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“Did you say ‘east’ gardens, Semyon?” I ask as we parade through the house. “Meaning there are south, west, and north gardens, too?”
“The manor faces south, Miss Theron,” he explains. “So the gardens extend only to the east, west, and north.”
“Oh, boy. And here I was, so close to being impressed.”
He chuckles, but only briefly, as if it’s outside of his job description and he wasn’t expecting someone like me to ever turn up at a place like this.
That makes two of us.
“Here we are,” he finally says as we reach the end of the hallway. He gestures toward a pair of open glass doors, beyond which the eastern gardens beckon. “I will leave you all to enjoy the party. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask.”
My mother and I thank him with smiles, but Dad just grunts and follows as we all troop into the garden. Tall hedges guide us around the edge and spit us out onto the open lawn we saw when we first arrived.
I thought this house itself was the most intimidating thing I’d have to face today.
But then I take one look at the other guests, and I realize how wrong I was.
The men and women mill around between tables, chit-chatting with the kind of nonchalance that only endless money can buy while clutching champagne in crystal champagne flutes. Pinkies out when they sip, of course.
They’re dressed in sharp suits and gorgeous summer dresses too ethereal to be real. And here I am, standing on the periphery of this alien world, in a dress that’s gone from sexy to slutty in mere seconds of comparison.
And then Celine emerges from around a rose bush, and for a split second, I don’t recognize her. My simple, doesn’t-wear-makeup, barefoot-on-the-weekends older sister has been transformed into a glamazon in five-inch heels.
She’s wrapped in an emerald green slip dress that glows like it’s bejeweled. Her hair is blown out into the most voluminous golden waves and it looks at least a foot longer than it did when I saw her last. Diamonds gleam on each wrist, around her throat, and of course, on her finger, which sports a rock the size of an asteroid set in a platinum gold band.
“You’re finally here!” She rushes over to us, though it’s a graceful sort of rushing, like a ballerina dashing across the stage.
“Darling,” Mom murmurs, every bit as awed as I am by this new woman standing in front of us. “You look gorgeous. That dress is just… wow!”
“Ilarion picked it out himself.” She laughs as she gives us a twirl and curtsy. “Oh, I’m so glad you guys are here. Tay!” She gives me a quick hug, and then her eyes travel down my body and her face falls. “Really? Your clubbing dress?”
“I didn’t realize I was being invited to a literal castle to mingle with high society,” I mumble under my breath. I glance up at her and grin as best as I can. “This is some place, Cee.”
“Isn’t it?” She beams with pride as she looks around. I follow her gaze to see tables draped with white clothes, more crystalware everywhere, and sunflowers woven into the backs of each seat. Waiters in white tuxedos float from group to group with hors d’oeuvres on silver platters.
I follow her gaze, trying to see if I can guess which of these men who managed to capture my skittish sister’s heart in mere months.
“So I feel a little left out being the only one in the family who hasn’t met your fiancé yet.”
“Oh, of course!” Celine frowns as she searches for him and comes up empty. “Odd. He was just here… Hm, maybe he went to check on lunch. I’ll—Oh, wait, there he is. Ilarion!”
She’s talking to someone over my shoulder, so I turn around expectantly. But the moment I do, I freeze. I can feel the blood draining from my face. I can feel my stomach churning with nausea. And for the first time in weeks, it has nothing to do with the pregnancy.
I take one look at those misty blue eyes rimmed with hazel, and all I can think is—
Not again.
15
TAYLOR
This.
Cannot.
Be.
Happening.
