“Mr. Garfield’s daughter will be goin’ to England, too?”
He looked at me, surprised. “You’ve heard about Louise?”
“Aye.”
“Yes, she will be searching for her own duke.” His words sounded strangely bitter. Was he in love with Louise?
“And if I find one first? Will that help your hotel?”
He was silent for a moment and then said, “That’s what Aunt Maude believes.”
I lifted my shoulders with renewed energy. “Then I will do my best to win the heart of a duke before Louise Garfield.”
We came to the top of the stairs and Alec led me across the gallery to my room.
When we arrived, he turned to me.
“What do you want, Keira?” His gaze was intense as he studied me.
It was the second time he’d asked me that question, but this time, it felt different. Not simply what I wanted to do with my life—but what my heart longed for.
WhatdidI want? Beyond freedom from Five Points, a little cabin next to a stream, and being able to live comfortably?
“I want to know where I came from.”
“Aren't you from England?”
I shook my head. “I was born in England and raised by my Irish relatives. I want to know me parents. At least, me mother, if she’s still alive. I want to know who I am.”
The upper gallery was dim, but I could see Alec clearly. His handsome face was gentle as he smiled.
“I understand,” he said. “But please, don’t lose who you are in the process of trying to answer that question.”
He lifted my hand and placed another kiss on top. Then, with a gallant and exaggerated bow, he said, “I have escorted you safely back to your room. My task is complete.”
With a grin, he winked at me and then turned and walked across the gallery to his room on the other side.
His words had been meant to tease—or flirt—but they hurt more than I wanted to admit.
7
The sound of church bells woke me up on Christmas morning. Frost hugged the edges of the windows in my bedroom, but the air was warm. No draft or hint of winter inside the palace-like room on Fifth Avenue.
Aunt Maude wouldn’t stand for it.
“Good morning, miss,” Gallagher said as she opened the shutters a little wider to let in the brilliant sunshine. A fire crackled in the hearth behind her. “And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said as I sat up in bed and stretched.
Slowly, I lowered my arms as realization dawned.
As of yesterday afternoon, the adoption had been finalized. I was now legally Clara Day Hill.
But that was hardly the most exciting—or terrifying—thing about today.
For the first time since Alec and I had returned from Five Points, I would leave the house again. And I would interact with other people—society people—who must never know the truth about my identity.
“Mrs. Hill has decided you shall wear the burgundy cut-velvet silk with chenille fringe to church,” Gallagher said in her brisk manner. We’d spent two months together, but I knew very little about her and she about me. Aunt Maude had cautioned me not to get close or personal with the staff and Gallagher made it easy. I wasn’t even sure if she liked me.
