Chapter 4

The Perry estate's ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and the jewelry of Washington's elite. I stood near a marble column, a flute of untouched champagne in my hand, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes upon me. Bridget's pre-wedding social gathering had drawn the usual suspects—senators' wives, diplomats' daughters, and the perpetually curious social climbers who lived for gossip.

"Ignore them," Bridget whispered, appearing at my elbow in a swirl of emerald silk. "They're just jealous."

I almost laughed. Jealous of what? My broken engagement? My hasty replacement groom? The pity in their eyes was almost worse than their whispers.