Page 31

The ballroom had been transformed into something from a fairy tale—if fairy tales included champagne fountains, crystal chandeliers, and enough flowers to choke a small country. London's elite mingled in their finest, their laughter mixing with the sound of Vivaldi and clinking glasses.
I found Mother holding court near the orchestra, magnificent in green silk that matched the family emeralds at her throat. She spotted me immediately, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.
"Edward, darling. Perfect timing." She glided toward me, every movement calculated. "I was just telling the Pemberton children about our newest house guest."
My blood ran cold. "Mother—"
"Such an interesting young woman. American, of course. Works in... what is it? Shopping channels?" Her laugh was like ice cracking. "How delightfully modern."
Before I could respond, a murmur rippled through the crowd near the entrance.
I turned, following the collective gaze.
Then I saw her.
The world seemed to slow, conversations fading to white noise as Lili appeared at the top of the grand staircase. The burgundy silk dress—Mother's choice, I realized with a start—hugged her curves before flowing to the floor like liquid wine. But it wasn't the dress that stopped my breath.
It was the way she carried herself.
Gone was any trace of uncertainty. She descended those stairs like she owned them, like she'd been born to wear silk and rubies, like she belonged in this world as much as any of the blue-bloods surrounding us.
When our eyes met across the room, her smile was radiant but somehow just for me. My chest tightened with something I couldn't name, something that felt dangerously close to pride.
Christ. I was in serious trouble.
"Ah," Mother's voice beside me, silky with warning. "There she is now."
Lili descended the stairs with unconscious grace, accepting the offered arm of James, who had appeared like the goddamn fairy godMother he apparently was. He'd cleaned up well himself, though I noted his eyes held the same protective gleam they'd had yesterday.
"She does clean up rather well," Mother observed. "For a shopgirl."
The word hit me like a slap. "She has a name."
"Of course she does. Miss Anderton. Such a common name." Mother sipped her champagne delicately. "Though I suppose that's fitting."
The insult hit its mark with surgical precision. "Careful, Mother."
"Careful? Darling, I'm always careful. It's one of my greatest strengths." Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Unlike some people, I don't allow sentiment to cloud my judgment."
Before I could respond, a striking redhead materialized at my elbow—all wild curls and vintage designer dress that probably cost more than most people's cars, but somehow looked effortless on her willowy frame.
"You must be the infamous Edward Grosvenor," she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "Cecilia Evans, buteveryone calls me Cece. I've heard absolutely everything about you."
Before I could respond, a squeal that could've shattered crystal echoed across the ballroom.
"Cece!" Lili's voice, bright with genuine delight, carried across the space between us.
The two women embraced like long-lost sisters, and I watched Lili's entire demeanor transform. The careful composure she'd been maintaining melted away, replaced by pure joy.
"I can't believe you're here!" Lili stepped back, gesturing to Cece's stunning purple dress. "Look at you! You look like old Hollywood glamor!"
"And you look like you belong on the cover of Vogue," Cece replied, adjusting one of Lili's ruby earrings with the familiarity of an old friend. "These are gorgeous. Family heirlooms?"
"Daphne insisted. I tried to tell her they were too much—"
"Nonsense," Daphne interrupted, appearing with perfect timing. "The rubies were made for someone with your coloring."
And just like that, Lili's confidence bloomed. Her shoulders straightened, her smile grew brighter, and when she laughed at something Cece whispered, the sound went straight to my chest like a physical blow.