Chapter 4

My mother's room smells faintly of lavender.

No one has moved the chair beside the window.

Her reading glasses are still on the little table.

I stand in the doorway longer than I mean to.

Then I cross to the wardrobe and take out the dress.

The garment bag is heavier than I remember.

I lay it on the bed and unzip it carefully.

Ivory silk.

Lace at the sleeves.

A line of tiny covered buttons down the back.

Inside the waist, where no one else would see, my mother stitched my initials in blue.

I press my fingers against them.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

Not because I'm keeping it.

Because I ever brought him into her life.

Lucy helps me wrap the dress and place it in a box.

She takes it to the car while I close the empty garment bag.

I'm turning toward the wardrobe when someone speaks from the hall.

"I was hoping you hadn't agreed."

Nathan Whitmore stands outside the open door.

I straighten.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your father asked me to stop by for a set of project files before he gets back. Mrs. Ellis let me in."

Our housekeeper.

She has known Nathan longer than I have.

"My father isn't home yet."

"I know. She's trying to reach him."

Nathan looks at the empty garment bag.

"If Julian sent you—"

"He didn't."

"How do you know about the dress?"

"He mentioned it on a call. He sounded pleased with himself."

I fold the bag.

"He often does."

Nathan steps no farther into the room.

We've seen each other at dinners over the years, usually at opposite ends of a table.

He has spent most of the last decade working away from the family headquarters.

Julian calls him difficult.

I'm beginning to think that means he asks questions.

"Our mothers were friends," he says.

"I remember."

"Your mother fixed the sleeves of every suit I owned until I was twelve. She said the family tailor made children look like unhappy bankers."

I laugh before I can stop myself.

"That sounds like her."

His expression softens.

Then he looks at the bag again.

"She didn't spend her last good months making that for Serena Blake."

"I know."

"I thought you might need someone to say it."

"Everyone seems to think I don't know what's happening."

"No. I think you've spent a long time being told you have to accept it."

I look at him.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

From outside comes the soft sound of the car trunk closing.

Nathan glances toward the window.

Then back at the empty bag.

"You moved it."

"Yes."

"And what are you taking to Serena?"

"The dress she already chose."

His mouth curves.

"Good."

"She may notice."

"I'm sure she will."

"Julian definitely will."

"He'll survive."

I fold the bag again, though it doesn't need folding.

"He threatened my mother's reputation."

Nathan's smile disappears.

"What did he say?"

I tell him.

He listens without interrupting.

When I finish, he takes out his phone.

"I have copies of the relief fund reports. My division helped process some of the payments."

I look up.

"Could you send them to me?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

He puts the phone away.

"If he makes that threat again, call me."

"I can handle a phone call from Julian."

"I know. That doesn't mean you have to handle all of this alone."

Mrs. Ellis appears at the end of the hall.

"Miss Bennett, your father's office confirmed that his flight lands tomorrow morning."

I check my phone.

Nothing.

His last message came early this morning.

Home tomorrow. We'll talk properly when I get there.

He knows the wedding is off.

I haven't told him about the dress.

"I'll try him," I say.

Nathan steps aside as I come out.

"Will you let me know when he gets home?"

"Yes."

He hands me his card.

I look at it.

"I have your number."

"Then use it."

"For the reports?"

"For anything you need."

I slip the card into my bag.

He starts toward the stairs, then turns back.

"You can call when you don't need rescuing, too."

"I haven't asked you to rescue me."

"I noticed."

This time, when he smiles, I smile back.