Of course he’d been invited tonight.

Gabriel bought my pianoforte.

Jessie was stuck on that thought, coming back to herself only when Gabriel was standing directly in front of her.

“I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was quiet. “Such a beautiful piece deserves a good home.”

Jessie’s eyes welled up. He was right. And worse, she knew it wouldn’t find such a home with her anymore. She’d hardly be able to afford to have it tuned. Although she was heartbroken that the beloved instrument would be so close and yet so very, very far away, she smiled tremulously at Gabriel. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome to play it whenever you like.”

Jessie’s smile fell, thinking of how much it would hurt to play the pianoforte only to have to leave it behind again. Her response was barely above a whisper. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t remember how.”

“Your Grace!” A tall woman with massive breasts and a low-cut gown stepped deliberately between Jessie and Gabriel, thrusting her breasts out and taking a step back, almost trampling Jessie.

Taking her cue to leave and not really caring that she was abandoning Gabriel to the plastic woman accosting him, Jessie moved to another part of the room, for once grateful that her petite frame would be difficult for Gabriel to locate in the crowd. The crowd had clearly become bored with the lack of fireworks, and attention had shifted once more to the auctioneer.

Jessie watched as the auctioneer prepared to announce the next object for bid, and she felt a certain recklessness come over her. What the hell, she’d bid on something tonight.

“Our next lot is shrouded in mystery. It is the jewelry case belonging to the late Countess Creely, whose diamonds, you may recall, have been missing since the time of her death. Her son, the current earl, has gone on record with the statement that anyone who locates and returns his mother’s diamonds will receive a reward equal to half the diamonds’ worth.

“The case itself is a curiosity. It was brought from China during the Victorian era. Bidding for this item will begin at two hundred pounds.”

Jessie raised her hand. “Two hundred.”

The auctioneer acknowledged her bid, looking around the room for other bidders. Jessie looked, too, surprised when she didn’t hear anyone else’s voice.

“Sold, for two hundred pounds.” The auctioneer gestured to her again and Jessie felt a rush of pleasure and no small astonishment that she’d won.

Her composure regained, Jessie walked, smiling, to the ballroom. She thought she’d toast her new acquisition with a glass of punch, and she’d just begun making her way to the punch bowls lined up on a long table when she stopped dead in her tracks. Not believing her eyes, she watched as a classically handsome man escorted a tall, lithe, blonde woman to the drink-laden table, handing her a glass of champagne before taking one for himself. Of all the people she didn’t want to see, Jessie couldn’t imagine anyone else taking that cake. She probably should have guessed they’d be here, too, and she had a moment where she really debated calling Liam to come get her early.

No. I will not let them ruin my evening.

Jessie drew a deep breath, set her shoulders, and started forward to greet the man who had jilted her...and his wife.

Chapter 8

Jessie walked deliberately to the punch bowl, pouring herself a glass before turning back to the blond couple who were chatting quietly, not having noticed her yet. Jessie took a deep breath and glued a small smile to her face, but her greeting died on her lips as she heard the whispers around her, observed the women talking behind their hands as they watched her with rapt attention. She looked more carefully at the crowd and spotted Dame Violet, the woman hosting the party. Violet’s eyes darted back and forth between Jessie and the other couple, and her mouth moved a mile a minute as she narrated what was happening to the woman standing beside her. There was no compassion in her gaze—to Jessie, she looked positively gleeful—and a small, victorious smile played on her lips.

In that moment, Jessie knew how badly she’d been set up that evening—set up to be the entertainment. She was sure now that Violet had arranged things deliberately so that Jessie would be present when the pianoforte was auctioned off, and she was even more certain that she’d been included on the list of invitees because the crowd hoped for a delicious morsel of gossip at her expense. This was likely Violet’s second plan of attack since Jessie’s reaction to the sale of the pianoforte had been lackluster, and Jessie wondered how many ways Violet had devised to torture her.

She smiled grimly to herself. She wasn’t about to turn tail and run. It would be exactly what Violet and the gossips were looking for.