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Ella is not merely beautiful now. Not merely stunning. She’s ravishing. And she’s moved by a lie.

I’m sick enough to want her more for it.

She still looks at me. I should say something about her mother. Tell her how sorry I am and ask what I can do.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes to me. Nothing worthy of the ravishing woman beside me.

So I lean closer, whisper in her ear. “There’s an empty office across from this ballroom. Meet me there in ten minutes.”

I rise and walk away from the table.

19

ELLA

For a moment, I don’t move.

I don’t even breathe.

There’s an empty office across from this ballroom.

Meet me there in ten minutes.

He’s gone before I can respond. Before I can ask what he means.

Before I can decide whether I heard him correctly or whether the wine, the chandeliers, and the humiliation of sitting beside Quenton Stanley have rearranged my brain synapses and I thought I heard something I didn’t.

I still feel the heat of his breath near my ear.

Did Nathaniel Vexley just proposition me?

No, that’s ridiculous.

A man like Nathaniel Vexley doesn’t proposition a maid in the middle of a gala.

Actually…a man like Nathaniel probably does whatever he wants.

I glance toward the corridor where he disappeared. Maybe he only wants to talk. That has to be it.

Maybe something about Mr. Stanley. Maybe he noticed how uncomfortable I am and wants to tell me I can leave. Maybe he’s going to arrange another car, send me back to Vexley House, and end this evening before dessert.

Or maybe…

My mother.

Oh, God. Maybe…

Maybe because I mentioned my mother’s cancer, Nathaniel wants to discuss treatment. Connections. Doctors. Money. The Vexley Foundation. The VexleyARC Center.

Could he help her?

Could he actually help?

I cut another piece of filet because my hands need something to do. I swallow too quickly, nearly choking, and take a quick drink from my water glass.

I can stay in this chair. I can finish dinner beside Mr. Stanley. I can pretend Nathaniel never leaned close enough to make my thoughts scatter. I can go back to Vexley House after the gala and return the dress and never, ever speak of this again.

That would be sensible.