't have a sign. Eleonore arrived alone, a solitary figure of grace in a sea of forced laughter and air kisses. Her

o was holding court ne

Eleonore said, handing h

ed of silk, was an antique sapphire necklace, a stunning piece of Edwardian craftsmanship. "Oh, my God, El, it's bre

rifted over, their eyes scan

" one of them asked with a smi

mile. "He's running late." Her aloofness

He wasn't alone. On his arm was a woman in a white dress, her expression

ted between Eleonore, standing alone by the bar, and

oward the group. "Everyone, this is Vanessa. An old

a delicate hand. "You must be Eleonore. Preston has told me so much about you." She paused,

h voice, were a direct hit. A public declar

lips, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Miss Cole, resemblances are

lled with tears as she shrank back against

e a look of pure admonishment. "El, what

or." "She's clearly jealous." The consensus

neck. "Izzy, that necklace! Is that the 'Star of the Seine'?" she exclaimed. "I saw

one leaned in, scrutinizing the piece around Isabelle's neck. Isabelle's own smile fa

yet perfectly pitched for everyone nearby to hear. "Oh, Eleonore, y

us and clear. Eleonore had

turned from g

is good, but not good enough fo

hard to fit

rassing fo

ll sides. They had already judged and convicted her. In their w

rt of her still hoped he would defend her. He had been with her when she'd

e and disappointment. He didn't defend her. He didn't say a word to shut them do

this? Just apologize to Is

Or, worse, he didn't care enough to find out the truth. In the court

loneliness. She was completely and utterly alone i

yes demanding her surrender. And the last bit of warmth in her heart, the last lingering echo of love

cry. She

sm

n the back of Preston's neck stand up. He had a sudden, terr