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Oliver reluctantly agreed, then played half-heartedly as George lost game after game. Still, his friend’s mood had seemed to finally shift permanently, as he smiled, racking up the balls once again.

“You appear more chipper than usual,” Oliver said.

“I am.”

“Found a new love?”

“No. But I’ve found a reason to live again.”

“And what reason is that?”

“Well, the way I figure it is, if Miss Goller didn’t ever love me as I loved her, why should I spend a moment longer pining after her? I will find a love match eventually. Someone who will love me in return. I simply must be patient for her arrival.”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile. “Good for you, George.”

“Thank you,” George said, taking his turn first, the crack of the balls echoing about the space. “Now tell me, who has become your own lost love?”

Oliver merely responded with a silent but calculating gaze.

“Yes, I am aware,” George continued. “And you’ve been sulking far more than I ever did.”

Oliver begged to differ, but when he could barely muster even a smile, he figured his friend may have had a point.

“Now tell me,” George continued. “Did she reject you? Or have you not yet asked her?”

Oliver grimaced, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I haven’t asked her because I fear a rejection.”

“Does she love you?”

“I believe she might. But we cannot speak long enough for me to discover the truth of it.”

“Well, that’s simple enough,” George said, knocking a ball into another. “Find time to sneak away tonight at the ball. She’ll be there, will she not?”

Oliver looked away. “She’ll be around, I’m certain.” But not in the way his friend thought.

“Then there you have it. Stop moping, as you once told me, pluck up your courage, and speak with the woman. You’ll regret it forever if you don’t.”

Finally, Oliver’s lips stretched into a smile. “I liked you better when you were moping.”

George shared a laugh, then continued with the game, but Oliver remained distracted. He’d once told Clara how he’d admired her ability to fight for what she wanted—then he’d told her he had never had the same tenacity.

Could he find it now?

For Clara, he could. And finally, he had a plan as to how to speak with her. It wasn’t something he could pull off alone. He’d have to enlist some helpers.

Fortunately, he knew just the women to ask.

Clara stood within the Long Gallery, her hands behind her back and eyes lowered.

The space had been decorated beautifully. Candles burned brightly down the long room, and holly, ivy, and mistletoe were draped or positioned upon nearly every wall, photo, statue, and chair. Dancers formed sets down the center of the space, older guests and wallflowers sitting upon the chairs that lined the sides, and the musicians played upon a balcony overlooking the room, their music gleefully chiming throughout the space with ease.

But Clara wasn’t paying attention to any of it. She really had become the perfect servant over the last few days. She’d not spoken a word to a single guest, she hadn’t been seen by anyone but the other servants, and her gaze had sufficiently lowered whenever she was tasked to do something.

Of course, none of this was done intentionally. It all had to do with her dejected spirits. Even now, standing with the other servants who’d been invited to join the latter end of the Twelfth Night Ball, she couldn’t look up. Being in the same room as Mr. Cole was punishment enough. Seeing him dance happily with other women—or worse, having him attempt to speak with her in front of all these people—would be akin to torture.

The current dance ended, the musicians accepting their applause, then the crowd fell silent as Lady Dalmeer moved to the front of the room. She stood upon a small, raised platform, two large, red-cushioned chairs placed behind her with a paper crown placed on each.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the woman said, clasping her hands together as the large feather in her hair bounced back and forth. “You may have noticed our unusual guests at the side of the room already, but allow me to introduce the servants of Bellthorne Hall who have joined us for the last of our Twelfth Night celebrations.”