Tess turned to find him looking every bit the polished gentleman with Justine on his arm, radiant in a deep pink evening gown.
Tess’s heart swelled. “I’m so happy for the two of you,” Tess rasped as she hugged each of them in turn. Her joy for her brother and Justine was the only feeling she was utterly certain of tonight. Everything else felt like a murky quagmire.
“This is a bit much,” Justine said quietly, voicing what all of them seemed to feel.
“Can’t believe Fenbridge is stomaching this.” Tristan scanned the room. “Where is he?”
“I haven’t seen him at all,” Tess said, her voice tight. “It’s as if he’s forfeited his home as well as everything dug from his land to the Americans.”
Just then, a ripple of murmurs swirled through the drawing room, followed by applause. Tess’s stomach lurched as she turned toward the sound.
Sofia Van Arsdale had climbed up onto a dais that Tess hadn’t even noticed at the edge of the room. She held a glass of champagne raised high in her hand.
“Tonight,” the young lady called out, “we celebrate my father and his brilliant museum, which grows with wonders by the day.” A round of applause followed. Then she gestured out into the crowd. “And, of course, we honor the famous Dominic Prince for finding this extraordinary artifact today!”
She waved toward him, urging him to join her on the dais. Tess’s heart was in her throat as she watched him take his place beside the heiress.
“Hip-hip hooray to Mr. Prince,” Miss Van Arsdale said and then lifted her glass as if to toast him.
Dom raised his hand, and the cheers faltered. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” His gaze found Tess again, locking with hers. In that instant, the world seemed to still. “I didn’t make this find.”
Tess’s pulse quickened.
He looked directly at her, his admiration so palpable, she felt it as something physical. A warmth that rushed through her from her cheeks all the way to her toes. His eyes softened and there seemed to be a message in them, meant only for her.
“Tess Hawthorne found the extraordinary piece on display this night.” His deep voice carried across the room and seemed to echo in her chest. “She deserves all your praise.”
He lifted his glass and the crowd turned to find her.
“Who is she?”
“Is that her?”
“Come, Miss Hawthorne,” Miss Van Arsdale called. “Let us celebrate you properly.”
She waved her forward, and Tristan put a hand on her shoulder. “Go, Tess, you deserve it.”
Tess felt woozy as she wended her way through the overheated room. A swell of scents, perfumes, and pomades washed over her, and just as she was stalled by an elaborately garbed couple, he was there.
Dominic had stepped down from the dais to cut through the crowd and reach for her. She took his hand and felt instantly steadier. Then he wrapped an arm around her to escort her to the dais, and she had to remind herself not to lean into him too freely, not to bury her face against his neck, as the deepest part of her wished to.
Miss Van Arsdale was still on the dais and reached a bejeweled hand down to help her up. She clasped the young woman’s hand with her free hand but was loath to let go of Dominic. He understood and ascended onto the dais with her.
It was a tight fit with the three of them, and he rested a hand on her lower back—that warm point of comfort kept her from bolting when all gazes turned her way.
She’d never liked being on display or being the focus of so much attention. The last time she’d felt so many eyes on her had been after her ruin. Her scandal.
“To our treasure seekers!” Sofia Van Arsdale said before sipping at her drink.
Tristan now held Tess’s drink, but she watched as Dominic took a sip. Then he offered his glass to her.
She took a smaller sip than she had all night, and Dominic’s expression turned heavy, hungry as he watched her swallow and lick her lips.
The crowd went back to murmuring, back to circling around the gold buckle she’d found.
And Sofia departed the dais, leaving them to stand facing each other.
“Why did you do that?”
