum would allow.
In the hall, she ran up the stairs. She was roiled by emotion that threatened to spill over into tears.
She’d been so naive yesterday. It was something that she’d vowed to herself she’d never be again. And yet, she’d mistaken the situation entirely.
It wasn’t that Mich
elene and Hawk had a past relationship that had been broken off. It was that they had a current tie that had an expectation of marriage.
Pia had gathered as much from the interchange that had just occurred during the dowager duchess’s speech, and from the significant looks that had been exchanged.
She’d finally pieced together yesterday’s puzzle, but in the process, she’d nearly humiliated herself in front of dozens of people.
At the top of the stairs, she turned left. Her bedroom was down the hallway.
“Pia, wait.”
Hawk’s voice came from behind her, more command than plea. He sounded as if he was taking the stairs two at a time.
She picked up her pace. She hoped to reach the sanctuary of her room and throw the lock before he caught up with her. It was her only hope. She didn’t want to risk having him see her break down.
She could hear Hawk’s rapid steps behind her. In her gown, she couldn’t move as fast as he could, though she had the hem raised with one hand.
And in the next moment, it was too late.
Hawk caught up with her, grasping her arm and turning her to face him.
“Wh-what?” she demanded, her throat clogged. “It’s not midnight yet and C-Cinderella isn’t allowed to disappear, is that it?”
“Are you leaving behind a glass slipper?” he countered, dropping his staying hand.
She gave an emotional laugh. “No, and you’re not Prince Charming.”
His lips firmed into a thin line. “Let’s go somewhere and discuss this.”
At least he understood why she was upset, and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.
Still. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
Hawk sighed. “Will you let me explain?”
“D-damn you, Hawk,” she said, her voice wobbly. “I—I was just starting to trust you again! Now I discover that all along you’ve more or less had a fiancée waiting in the wings.”
Pia’s jaw clenched. Did he know how fragile trust was? How could she ever trust him again?
