"Did Mother send you here?" Maggie asked quietly. If there was a firestorm of media coverage back in Glorvaird, the ranch was as good a hiding place as any.
"I sent myself," Tirith said after a moment's hesitation. "It was very early, and there was no one else about. The palace staff jumped in to handle things and... no one knows, except for the girl's father and the first responders. He agreed to … to keep things hushed up as long as the family pays for every expense for her."
Maggie's stomach was a knot of tension. "So the girl...?"
"She’s alive." Tirith sniffled. She shook her head, pressing the napkin to her face again. "Every time I close my eyes, I see her little face. That moment just before, when I couldn't stop the car…" Her voice squeaked and broke on the last word.
She put down the napkin and grabbed Maggie’s wrist on the table, her tear-splotched face fervent in its appeal. "I need you to go back. In my place."
"What?" Maggie's voice rose, the immediate emotional response surprising her more than Tirith had.
But Tirith didn't let go when Maggie tried to pull away. Her bulldog sister said, "No one knows that I'm here. I can't—can't stand and smile at every ribbon cutting and school visit like there's nothing wrong. I ruined a little girl's life. Forever!"
"So cancel the events." Maggie hadn't been back to Glorvaird since— "I can't."
"Please, Maggie. I've never asked you for anything." Tirith still had that grip on her, but Maggie pulled away and stood, agitation pushing her to pace to the kitchen island and back.
"I made a promise to a friend,” Tirith said. “There's a charity ball and polo match, and without my support, his fundraisers will fail. It's really important. I have to be at these events." She cleared her throat. "Or someone that the public thinks is me."
Maggie shuddered just thinking about it. There were reasons—important reasons—she hadn't been back to her homeland in over a decade.
But Tirith was right. She never asked Maggie for anything. Maggie had always been the weaker sister. What did she have that Tirith needed? Nothing.
Except for today. Today Tirith needed a stand-in. A mannequin. A prop.
Tirith played with her fingers, staring at them on the tabletop. "Please, Maggie. My personal assistant will prep you on everything. Mostly you just have to stand there and smile and nod."
Right. Tirith had made it sound so easy. Now, Maggie shifted in the uncomfortable boardroom seat.Stand there and smile and nod.She'd already managed to mess that up in spectacular fashion.
She should never have given in to Tirith's tearful pleas. But she had, and now she was stuck here.I need to talk to you. If Luc managed to get her alone, what exactly would she have to do to convince him that she was Tirith?
She hadn't worked out a way to put him off, what to write on the notepad, when he suddenly tensed beside her.
She snapped back to attention. She shouldn't have let her mind wander so far.
Mr. Gower—she thought—had clicked on a slide presentation and was going through the slides in rapid-fire succession. He was rushing so fast that she could barely process the information.
And beside her, Luc's shoulders drew tighter and tighter. Why? Was this a special project of his?
"Excuse me." Maggie was as surprised as Mr. Gower that she'd spoken out of turn. No help for it now. Everyone at the table was looking at her. Her face burned. "Could you please slow down a bit?"
Mr. Gower frowned. "We've seen this presentation before," he groused. But he did slow down as he went through the remaining slides.
The foundation asking for funds provided programs and scholarships for children with Down syndrome.
"As I mentioned, we've considered this charity before," Mr. Gower said as the last slide clicked off. "It is beyond the scope of our bylaws. We only make gifts to organizations that have been a going concern for three years or more. This foundation"—he tapped a finger on a sheaf of papers on the table in front of him—"has only been viable for eighteen months."
That didn't seem like a good enough reason to deny them. Not to Maggie. What would Tirith do? She didn't even know whether Tirith had commented on the proposal the first time it had been presented.
She cleared her throat delicately. "I'm sorry. I can't remember at the moment. Surely the board has made exceptions before."
Beside her, Luc shifted. His knee pressed against her thigh.
Mr. Hemry joined the conversation. "We have made an occasional exception in the past," he admitted, "but some of our members have expressed concerns about this foundation because of its connection to one of our board members." His eyes swept to Luc and then away. "It has always been important to this board to avoid the appearance of favoritism."
She glanced at the man beside her. His jaw was locked so tight, she wondered if he’d ever pry it open.
"I move to dismiss this proposal without funding," Mr. Gower said.
