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The speech was good, if a little fanciful in its scope, but that was her husband—an enthusiast who never once let cold, hard reality stand in the way of his ambition.

She’d had a sense of that when she married him, but like any new bride, she’d come to learn so much more of the man who was her husband in the months after their honeymoon. He was guided by his passion—sometimes to the degree that he left common sense behind—and Adele had learned to take pride in being the sort of wife who could smooth out her husband’s rough edges and present to the world the very best version of him.

Most of the time she succeeded.

In her vanity mirror, Adele watched this vital, brilliant, ambitious, infuriating man cross the room and come to place his hands on her shoulders. His thumbs ran up the line of her spine and back down again, rumpling and smoothing the spring green fabric with every stroke.

“Are you excited for tonight’s ball?” he asked.

She let out a breath. “I will be pleased when it begins.”

“I hope your cousins will be suitably impressed.”

“I have no doubt they will be,” she said.

When Guy had come home from work the day of Margot and James’s arrival, he’d been in the best of moods, eager to play host to his wife’s relations. The following day, he’d taken James to the stables and shown off his new stallion by inviting James on a ride down the Arroyo Seco. Then, two nights ago, Guy had arranged for them all to board a special train to Los Angeles for a performance at the Mason Opera House.

After their tiff, he was trying, and she appreciated it, because no one was more aware than she how much the success of his second hotel was on Guy’s mind. The Andalusian was one thing, but to have two successful hotels? That could be the start of an empire.

Guy leaned down to kiss her neck, and she let her eyes flutter closed. They had both been so preoccupied with their planning that she could hardly remember when he’d last kissed her there.

“There is nothing left to worry about. Tonight will be perfect,” he said.

There were things to worry about. The expense still nagged at her, and she wasn’t entirely certain about having placed Mrs. Barnes next to the Belgian ambassador. However, there was no time left to second-guess herself. The final touches were being put on the ballroom and the dining room at the Colorado Grand as they spoke, and soon the hired orchestra would strike up the first chords.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “It will be perfect.”

Adele, Margot, and James were speaking to the Belgian ambassador, who had come all the way from Washington, DC, on Guy’s invitation when Mrs. Barnes swanned up, arms outstretched as her strawberry blond daughter trailed behind her. “There you are, my dear Mrs. Whitley! I have been looking for you everywhere.”

“If you would please excuse us, monsieur,” said Adele to the ambassador, who graciously retreated from their little party with a bow and a smile.

Adele tipped back her lace parasol and allowed herself to be engulfed in the embrace of her friend and the exuberant boa of ostrich feathers she wore.

“What a wonderful day this is,” said Mrs. Barnes.

“It is exciting. Mrs. Barnes, you will remember Mrs. Benson, but I don’t believe you have yet made Mr. Benson’s acquaintance,” said Adele, nodding to James.

As the formalities of an introduction were made, Adele studied Mrs. Barnes’s daughter, who had been indisposed with a headache when Adele had taken Margot for tea at Mrs. Barnes’s home a few days before. Miss Barnes had her mother’s height, and she had almost shed the willowy look of a young gazelle that plagued some young ladies. In a year or two’s time, Adele had no doubt, Miss Barnes would grow into one of the great beauties of Pasadena society.

Miss Barnes caught her eye, holding Adele’s gaze for a moment before looking away.

“Miss Barnes, I understand you are to make your debut tonight at my cousin’s ball,” said Margot.

“Yes,” said Miss Barnes. “It is unfortunate there are not proper debutante balls in Pasadena like there are in New York.”

“You must remember, things are done differently here, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Barnes, clearly holding on to her patience by a thread.

“I still do not see why Grandmama could not have brought me out,” said Miss Barnes.

Oh, dear.

Adele exchanged a look with Margot.

“Because your home is in Pasadena, not New York,” said Mrs. Barnes.

“I’ve always been fascinated by how different people in different places do things,” said Margot generously.

“We had three feathers, flowers, a train, and a curtsey that would test the nerves of even the strongest-willed woman,” said Adele.