“I’ll take you there, Mr. O’Connor,” Patrick said with a warm smile, coming up beside him.
Together, they ascended the stairs.
Halfway up, Patrick cleared his throat, and then, in a whisper, he said, “Mr. Hughes will be thrilled to see you.”
Jesse’s cheeks warmed. “And I, him,” Jesse replied softly.
They continued to the third floor.
Once they reached it, they walked to the end of the short hallway, and then, with a flourish, Patrick opened a set of double doors, revealing a magnificent ballroom. It was huge. Enormous, really, compared to what Jesse had expected—spacious, its ceilings trimmed with ornate moldings, with a breathtaking chandelier hanging in the middle of the room, its lit candles causing the crystal and metal to shimmer as though they were imbued with some sort of magic. Gorgeous string music filled the room, murmurs of conversation only a low hum beneath the perfectly played notes.
Jesse stumbled back a step as the reality of his and Arthur’s financial inequality slammed into him with enough force to expel the breath from his lungs in one fast exhale. Even though Jesse had once been with Percy Verne, Percy had kept Jesse from seeing this part of his life. Jesse had known then and knew now that the Vernefamily was wealthy. He knew, too, that the Hughes family was even wealthier. Still, nothing could have prepared him for this.
Dear God, no wonder Arthur had sent him away.
Palms starting to sweat, Jesse turned to leave, but the moment he lifted his foot, he spotted Arthur, and at that exact same second, Arthur’s eyes found his. Jesse swallowed past the lump in his throat as he watched Arthur’s facial expression change from surprise to what looked like honest-to-God rapture. Never before had Jesse seen Arthur looked so excited, so exhilarated. Not even when talking about the World’s Fair. Jesse felt a little spark of happiness flare to life inside him, too, but the lingering pinprick of insecurity prevented him from reciprocating the same look of unbridled excitement.
Arthur touched the shoulder of the woman beside him—Charlotte, probably—and bent low to whisper something in her ear. Something that then made her turn her head toward Jesse.
Both Arthur and Charlotte started over.
Jesse licked his lips, preparing himself to finally speak to the silly, wonderful man who had bruised his heart only to then present him with that Goddamned invitation that had been the best fucking thing to have ever been printed in the whole history of everything.
In a matter of seconds, Arthur was in front of him, close enough to touch, and Jesse’s entire body began to vibrate from the powerful, sudden urge to embrace him. Burying it, Jesse hooked his hands behind his back instead. Only then did he notice the tears in Arthur’s eyes.
“Mr. O’Connor,” Arthur began, his voice trembling slightly, “I’m pleased to see that you could make it.” Arthur paused to sniffle. He blinked a few times, very clearly trying to hold back tears. “Really, I’m so happy to see you.”
Jesse’s injured heart swelled.
“I’m happy to see you, too, Mr. Hughes,” Jesse said, taking care to keep his voice steady, though it, too, began to wobble. “It’s been too long.”
“Ithasbeen,” Arthur said, his voice cracking the tiniest bit from emotion.
Oh, this sweet, sweet man. Jesse hated how much he still liked him.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Jesse said warmly.
“Always,” Arthur said. “I willalwaysinvite you. From now on.”
Oh, fuck, how Jesse wanted that to be true.
Arthur and Jesse stared at each other for a few long seconds, the background music taking on a dreamlike essence as the notes reached Jesse’s ears, and then Charlotte let out a fake-sounding cough, pulling Jesse back into the present.
“Oh!” Arthur shook his head once, as though he, too, had fallen into the moment so completely that his reality had become as hazy as Jesse’s. “Forgive me, Mr. O’Connor. This is Emma’s tutor and my closest friend, Miss Charlotte Fields.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O’Connor,” she said with a polite nod. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Likewise,” Jesse said, returning the nod with a small bow of his own.
Awkward conversational silence followed, from which the only reprieve was the continued music from the ensemble. After one more minute of listening to the soft song, Arthur let out a forceful breath and rubbed his hands together.
“So, Mr. O’Connor, I thought that maybe I could introduce you to some of the guests here. Afterward, we have some, ehm, some time before a late-night meal, if you can believe it, so I was hoping that we could... well, that we could leave the party fora while. I’d love to show you my library.” He rocked back on his heels, his brow creasing with what looked to be worry. “If you’d like, that is. If you’d rather we stay here in the ballroom, I completely—”
“I’d love that,” Jesse said. “I’d love to see your library.”
Arthur’s brilliant smile returned. “Perfect.”
Charlotte spoke up. “I thought I might spend some time talking with Miss Hawthorne. Unless you need me right now, Arthur?”
