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Clara nodded, then turned to Millie and Miss Sterling with a tear-filled smile. “I can’t thank you both enough for your kindness to me throughout the last few weeks. I shall miss you both and wish you well.”

More expressions of love and kindness were shared, and Oliver held his breath and Clara then turned to him. “I must go,” she whispered so quietly, he hardly heard her words himself.

He nodded, swallowing in silence.

“I...I do not know...” She looked away. “I do not know if we will see one another again. But I wish to thank you for believing in my words from the beginning. And for keeping my secret to yourself. I will be forever grateful for your friendship, Mr. Cole.”

Friendship. The word stung Oliver to his core. That was what she wanted. That was all they were. He’d given his love to her earlier, and she didn’t want it.

The weight of the knowledge pressed down upon him, but he pulled his hands behind his back and nodded, forcing himself to not reach out to her when she clearly did not want him to.

She didn’t need him any longer. She’d finally received what she’d been fighting for. Truthfully, he was happy for her.

He was only crushed for himself.

“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered in return.

Tears flooded her eyes, and she nodded, then swiftly backed away.

“I shall be right with you, Mr. Peddles. Though I will leave through the servant’s entrance to avoid a further scene.”

She opened the door that led to the stairs—where she and Oliver had shared their first kiss. She paused, looked over her shoulder at Oliver, then left.

And Oliver let her.

“Were you two...”

He turned to Lady Dalmeer in silence.

“Stranger things have been known to happen, I suppose,” the countess said enigmatically. Then she returned to the ball, as well, Miss Sterling following swiftly behind.

Mr. Peddles exited through the front door as Mr. Hurst opened it, but Oliver stepped toward his own solicitor first.

“Will you remain with her,” he said softly. “Ensure all is taken care of? I do not believe her stepbrother is to be trusted.”

“Of course, sir.”

He left next, too, and soon, Millie and Oliver were left alone.

“Go after her,” Millie said incredulously. “Why do you not take the place of Mr. Babbington?”

“You heard Clara. She said we were friends. She said goodbye. She does not want me to go with her.”

“Ridiculous,” she stated at once. “Fight for her.”

“What is the purpose if she will not have me?”

Millie was about to protest, but Oliver was finished. “I did my best, Millie. But what has happened is over. I will secede and allow her to live out the life she wants.

“Oliver—”

“You and Mr. Prescott may take the crown from Clara and me,” he said gently. “Goodnight, Millie.”

Then he bowed and left.

Thirty-Two

Clara arrived at Cliveley Park in the middle of the night, Mr. Peddles pounding on the door with no inhibitions. Mr. Babbington stood at Clara’s left, and the town constable—who they’d requested join them—stood at her right.