Every window in the beautiful home on River Road blazed with light, and carriages were lined up out front, waiting for their passengers to alight.

As was Mama’s custom, she took her maid and Eliza in the carriage while the two security officers rode behind. Wouldn’t it be lovely to be on horseback tonight?

She glanced back at the men who were following them. She couldn’t tell if either of them was the man she’d seen across the street.

Neither looked familiar, but then, Papa’s arrangement stipulated that no two officers would remain in place long enough to become complacent or, worse apparently, to get too comfortable in the presence of his daughter.

One of the men—a pale-haired fellow of middle age and stocky build—nodded a greeting when he caught her watching. The other, a tall fellow with broad shoulders and an affinity for hiding his face beneath his hat, ignored her.

She smiled at him anyway.

“Darling, are you flirting with the security officers?”

Eliza gave her mother a sideways look that told her exactly what she thought of such a ridiculous question.

“No, of course not,” Mama said. “My daughter does not flirt.”

“I don’t,” Eliza said as she shifted around to look over at her mother. “It’s pointless. I’m not interested in romance, so why pretend?”

“Maybe you should pretend. And maybe you should flirt. It just might be fun.”

“Hardly. Unless perhaps I found a man who wished to count falling stars. Now that would be fun.”

Mama shook her head and looked away. Eliza leaned back toward the window and craned her neck to look up at the sky.

It was a warm night in late May. Too late for the Lyrids that held such deep memories for her and too early in the evening for the waning Eta Aquarids that would peak just before dawn.

Still she looked up at the stars, much more visible here than in the city, and thought of that night on the trail. Of the boy who irritated her and then broke her heart. The boy she imagined rode on the tail of every falling star—which of course she now knew not to be a star at all but rather bits of solar dust and rock streaking toward earth.

“Eliza. Stop your woolgathering.”

Mama’s voice shook her into action just as the door to the carriage opened and a fellow in a smart-looking uniform helped her down. Though she longed to remain out here under the stars, Eliza allowed herself to be swept along the path beside Mama toward the house, with the protection officers walking a respectful distance behind.

She’d lost count of the times she’d visited River House, the lovely home of Mama’s distant kin. The parties were legendary, but Eliza’s best memories came from childhood when she and Louis, the eldest son, made a game of spying on the adults as they danced.

It seemed so long ago now. Mama brought her here to forget that awful day on the Chisholm Trail. To distract her until the memory of the crack of a gunshot splitting the air disappeared.

Eliza shrugged off the rest of the thought, for she would never forget. That memory would never disappear.

Not like Wyatt had.

The front doors opened, and the sound of music and laughter spilled out into the night. She cast one last, longing look up at the sky, adjusted her mask, and then stepped inside.

It was too early in the season for Mrs. Hebert’s prize roses, so clusters of irises, magnolias, and daylilies provided a riot of color and a pleasant scent in the foyer. Eliza walked past the floral display toward the sound of an orchestra playing Johann Strauss Jr.’s “Blue Danube.”

Instantly she was engulfed in a sea of beautifully costumed people. Jewels sparkled beneath the glow of chandeliers, and feathers bobbed and swayed as ladies and gentlemen paired up and moved about. A bank of french doors had been opened to the night air, and a soft breeze ruffled feathers on the masks as it floated past.

The theme for the evening was a rainy night in Louisiana, ironic since the area was in the throes of a rare drought. Much care had been taken to mimic rain showers with dark puffs of silken clouds hanging from the ceiling overhead and sprays of candlelight seemingly falling from the heavens.

Water splashed in the courtyard fountains while guests mingled. Servants carried bright-colored umbrellas in one hand and trays of food and beverages in the other. The effect was both exotic and comical as the poor servants were quite limited in what they could accomplish with both hands full.

Mama and her friends had planned their costumes together and thus easily recognized one another. Now they were busy guessing the names of each guest.

The protection officers had moved into position near the door where they would remain until the Gentry women were ready to leave. While it was tiresome to be followed by such intimidating men, it also came in handy when she was dodging a potential suitor.

Around her the ladies of mama’s group squealed and laughed and generally made a fuss about each other’s elaborate costumes. They fussed over Eliza too, although their interest waned when they realized they’d get no decent conversation from the Gentry daughter.

Thus, Eliza easily slipped away after a few moments of smiling and nodding. The ladies wouldn’t miss her. Mama might eventually.

For now, however, she was free to roam about and enjoy the evening. The protection officers would keep a discreet watch, but they need not follow. She was safe here.

Though her feathered mask kept her vision limited only to what was in front of her, there was certainly plenty to see. As she strolled through the crowd that had gathered on the edges of the ballroom, Eliza studied each face and watched for a reaction as she passed by. Thus far no one had given her pretty hair comb a second look.

A waltz ended and another one began. Someone brushed past her, but when she turned to look, no one was nearby. She moved toward the dance floor where women in brightly colored gowns with matching feathered masks whirled around in the arms of men dressed as their opposites in dark suits and ebony-colored masks.

Someone tapped Eliza’s shoulder, and she turned to see Louis Hebert smiling at her. “Welcome, Eliza. Allons danse?”

She returned the smile. “I would love to dance with you, Louis.”

The fact they were family kept him from the list of potential husbands, making Louis a safe choice for the dance floor, with the added benefit of his being an excellent dancer.

A thought occurred. Was her host behind the gift of the celestial pin? He certainly knew of her penchant for gazing at the heavens.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked as the first dance ended and the second began.

“Your mother told me,” he said with a grin. “Now stop talking and pretend you’re infatuated with me. I am trying to make Adelaide Duchamp jealous.”

“Abominable Addy?” she said with a giggle. “I thought she was back in Paris with her father’s family. Something about refining her education, I think Mama said.”

His grin broadened. “Her education was not the only thing that was refined during her time in Paris.”

Louis whirled her around in time to see Addy glide past in the arms of Albert Fontenot, one of Papa’s top choices for son-in-law. Indeed, Abominable Abby, the scrawny girl with the unfortunately splotched cheeks, was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a lovely young lady with a peaches-and-cream complexion wearing french couture that fit her figure like a glove.

Eliza’s eyes widened. “How long was she away being refined, Louis?”

“Just long enough, apparently.” Louis’s expression went serious. “Eliza, you have to help me. I was awful to her before she left. I always liked her, but I tormented her mercilessly.”

“As did most of the other boys,” she offered.

He frowned. “She’s dancing with Albert. After you turned him down cold, he’s likely turned his eye toward Abby.”

“Louis, dear,” Eliza said with a chuckle, “every man in the room has turned his eye to her.”

“Not that one.” He tilted his chin to the right. “That one.”

Eliza followed his gaze. Through the maze of dancers she spied a man dressed all in black leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and studying her openly. His chin was covered with a dark trimmed beard, his suit looked expensive, and a stylish hat covered his hair.

Either this was the current candidate on the husband hunt or he was simply audacious. “Who is that?” she asked Louis.

“I have no idea, but isn’t that the point?” He shrugged. “I would tell you to go find out, but you are far too busy right now.”

“Dancing with you?” she said with a chuckle.

“No. Plotting with me. Abby will be passing by again soon. When she does, follow my lead.”

She gave him a sideways look. “What are you scheming, Louis?”

“Just follow my lead, please.”

Eliza nodded. “All right, but am I going to regret this?”

“Only if you don’t want to be related to Abigail,” he said as he swept her up into the rhythm of the next dance. “Remember, you’re following my lead. My apologies in advance for what I am about to do.”

He whirled her around twice, and then just as Eliza managed to catch her breath, the horizon tilted. Louis swept her backward into an embrace directly in front of a couple waltzing toward them.

The two couples collided, and Abigail somehow landed in Louis’s arms. Of course, Louis had to release Eliza to catch Abigail.

She landed harder than the last time her horse kicked her off. Grimacing, Eliza took the first hand offered to her and climbed to her feet.

Their collision had not stopped the other dancers. They moved past as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Eliza stumbled forward on the arm of a gentleman whose mask hid not only his identity but also most of his face. Glancing over her shoulder, she spied Louis and Abigail huddled together near the edge of the ballroom; she placed her hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes adoringly.

The desire to go over and give her distant cousin a talking-to rose, but she ignored it. There would be plenty of time to let Louis know her opinion of his tactics later.

Besides, as much as she didn’t care to be courted, she appreciated the effort when it was extended to others. And Louis was definitely making the effort.

Eliza turned to thank the man who’d helped her off the dance floor, but he was gone. She dusted off her skirts and straightened her shoulders as she glanced around to see if anyone else had witnessed her humiliation. Apparently no one had, for no eyes were turned her way.

She looked around the room and spied Mama and her friends gathered near the door. Behind her a short distance away were the two security detectives. Both were wearing masks so as not to stand out in the crowd.

The taller one regarded her solemnly. The other man had his attention focused elsewhere.

The music stopped and Louis’s father stepped up to stand beside the orchestra. The elder Hebert was famous for his lengthy and sometimes colorful speeches welcoming his guests, so his presence sent the remaining attendees hurrying toward the dance floor to witness firsthand what would likely be written about in tomorrow’s society column of the New Orleans Picayune.

Eliza took the opportunity to move toward the open doors leading to the courtyard and make her escape. Outside the air was warm, and the sound of Mr. Hebert’s voice was muted by the chorus of frogs and other night creatures rising up from the river.

A roar of laughter from inside chased her into the shadows. She moved swiftly across the tiles that covered the courtyard, her feet sure and her destination certain due to so many years of making this journey in her childhood.

Avoiding the rear kitchen and the gathering spot for the staff, Eliza reached the river’s edge. She glanced over her shoulder. Streams of lamplight spilled out of the windows on the lower floor of River House, and a light came on in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Something cracked behind her. Eliza jumped and turned around to see nothing but darkness and the glint of moonlight dancing off the river. Up ahead a small dock suspended over the river was fitted with two benches. She found it easily and settled onto the bench that gave the best view of the night sky.

Mama had brought her here that summer after the last trail ride to distract her. To make her forget. When it did not work, Papa came for them and she went home.

Where she wanted to be now.

Another crack and she knew she wasn’t alone. “Who’s there?”

“Hello, beautiful.”

Eliza’s heart lurched. “Ben?”

The man she had almost married stepped out of the shadows and removed his mask. He was easy to look at and had a way of making a woman feel as though she was the only person in a crowded room.

In that moment Eliza knew for certain that she felt nothing for him. What Ben had offered was freedom from Mama’s rules and Papa’s overprotective nature.

“I was about to ask you to dance when I saw you slipping outside.”

He was standing between her and the riverbank. To get back to River House, she would have to get past him.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be marrying Beatrice in Washington, DC?”

“Oh, that,” he said with a smirk. “Sweet girl, but she misunderstood and assumed a relationship that did not exist.”

“She assumed more than that, Ben. She is planning a wedding. I have the letter to prove it.” Eliza allowed her gaze to sweep the length of him before returning to his face. “I doubt she misunderstood that.”

“Sweetheart,” he said as he took two steps toward her. “I came for you. That’s what matters.”

“First, I am no longer your sweetheart.” She rose to face him. “And second, you are way overdue for coming for me. It is too late.”

A momentary look of surprise crossed his face. Then it was gone.

“It is never too late. You’ve been meant for me since we were children. You knew that and so did I.”

“No, Ben. You never asked me if I was interested in you. You told me and everyone else who would listen.” Eliza paused, hands on her hips. “Just because you say it, Ben Barnhart, does not make it a fact.”

“But you were ready to marry me. That is a fact.”

“It is,” she admitted. “I let you charm me with promises of taking me all over the world. Of allowing me to study the stars wherever I wished. But it was all just to make me believe you cared, wasn’t it?”

“I do care,” he said.

“All right, but tell me the truth. What took you so long to come for me?”

Ben shrugged. “I got here as soon as I could. That’s what is important. And I’ve got a plan.”

Eliza’s chuckle held no humor. “You always do. What is it this time?”

“Your mother is here. There’s no one at home but the servants, and they won’t say a word. You can pack whatever you cannot live without and we can be gone before anyone figures it out.”

“Like last time?” she said. “We know how well that plan worked.”

“Your father isn’t here, Eliza. I know better than he does what you need.”

“You have no idea what I need, Ben. I think we’re done here,” she said as she made a move to leave.

Ben stepped in front of her. “We were meant to be together. Just stop making this so difficult.”

“No, Ben. I’m not going anywhere with you. Please just leave.”

“You always say that right before you change your mind. Stop playing games, Eliza. I didn’t come here to leave without you.”

He advanced on her. She ducked under his arm and ran.