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“Do you not wish to know what I have to say?” Mr. Cole asked, vulnerability in his eyes.

“I do,” Clara whispered in response, returning her attention to him. “Of course I do. But is it wise for either of us when I shall be dismissed after tomorrow? When you shall return to your own family and I won’t return to mine? Our lives will separate forevermore, moving in different directions.”

“Not if you do not wish them to. Do you understand what I am asking, Clara? I’m asking you to be my⁠—”

“Please, no,” she interrupted.

The pain in her heart was acute. How she wished they could be together. How she wished they’d met under different circumstances. How she wished she’d never learned to trust him—and how she wished she’d never fallen for him.

“It has nothing to do with what I wish, Mr. Cole,” she said, looking away, her head hanging lower than ever before. “I know what you are suggesting, but I cannot accept. Not when my decision to become a housemaid would negatively affect anyone connected to me now—or in the future. Have you not considered the fact that you and your sisters would be ruined? I could never do anything to you or them after the way you’ve spoken of them.”

He tipped his head to the side, emotion glistening in his eyes. “The very reason you are concerned about such matters is precisely why I’m asking you, Clara. Of course I have considered the repercussions. But the opinions of others have never bothered me. Surely you know this.”

“But your sisters⁠—”

“Will love you. And if their future husbands do not wish to be connected to them because they have a stalwart, caring, and remarkable sister-in-law, they will surely be better off.”

The portrait he painted was too wonderful, too heavenly, and surely too perfect to be true. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she hurriedly wiped them away.

“Mr. Cole⁠—”

“Oliver,” came a hurried whisper from beside them, and Miss Hollis came rushing forward. “Clara, there is someone here to see you both.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Cole asked at once.

“At the door. In the front hall. Two gentlemen.”

Clara’s heart thudded against her chest. Algernon? Mr. Agar? Had they discovered her and were now come to take her away?

No, they were asking after Mr. Cole, as well. “Did they say who they were?” he asked.

“No. I had just gone out there with...” Miss Hollis’s cheeks reddened, and she shook her head. “Never mind that. I overheard Mr. Hurst speaking with them at the door. He was about to turn them away for intruding on the ball, but they were adamant the two of you were brought to the door. If you hurry, you may still catch them.”

Without another thought, Mr. Cole stood, removing his pretend regal wear and holding out his hand for Clara, which she took with gratitude, though she released it a moment later to remove her own robe and crown.

“I shall cover for you both,” Miss Hollis said as they walked past her.

Clara gave her a grateful look, which Miss Hollis returned before they made their way out a side door, hopefully unnoticed by the others.

“Who do you think they could be?” Clara asked, her heart racing.

“Your stepbrother doesn’t know you’re here,” Mr. Cole clarified, his brow furrowed as they fled down the corridor.

“Not that I’m aware of,” she said, her stomach tight.

She’d had a flickering of hope that perhaps one of the men might be her long-lost, long-sought-after solicitor, but now that Mr. Cole appeared concerned about her stepbrother, she feared the same.

But how could he know of Mr. Cole?

They rounded another corner, then suddenly, Mr. Cole stopped. “Clara, whoever is out there, all will be well. And whatever you may think, you do have options for your future. You have me.”

Tears flooded her eyes, but she hurriedly blinked them away again. “I know. Thank you, Oliver.”

He nodded, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths before he grasped her hand in his and led her into the hall.

Mr. Hurst still stood blocking the doorway, a cool draft of wind swirling about the large room and causing the candles to flicker on the walls.

“I will not interrupt her ladyship’s ball for you to see to whatever business you believe is so very urgent,” Mr. Hurst was saying. “Whatever you have to say to a gentleman and a maid can wait until morning. A maid, of all people.”