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“Trust me, it wasn’t you that caused Liam and me to not get along,” Ford says quietly.

Gabriel is still looking at his book but is obviously listening in. Hayden looks like he’s fallen asleep.

“Liam, um, didn’t talk about you much,” I admit.

Ford gives a small, sardonic smile. “I know. You told me as much when we met. Although you said it very politely and kindly.”

Well, glad to know I didn’t make a total idiot of myself when I first met Ford. “He said you were just always busy working.”

Not that Liam would know hard work if it hit him over the head with a gigantic mallet like in a cartoon.

“Of course he’d say that.” Ford’s tone is annoyed, although not at me. “Liam and I might’ve grown up in the same environment, but you wouldn’t know it from how he handled it. He’s never wanted to do anything except use the wealth that was gifted to him and party. I wanted to make something more of myself and use what I was given as a jumping-off point to become someone.”

“I think you’ve definitely succeeded in that,” I say softly. I feel a strange urge to defend him, even from his own family. In retrospect, it’s truly a good thing I didn’t marry Liam. His spending habits would probably have reminded me of my mother and kept me constantly stressed.

Ford’s face does something complicated, like he can’t figure out what expression he wants to show, and then he says, so rough and quiet I can barely hear it, “I stopped caring what my father thought a long time ago.”

I glance over at Gabriel, wondering if I should push and say something more. Gabriel is still supposedly reading his book, but his eyes aren’t moving across the page. He arches an eyebrow as if to say, the choice is yours.

I look back at Ford, but before I can speak, the car comes to a stop at a massive gate.

“We’re here,” the driver announces.

He pulls up to the gate and speaks into the intercom, and the gates are opened. We drive up through massive grounds that are all lightly dusted with snow, reminding me of the classic winter wonderland. It’s beautiful, and breathtaking.

The car rolls to a stop in front of a huge stone mansion. It looks like it was plucked right up from somewhere in England and then plopped here in the middle of Colorado, classic and imposing in equal measure. I swallow hard. I definitely do not fit in here.

Ford offers me his arm as we get out of the car, and I’m startled until I remember that, Oh yeah, this is it. It’s showtime.

I take his arm, and we walk up the steps to the front door, where Ford rings the doorbell. Hayden and Gabriel flank us, their casual confidence shifting into a more formal, guarded posture than the way they act when they’re just around each other, or with me.

The double front doors open, swinging inward to reveal a massive marble foyer with a curving central staircase and filled with golden light. I have to bite my lip to keep my jaw from dropping open.

The two staff members who opened the doors take our luggage with the help of the driver. I see Gabriel tipping the driver from a roll of cash out of the corner of my eye, and then I’m swept inside as the doors close quietly behind us.

“Ford, darling!”

I turn—we all do—to see Elaine Kingsley headed toward us. I swallow hard, my nerves so bad it’s like my stomach is trying to crawl up my throat.

Elaine looks exactly how I remember her, although I only met her a couple of times, and that was years ago now. Everything about her is elegant, poised, sophisticated. She’s a petite blonde, with the same blue eyes as her son, the kind of woman you can’t help but think would have been a queen if she’d been born a few hundred years earlier.

She comes forward and kisses Ford on the cheek, her hands on his arms. There’s a half foot of height difference between them, but Elaine doesn’t crane her neck up, and somehow she gives the impression that they’re the same height.

“Gabriel, Hayden, always lovely to see you. We’re so glad you could join us. I’ve had rooms made up for you.” Elaine kisses them both on the cheek, and then her gaze lands on me.

I almost do a little wave and just barely stop myself in time, digging my nails into my palm. “Hi, Elaine, it’s lovely to see you. I hope you’re well.”

“Maeve.” Elaine doesn’t seem to dislike that I’m here, which is a relief. Or she’s good at hiding it. “I’m so sorry they’re making you come here and keep working over the holidays! When Ford told me you were coming, and so last minute, I could hardly believe it! I made up a room for you⁠—”

“She’s not here to work,” Ford interrupts her.

Elaine doesn’t startle the way most of us would. She just blinks once, almost like a cat. “Oh?”

He slides an arm around my waist, a band of steel pulling me flush against his side, and it takes everything in me not to jump in surprise. If I were really his fiancée, I wouldn’t jolt. I would be used to these kinds of touches. I’d expect them.

“She’s here as my fiancée. We’re engaged.”

This time, even someone as polished as Elaine can’t hide her surprise. Her eyes go a bit wide and she lets out a small, “Oh.”