“Miss Charlotte.”
I turn to find Jasper in the open doorway of my bedroom, a concerned expression on his face. From downstairs I can hear the distinct sounds of the party already in full swing. The dull roar of multiple conversations happening all at once. Tinkling piano music. Glasses clinking. The booming voice of my father as he greets his guests. It’s a typical elegant Lancaster affair, and while every Constantine known to man is in attendance, including of course, the groom-to-be, I’m not down there yet.
I’m too nervous to face everyone.
“Yes, Jasper?” I put on a bright face. As if nothing is bothering me.
As if I’m not hiding out in my room, hoping people forget I’m even supposed to be there.
“Your mother requests that you come downstairs immediately,” Jasper announces.
I take a deep, fortifying breath. “Has my father noticed I’m not down there yet?’
“I don’t believe so, but as your mother put it, your time is running out,” he says, his brows knitting together. “I suppose you can make a grand entrance.”
“That was my plan all along,” I lie.
We share a look. He knows I’m full of crap.
“You look quite beautiful in that dress.” He tips his head toward me.
I glance down at myself. The dress is white, with lace sleeves and a deep V neckline that shows plenty of skin yet somehow not too much. The skirt is short—of course it is—and constructed of tiers of lace. Very feminine and unlike me.
But everything that’s happening to me is unusual, so it goes along with my new theme.
“Thank you.” I smooth my hands down the skirt, feeling itchy. “Shall I go?”
“I think you shall. Do you have your ring on? Your mother wanted me to check.”
I hold out my hand, the newly sized ring on my finger where it belongs. The weight of the stone is heavy, a constant reminder that Perry Constantine will eventually own me. I’m just shuttled from one man to another, with no choice in the matter.
It’s maddening.
But anything is better than living with my father, so I’ll go along with it and quietly count on Perry to get me out of this house once and for all.
Realizing I can’t stall the moment any longer, I follow Jasper out of my bedroom, making my way down the hall until I stop at the top of the stairway. There are so many people mingling in my parents’ townhouse. I spot the many dark-blond heads of my brothers and a few of my cousins. I see many unrecognizable blond heads as well, which I can only assume are Constantines.
And then I see him. My very own Constantine.
Perry.
He’s clad as usual in a white dress shirt and black trousers, but this time, he has on a black jacket and tie to finish the look. His hair is tamed. There are only a couple of heavy silver rings on each hand tonight, and I wonder if that’s his one act of defiance. That hint of an edge as Jasper calls it. Second-son rebellion.
I find it intriguing.
Lifting my chin, I paste on a smile and slowly make my way down the stairs, keeping my spine rigid, praying I don’t fall. The stilettos I have on are impossibly tall and thin, and I clutch the railing for support so I don’t trip and tumble the rest of the way down.
Once people begin to notice me, their conversations slowly go silent. The sound of laughter dies. Even the woman behind the piano pauses in her playing, allowing me my grand entrance, just as Jasper said.
Perry notices my descent, his gaze tracking my every move, his handsome face dreadfully serious. He pushes his way through the crowd, stopping at the foot of the stairs to wait, his gaze never straying from me. His eyes seem to eat me up from head to toe, lingering on particular places, such as my chest. My hips.
My legs.
Of course.
When his appreciative gaze finally meets mine, I feel as if I’ve been set on fire. My entire body flushes with heat, from the root of my hair to my pale pink-painted toenails. My breath stalled in my lungs, I pause on the bottom step, at equal height with him. His full lips curve into the faintest smile, his blue gaze intense.
“You’re late,” he says, his voice stern.