CHAPTER EIGHT

ESTHER STARED AT the smooth envelope pushed through her door. She’d been talking to her mum on the phone and making some toast when she’d noticed the unusual post.

Even running her fingers over it made a little shiver run down her spine. This was expensive stationery.

It must be a mistake, but as she turned it over it was definitely her name that was on the front.

But there was no address. Just her name, in fine script. Ms Esther McDonald.

She couldn’t help but be intrigued. She slid the envelope open. Inside was a stiff card invitation. She pulled it out and stared at it.

Lord and Lady Brackenridge invite the Duke of Montrose and guest to the Avistock Charity Ball at Eglinton Hall.

There was a cute dinosaur sticky note stuck to the invitation in writing she recognised from the NICU as Harry’s. Will you come with me? They hold this event for a kids’ charity every year and I don’t want to let them down by being a no-show. Harry x.

Esther staggered back onto the sofa, laughter bursting out of her. A ball? Her? Was Harry crazy?

She turned the invite over in her hands. He’d obviously driven to her house and posted it through the door last night. Why hadn’t he knocked? Why hadn’t he mentioned it at the hospital?

She wasn’t quite sure where they were. Harry would be moving on soon. It seemed like the whole hospital were now assuming they were dating and sleeping together. Neither of which were true. She’d never dated anyone she’d worked with before. This was all new territory for her and she wasn’t quite sure how to navigate it.

She ran her fingers over the thick card. A ball. Since when did a girl from one of the worst areas of deprivation in Scotland get invited to attend a ball with a duke?

The smile across her face felt infectious. She didn’t care how ridiculous it was. She didn’t actually care if it just brought home to her how different she and Harry were. For one day it might feel nice to live the life of someone else. To walk in a different set of shoes. Yes, she could worry about a dress, because she knew straight away that there was nothing suitable in her wardrobe, and she certainly couldn’t spare the funds to buy something appropriate. But that’s what friends were for. Before she even gave herself time to think about it she shot off a text to Carly and Chloe.

Instantly she could see little dots appear on her phone.

Chloe sent a row of laughing emojis followed by a line of question marks.

Carly’s reply made her heart jump. I’ve got just the thing. Dark navy ball gown with a little bit of sparkle. Will leave it in NICU for you later today.

Esther tried not to let out a squeal. They were roughly the same size so she knew it would fit fine.

Perfect. Now she knew she had something to wear she just had to worry about everything else. Like how it would feel to be Cinderella at the ball...


Harry wasn’t quite sure he was playing this right. And those thoughts were strange to him, because he’d never really been in a relationship where he’d worried about things like that.

The issue was, the whole hospital assumed that he and Esther were a ‘thing.’ And to be honest, that didn’t bother him at all. Because he was only passing through.

Sure, he’d heard all the things about not mixing business with pleasure. But over the years he’d known lots of colleagues who’d had relationships with workmates. Some good, some bad.

As soon as he’d received that invitation he’d thought immediately about Esther. He’d driven over to her house, stuck a little note on it and put it through her door. She’d smiled at him the next day in NICU and said she’d be glad to come.

And that had been the point he’d realised he hadn’t really been thinking about Esther. He hadn’t thought that going to a charity ball with him might mean turning down an extra shift she could do, or that she would have to conjure up something suitable to wear. Part of him had wanted to go back and offer to buy her something. But somehow he knew Esther would find that completely insulting.

So, here he was, sitting outside her door, waiting to pick her up. He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket as he stepped outside the car and walked down the dark steps to her front door. She opened it on the first knock, a broad smile across her face.

A scent of orange blossom floated towards him and he wasn’t quite sure if it was coming from her, or the flat.

The room behind her was compact but immaculate. There was a large squishy red sofa, with a coffee table in front, perched on a colourful rug. The floor was the laminate that lots of people had now, and in the back of the room he could see a neat white kitchen.

Photos were everywhere. Adorning her mantelpiece, walls and tables. All of family, and even from here he could see that most of the photos had people with their arms wrapped around each other, laughing.

Something twisted deep inside. He couldn’t ever recall a moment in his life where he’d been at an event with his parents that resembled anything like this. The moment, the warmth, the adoration.

Never. His life had never replicated anything like that. For a split second all he could feel was envy. Envy for her simpler, and yet immensely fuller, life. He pushed those thoughts away.

His eyes went automatically back to Esther. ‘Wow,’ was the only word he could form.

She was wearing a long navy gown. The shoulders and cap sleeves of the dress were part-sheer, with sequins scattered across the top, then the middle was ruched, emphasizing her waist, then the sheer navy fabric fell in layers to the floor, making a light swishing sound whenever she moved. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head with a few tendrils escaping at the sides, accentuating her sparkling blue eyes, which were fixed directly on him. The effect was dazzling.

Esther beamed. Literally beamed—it was like a glow was coming off her. One that she clearly didn’t see herself.

‘Wow yourself,’ she said lightly. ‘It’s not every day I see you in a tux.’

He paused for a few seconds, taking in the full view of her.

Hospitals were odd places. He saw the same faces in virtually the same clothes. There were so many other things going on there that it frequently didn’t give anyone time to stop and really look at the people around them.

Now he could see it all. The shine of her hair, the bounce, even though it was tied up in some elaborate way on her head. The swoosh of her long skirts. The cinch of the fabric on her curves. He was looking at her with new eyes, just like the way she was looking at him.

He tugged at his collar, instantly self-conscious. ‘I definitely don’t wear this every day. But today is a special occasion.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ she whispered. His mouth was dry. For a second he wanted the world to stop. He wanted to stay and look at Esther the way she was looking at him. He wanted to forget about the ball. And forget about anything else. He wanted to close the door behind them and kiss her right now.

There was something about being in her company. Tonight was about tradition. About being a duke. Nothing in his life to do with his title had ever felt like fun. But tonight, going to the ball with Esther, was the first time he’d actually really, really looked forward to doing something. After a shaky start, she was beginning to become that person for him. The one he actually enjoyed spending time with. This part of his life—the duke stuff—had always been separate. His stomach coiled for him in an unusual way. She didn’t even know it, but she was opening up other doors in his mind. Places that had been closed for so long.

Esther blinked. Breaking the spell he was casting in his head.

She gave a thoughtful nod as he gestured to the stairs. ‘‘Ready to go? Your carriage awaits.’

They were in the car a few minutes later, crossing London towards Eglinton Hall.

‘Tell me about Lord and Lady Brackenridge,’ she said as she settled into the seat, ‘and tell me more about this charity ball.’

Harry gave a nod. It was only fair that he gave her some background to the event they were about to attend. It was one of the few things he’d continued to go to since the death of his father.

‘I’ve known them since I was a child. Their two daughters are just a few years younger than me. They had a son—Gavin—who died from neuroblastoma when we were all teenagers. It’s still rare, but even less was known about it then. They had their first charity ball a few years after Gavin died. They choose a different children’s charity to support every year, and I’ve always gone along.’ He paused, taking a breath for a moment. ‘Originally the invite was for my parents, but for the last ten years it’s come to me.’

‘You don’t have any siblings?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Nope. Just me. I think I was enough of an inconvenience to them.’

Esther’s head spun around in surprise. ‘What do you mean by that?’

He bristled, not quite sure how to answer the question. But it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have made that comment.

But it was too late. There was no point lying about it. ‘I don’t think they were really the parenting type.’

He could tell that Esther found that statement surprising. ‘Why’s that?’ she asked.

He gave a shrug. ‘It was probably more of a duty thing.’

There was a few moments’ silence. ‘Okay, I have to admit, I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

He snaked his way through the traffic, his hands gripping the steering wheel probably a lot harder than he needed to. ‘Duty,’ he sighed. ‘The duke title is inherited—passed down to the male heir. I’m quite sure they had me to ensure the title passed on.’

From the corner of his eye he could see Esther wrinkling her nose. ‘But what if they’d had a girl?’

He let out a low laugh. ‘She probably would have been treated as if she was worthless and they would have kept trying for a boy. Thankfully for everyone, that didn’t happen. My mother only had to go through a pregnancy once, and when I was born she made it very clear to everyone she had no intention of ever doing it again.’

‘Wow,’ said Esther softly. ‘It sounds kind of medieval.’

Harry nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s about the size of it. Children should be seen and not heard was very much the mantra in my family. I had a nanny until I was five. Then I spent the rest of my time at boarding school—often during the holidays too—and then at university.’

Esther’s head shook. ‘I just can’t imagine a life like that.’ Then her hand shot up to her mouth as she realised how that might sound. ‘Oh no, I—’

He stopped her by putting his hand on her leg. ‘It’s fine, Esther. It is what it is. I had a roof over my head, food in my stomach at all times. I know plenty of kids who had a far worse upbringing than me. These people tonight, Lord and Lady Brackenridge? They were probably the only adults I met who showed any warmth towards me.’ He pulled a face. ‘Of course, I didn’t realise at the time they were trying to match me to one of their daughters.’

Esther let out a gasp. ‘This is like a blooming TV show.’

He shot her a glance. ‘Yeah, but am I the hero, or the villain?’

Her hand threaded over the top of his, which was still on her leg. ‘Oh, I think we can safely say you’re the hero.’ Her eyes glinted. ‘But I’ll let you know if you slip.’

He couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Don’t worry. These people are actually fine. They realised pretty quickly that I wasn’t a good match for either Penelope or Priscilla.’

‘Penelope and Priscilla? That’s really their names?’ He could hear the disbelief in her voice.

‘Oh yes. That’s their names. They used to be part of a larger group of friends but I haven’t seen either of them in a while. Priscilla is a barrister and last I heard she was dating some millionaire businessman. Penelope has had three engagements—maybe four—each ring bigger than the last. I think she’s dating some actor now.’

Esther looked a little stunned. ‘Hmm, how the other half lives,’ she said quietly.

All of a sudden he realised she might be a bit intimidated by all this. He squeezed her thigh. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Tonight should be fun.’ He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her, or himself.

‘Hmm...’ Esther fixed her eyes on the view outside. He could tell she was thinking. Had he read all this wrong?

He’d wanted to take her out. He’d wanted to take her somewhere special. Of course he did. And this invitation had given him the perfect excuse. Didn’t people like balls?

The girl he’d first met as a crabby midwife was sitting next to him looking like perfection, but he could see her knotting her hands in her lap. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t the ball. Maybe it was the fact he’d just revealed a bit more about himself and his difficult relationship with his parents. He knew that she adored her mother, and maybe she hadn’t liked the fact he’d been so up front about how things had been totally different in his household.

He’d tried his best to forget about that part of his life. His heritage was always there. The title a daily reminder. But Harry actively chose not to use it on a regular basis. He introduced himself to everyone as Harry Beaumont, neonatal surgeon. Not as Harry Beaumont, Duke of Montrose.

As he pulled his car up the long, winding drive of Eglinton Hall, he’d already made up his mind. They’d only stay as long as they had to. If he had to, he could use a patient as an excuse for leaving. But the truth was, Billy, his mother and baby Jude were all doing well. He had four more surgeries scheduled in the next few days, with two babies being transferred from other hospitals, and two mothers whose babies had cardiac issues delivering in the Queen Victoria especially so their babies could go straight for surgery with Harry.

This was practically his only night off for a while, so he intended to use it well.

‘Busy place,’ murmured Esther as they joined the line of cars filing up to the main doors with liveried staff opening the doors, then whisking the cars away again.

Harry gave her a worried smile as they pulled up next. Waiting as she walked around the car and holding out his arm for her as they climbed the steps.

This night would be good. He’d make sure of it.


Cinderella had arrived in a horse-drawn carriage, and Esther arrived in an Aston Martin. She wasn’t sure which one was better.

Carly’s dress was a dream. She gathered the skirts in her hand as they climbed the stairs and stepped into the biggest reception hall she’d ever seen.

This whole place was magnificent. From the impressive sand-coloured stone building, the elegant windows and the four towers at each corner of the house. Except it wasn’t a house. Not in the normal sense. It was one of those gorgeous mansions owned by the rich, the very rich and the very, very rich. The size and scale reminded her of Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow that she’d visited as a school kid when it housed Egyptian relics and dinosaur bones.

Who actually lived in a place like this?

The huge reception hall had tiny white and black tiles on the floor that looked like marble. The walls were covered in dark wood panels but the whole place felt light and airy, brightly illuminated by the biggest chandelier she’d ever seen.

Staff stood with silver trays of long-stemmed glasses at the entrance way to a room on the right. Harry nodded at a few people casually. He wasn’t stunned by these surroundings at all. He seemed quite at home as he led her through to the next room. Voices were low as people chatted and sipped their champagne.

Thank goodness for Carly. Although Esther was quite sure the dress she was wearing had probably cost a lot less than most of the other female guests’ gowns, she didn’t feel out of place at all. Most wore full-length gowns. Some beautiful. Some daring. And some just a little...strange.

But Esther’s felt fine in comparison. Nearly every gentleman wore a tux like Harry’s. She shot him a sideways glance. But every gentleman didn’t look half as good as Harry did. She could see him getting admiring glances from other women. But his arm had slid around her waist as they’d entered this room, and there it firmly remained. It made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

‘Harry!’ came a deep voice near to them. A tall man came over, arm outstretched, and shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically, gripping his arm with his own hand. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ He leaned over conspiratorially. ‘You can always help me hide when it gets too much.’

Harry’s smile was broad and genuine. ‘Lord Breckenridge—David—I’d like you to meet my good friend Esther McDonald.’

The older man turned towards her, shaking her hand just as enthusiastically as he’d shook Harry’s. ‘It’s a real pleasure—any friend of Harry’s is always welcome.’ He turned and waved over to a woman behind them. ‘Sabrina, Harry’s here.’

The woman was dressed in black satin, her grey hair pinned elegantly back. She didn’t walk; instead, she seemed to glide over to meet them, encompassing Harry in a hug. He kissed both of the woman’s cheeks. ‘So nice to see you.’

After his comments in the car she’d wondered what to expect. But his affection for this pair was obvious, and Esther was secretly relieved. What must it have been like to grow up with parents who treated you as if you were merely part of the furniture?

The woman wasn’t only elegant, she had an old-world charm about her. She spoke to Esther, asking her questions about her job, and seemed genuinely interested in her answers.

For the first time, the initial fear of fitting in, in a place like this, finally started to leave Esther.

‘It’s so nice to see Harry bring a friend,’ Lady Brackenridge said in her ear.

‘Thank you for having me.’ Esther smiled. ‘Harry told me you have the ball every year in memory of your son. I was so sorry to hear about him.’

Lady Brackenridge put her hand on Esther’s arm and gave it a little squeeze. ‘It was a long time ago. But I still miss him every day. Just like I should.’ She put her hand up to her heart. ‘Harry and Gavin were such good friends. I’ve always looked out for him.’

There was genuine affection in her eyes and Esther spoke carefully. ‘He seems so comfortable around you both—and comfortable here too. That’s nice. He told me about his difficult relationship with his father.’

‘He did?’ Lady Breckenridge’s eyes went wide. She glanced at Harry and her head gave a little nod. Her lips gave a hint of a smile and she shot Esther an approving look. ‘I’m glad. Harry is nothing like his father—or his mother for that matter. I always hoped that Harry and his father would make up before the duke died. But it wasn’t to be. Old age didn’t suit the duke. It just made him more ill-tempered and irrational than before, and poor Harry always bore the brunt of it.’ She leaned towards Esther and cupped her cheek. ‘You, my girl, might just be the joy that Harry has always been looking for.’

Esther jerked a little at the unexpected affectionate movement. It made her stomach flutter, partly with warmth, and partly with the fear of the expectation that seemed to have just descended on her. Lady Brackenridge spun around as someone came up behind her, greeting her loudly.

There was a loud announcement at a door just ahead. ‘Guests, you are kindly invited to take your seats for the Avistock Charity Ball.’

Harry appeared out of thin air and held out his elbow for Esther again. She was still digesting what Lady Brackenridge had said, a tiny swell of panic in her chest. This was temporary. This was just supposed to be fun. She slipped her arm through his and followed the crowds through the double doors.

The ballroom was opulent, decorated in gold and white. Large round tables, covered in white linen with twenty seats at each, covered the expanse of the room. Harry gave their names and they were given a table number. As they sat down, Esther picked up the little card in front of them.

It was a programme for the auction and her stomach muscles tightened. Of course. A charity auction. Realisation flooded over her as other guests took their seats at the table.

Of course. A charity auction with a programme of items up for bids. A shopping trip at one of London’s most exclusive stores. Four seats at an extremely popular football cup final. Four seats and travel to an even more popular European football cup final. A box at a show in New York that had a years-long waiting list for tickets. VIP tickets to a gig by one of the biggest pop stars.

Esther’s hand went automatically to her champagne glass, which she instantly downed—her mouth had never felt quite so dry. One of the staff placed some plates of hors d’oeuvres on the table. Esther hid her smile. The food was actually so small it could hardly be seen.

Harry leaned closer, his cheek brushing against hers. ‘What are you smiling at?’

She looked up at him. He was so close she could see every eyelash and the pale gold flecks in those toffee eyes. She kept her voice low. ‘I’m just thinking that if you served those in a pub in Scotland you’d have your head in your hands to play with.’

He let out a low laugh and shook his head. ‘I love your crazy expressions.’

‘Oh, I have lots more where those came from.’ She blinked.

‘And I want to hear them all,’ he whispered, moving closer.

‘Harry!’ The voice came from directly behind them and they jumped apart.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. ‘Penelope! How nice to see you.’

A woman with blond hair wound over one shoulder and an enviable figure slid into the chair on the other side of Harry. She was wearing a bright cerise pink dress that clung to every curve. She flung her arms around Harry and kissed him on both cheeks—just a little too close to his lips—leaving her bright red lipstick on him like some kind of marker. Esther stiffened in her seat.

A waft of expensive perfume floated across the table towards her. Harry returned the hug, a little less enthusiastically, before sitting back in his chair and allowing Esther an even better view of a woman who could simply be described as perfection.

‘Penelope, I want you to meet my good friend Esther McDonald, who has accompanied me tonight.’

Penelope didn’t seem at all perturbed. She slid her arm across Harry’s body, showing a set of immaculate pointed nails, exactly the same colour as her dress, inviting Esther to shake her hand. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Esther.’ She beamed.

Esther gulped and shook the hand far more limply than she intended to. Wicked thoughts immediately dashed through her mind. Like how Penelope could easily whip a man’s testicles off with one swipe of her nails. She could see Penelope having a quick glance at Esther’s short blunt nails. Just the way a nurse’s should be. But Esther couldn’t help wishing she had put on a quick coat of nail varnish before she’d left the house tonight.

Penelope slid forward, one arm draping conspiratorially around Harry’s neck. ‘So, how did you two meet?’

It was the voice. It was delicious. Like syrup. All accented, immaculate sounds. Esther knew her own accent was thick. She liked it that way. A few times she’d purposely spoken much quicker than usual in order to put another person firmly in their place. A Scots accent could do that—particularly when dealing with a drunk in A&E. There was a real no-nonsense attitude about a thick Scottish accent that Esther relished.

But tonight? It just made her feel uncouth.

She tried to speak properly, dulling her accent and finishing every word. ‘We met at work,’ she said, ignoring the look that Harry shot her. ‘I’m a midwife in NICU.’

Penelope blinked. ‘What’s NICU?’

‘Prem babies,’ said Esther quickly.

Penelope slapped her other hand on Harry’s chest—and left it there. ‘Oh, of course. Silly me.’

Her eyes went between them both, her smile getting wider. ‘So, you met at work. That’s kind of cute.’

Harry shifted in his seat. Esther was suddenly intensely aware that on both times Harry had introduced her—first to Penelope’s parents, and then to Penelope—he’d described her as a ‘good friend.’ What did that mean exactly? It was sort of bland. Sort of nothing. Or at least nothing important.

Was that what they were? They hadn’t even had that conversation yet. And Esther didn’t like the way that burned inside.

She was also trying really, really hard not to bristle at the way Penelope had draped herself possessively around Harry. The girl wasn’t giving off vibes. The kind of ‘I was here first’ thing you sometimes got with exes. Instead, she was showing how comfortable she was around Harry.

Penelope waved her hand for some more wine and a waiter appeared immediately. He lowered his head to Penelope’s. ‘My usual,’ she said easily. ‘Harry’s too, and—’ she leaned forward ‘—pick your poison, Esther.’

Esther didn’t miss a heartbeat. She named a tonic wine that was commonly known in Scotland. Something she was entirely sure a posh place like this wouldn’t have in a million years. She wasn’t quite sure why she did it.

Was it because she already knew she didn’t fit in and wanted to send a message that she had no intention of conforming? She didn’t even like that tonic wine, and hadn’t touched it since she was a teenager. But it was like all her spiny prickles were coming out at once.

Penelope blinked and smiled. ‘Never heard of that one.’ She repeated it to the waiter, who quickly disappeared.

A tuxedo-suited man stepped up to the podium at the end of the room, announcing the start of the auction. Penelope shot Esther an excited glance. ‘Which one do you want to bid on?’

Every cell in Esther’s body prickled. She was almost sure that Penelope didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable. The woman had a generally welcoming nature. Maybe she just believed the rest of this room was just as rich as she was. But Esther had already told her that she and Harry worked together. Did she honestly expect a NHS worker to have funds to spend on the charity auction?

Within a few minutes Esther realised that the bidding here wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Her knuckles were turning white holding the programme as the bids climbed and climbed.

The room felt oppressive, as if the heat were closing in around her. The waiter appeared back with the drinks. He shot Esther a grin as he lowered her familiar drink next to her. ‘None of the monk’s wine,’ he said, revealing his Scots accent. She started. Only someone who’d been brought up in Scotland would know that the traditional tonic wine was made by monks. The man’s eyes gleamed as he sat down a tall glass in front of her. ‘So I brought you our other favourite.’

Esther laughed out loud as she looked at the bright blue liquid topped by ruby red, a memory of home shooting through her. She hadn’t even been much of a drinker as a teenager, but this definitely reminded her of stale village halls and sitting in the park on a summer’s day.

Harry leaned closer. ‘What on earth is that?’

‘A bit of my past.’ She grinned, taking a sip and grimacing.

‘What’s in it?’ he asked.

‘Vodka and port.’ She pushed it towards him. ‘Try it.’

He took a tentative sip and wrinkled his nose. ‘It tastes like...’ He paused, clearly trying to place it.

Esther named a popular fruity carbonated drink.

‘That’s it,’ he said, throwing his hands up.

‘Harry Beaumont, thank you for your bid.’

Esther felt the colour drain from her as Penelope let out a shriek of laughter. Her hand landed on Harry’s arm again. ‘Oh, you clown. Do you know what you just bid on?’

He sat back in his chair, looking relaxed, if a little stunned. Esther couldn’t breathe. She felt sick. This was her fault.

Penelope opened her programme and pointed to something. ‘Here. You’ve just bid on a two-day break in a cottage in Scotland.’

Harry shrugged. ‘How much did I bid?’

‘Twenty thousand,’ said Penelope, as if she’d just mentioned a sum of money that bought a chocolate bar.

‘Oh, okay,’ said Harry, barely blinking.

‘Okay?’ All heads at the table turned to Esther’s incredulous voice. Inside she felt like she was dying. Harry had just spent twenty thousand pounds by mistake and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered. Just how rich was this guy?

That thought alone made her immensely uncomfortable.

Penelope leaned in front of Harry and gave Esther a comforting grin. ‘Don’t worry. That’s spare change to this guy.’

Esther just couldn’t find words. She sat back in her chair and watched the spots form in front of her eyes. She’d never felt more like Cinderella in her life. This must be some kind of warped fairy tale.

The auction continued and she sat in a blur. Every cell in her body told her she should be apologising to Harry for being part of the mistake, but she could see he honestly wasn’t the least bit bothered and that worried her much more than a blazing argument over whose fault the errant bid was.

Money meant everything to her. In a horrible, materialistic, never-admit-to kind of way. She counted every single penny. She had to, in order to help her mum. Five days out of seven she would pack her lunch. She only allowed herself a coffee from the cart on the Thames twice a week. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bought herself something new to wear. Why buy more clothes when she had perfectly reasonable ones in her cupboard?

A thought of her own life back in Scotland shot into her head. How different it was. This place was all smoke and mirrors. The words Lady Brackenridge had spoken were stuck in her mind. Harry hadn’t experienced the same love that she had. Would she have swapped her parents and small house in Scotland for a life like this? Never.

She kept her face perfectly calm as she took some long slow breaths in and out. Harry’s hand had crept over to hers and his fingers intertwined with hers. Tingles shot up her arm. Tingles that she really liked.

But this was wrong. Nothing about her and Harry was a match.

She watched as he chatted easily to Penelope. The girl was gorgeous. She seemed genuinely nice and every now and then tried to include Esther in the conversation. But they were talking about friends and casual acquaintances—people that had never, and would never, move in the same circles as Esther.

The more she watched, the more she felt a distance grow between her and Harry. Penelope was a good match for him. She was beautiful. She was intelligent. She fitted easily into his life.

Not like Esther, with her extra shifts and shabby flat.

Even though she was sitting here in Carly’s beautiful gown, her previous confidence was ebbing away little by little.

Then all of a sudden the auction was over. The guests all stood as the tables were removed and a band was spirited in through another door. The music began as waiters started to circulate with drink-filled trays again.

Harry gestured towards one and Esther shook her head. ‘No thanks. Want to keep a clear head for tomorrow.’

‘You’re working again?’

She nodded. ‘Just my normal shift in NICU. I’m looking forward to it. I want to see my babies, and I want to see Jill.’

Harry gave a nod as the music changed. He held out one hand towards her. ‘How’s your dancing?’

‘Rave or highland?’ she asked cheekily.

He gave a surprised jerk at the spectrum. ‘I was kind of thinking of something slower,’ he said. Her hand was now in his and he pulled her closer and slid his hand around her waist.

It didn’t matter how much her brain had been screaming at her. Telling her that she and Harry weren’t a match in any sense. Her heart wasn’t listening at all. It was beating wildly at the feel of his body against hers.

His hand slid up to the bare skin at her neck and brushed some of her fine hairs that escaped from the top of her head. The touch was like butterflies on her skin, their wings flapping in a tickly sort of way.

His face broke into a smile, one that only seemed for her. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

She wanted to spill out a whole lot of answers. But she remembered him in the car, talking about his parents. The expression on his face. It was the first time she’d seen Harry looking vulnerable and less than confident.

She couldn’t offload onto him. It didn’t seem right. She licked her lips. ‘I guess I’m just seeing how the other half live.’

A frown creased his brow as he moved her smoothly around the floor in time to the music. ‘You’re not happy? Do you want to leave?’

For a second she saw his eyes scan the room, looking back to the bar where Penelope was sipping wine and talking to someone.

She stiffened. She couldn’t help it. Maybe he was embarrassed by her, tired of her, and would prefer to spend time in the company of his peers. ‘Do you want me to?’

He stopped dancing and looked down at her. ‘No. Why on earth would you think that?’

Esther’s heart felt as if it were fluttering against her chest wall. ‘I... I just...’ The words stuck somewhere in her throat. She was making a mess of this.

His hand came down and slid through her hair, resting at the back of her neck. His mouth only inches from her face. ‘Esther, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I thought you might like it tonight. Maybe I wasn’t thinking...maybe I should have—’

She put her finger up to his lips and shook her head. ‘I don’t think this is about you, Harry. I think we’re just different. Different lives, different backgrounds.’

‘Opposites attract.’ He looked her straight in the eye.

Part of her heart ached for him when she thought about what Lady Brackenridge had said earlier. But this close up to Harry, she could feel her pulse rate rising.

She couldn’t help but smile. ‘I might know a guy who told me that.’

He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Then trust him. I think I know that guy too. He’s okay—in fact, I think he wants to take you to dinner.’

Every part of her wanted to wrap her hands around his neck and keep kissing him. But they were in the middle of a ballroom with five hundred other people; it was hardly appropriate. She leaned back. ‘He does?’

‘He absolutely does.’ Harry grabbed her hand and led her straight across the dance floor, dodging the other people and not stopping to speak to anyone. He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a one-minute call. His car pulled up moments later and he held the door open for her.

She clicked her seat belt. ‘Harry, what are you doing?’

‘Taking you to the place I should have done earlier.’

She twisted her head at the rapidly vanishing hall behind them. ‘But what about your friends?’

He shook his head, his dark eyes meeting hers, and he halted at the bottom of the driveway. ‘I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in you.’

‘Oh.’ It was the only answer she could find. The traffic was much lighter now and they crossed London easily, pulling up and parking on a street she was unfamiliar with.

He came around and opened her door again, then bent down and lifted the hem of her dress just an inch. ‘What are you doing?’ She let out a high-pitched kind of squeal.

‘Checking your shoes. How do you think they’ll do on cobbles—want me to carry you?’

She’d only had a few seconds to consider the question before he swept her up into his arms and started striding down a street just around the corner.

‘Hey!’ She let out a laugh as he covered the street easily, stopping outside a red wooden door and setting her down gently.

He knocked on the door and Esther leaned back to see the front of the building. She could see a small sign in French, along with a sign for the famous stars that were awarded to restaurants around the globe.

The door opened and a short man with a broad smile greeted them. ‘Don’t say I’m not good to you.’ He nodded to Harry.

Harry took Esther’s hand again and led her up a flight of stairs. The restaurant he led her into was small and welcoming, and completely empty.

She spun around. ‘Where is everybody?’

He held out his hands. ‘It’s ours, for the night.’

The short guy appeared again behind them and held out his hand to Esther. ‘Armand.’ He nodded his head towards Harry. ‘It seems I’m your personal chef for the night.’

Esther’s eyes widened. ‘What? No way.’

Armand gave a casual shrug. ‘What can I say? I owe him. He asks for the restaurant for the night, he gets it.’

Armand waved his hand and started to walk to the kitchen, then paused, his hand on the door. ‘Any allergies?’

Esther shook her head.

‘Anything you absolutely won’t eat?’

She shook her head again.

‘Oh good, then let me go and create for you something wonderful. Help yourself to wine, Harry,’ he shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Esther shook her head and held out her hands. ‘How on earth do you get a starred restaurant for the night?’

Harry held out a chair for her. ‘The place officially closed last night for refurbishment. So I knew it would be empty tonight. The work doesn’t start until next week.’

‘And Armand is a friend of yours?’

He grinned as he selected a bottle of wine. ‘Armand actually did his first two years of med school with me. But he had a change of heart. His dream was being a chef, not a doctor, and he followed his heart.’

She watched as he poured the wine into the glasses on the table. This all seemed so surreal. She took a small sip. ‘So, how does he owe you?’

Harry made an awkward kind of sound as he sat opposite her. ‘I gave him the backing to start his first restaurant.’

‘Oh.’ She wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that one. She had no idea what that amount of money would have been, but she was sure enough to know it wouldn’t have been insubstantial.

‘He’s paid it all back.’ Harry gave a smile. ‘So he doesn’t really owe me. It’s just a figure of speech.’

Esther sipped the wine again and tried to ignore the little tight coil currently in her stomach. It had eased a bit since they had left Eglinton Hall.

She rested her head on one hand. ‘I can’t believe you did this.’

Harry looked surprised. ‘Why not? Don’t you think you’re worth it?’

All she could do was blink, because those words hit a whole bunch of nerves she didn’t even realise she had. It was like a chilly breeze over her skin. She didn’t lack confidence as a person. She knew she was good at her job. And she was comfortable in her own skin. But tonight, in a place that had practically smelled of money, she been distinctly uncomfortable. And Esther didn’t like feeling like that. Every cell in her body had practically told her to leave.

But there was more than that. It was something much deeper, much more fundamental. Being worth it. Those words mattered so much. When her father had flitted from one job to the next, leaving the financial security to her mother, she’d seen how much his every decision hurt her mother. She’d seen her mother’s confidence slowly and surely ebb away. They’d both still loved him. He didn’t realise how his actions hurt the women in his life. But him, constantly choosing to move on to another job—none of which had been close to home—had always left Esther with a feeling of not being worth staying for.

She never talked about it. Never discussed it. Because then she would have to admit the rose-tinted memories she kept of her father weren’t perfect. That he’d hurt them both. But Harry’s words had struck a chord. Much deeper than she’d expected.

‘Because I think you are,’ Harry added. He’d been watching her for the last few seconds, as if he was giving her space to think.

Her phone beeped and she automatically pulled it from her bag—glad of the temporary distraction. She took a breath as she tried to straighten out her thoughts. ‘My mum, just let me reply.’

Something flashed across Harry’s face. An expression she hadn’t really seen before from him. Was that regret? She tapped the keys on her phone quickly and pressed Send, pushing the phone to her side.

Armand appeared a moment later and set two plates down. The aromas instantly drifted up around her. ‘Just as well you gave me that warning call,’ he said to Harry. ‘Enjoy!’ He waved his hand and darted back to the kitchen.

Esther laughed. ‘How on earth does he move so quickly?’ Her hands had automatically picked up her knife and fork. When something smelt this good she didn’t want to wait.

‘It’s one of his many talents,’ said Harry as he picked up his cutlery too. ‘Dig in. I’m hoping you’ll love it.’

And she did. All eight courses that Armand supplied. The food was delicious, the portion sizes just right. She stuck with the one glass of wine, sipping it slowly between courses.

There was something about having the place to themselves. Both of them seemed to relax more. The anxieties of earlier slipped away.

‘Have you settled in at the Queen Victoria?’ Esther asked as they finished their puddings.

‘I think so. We’ve agreed protocols between hospitals for transfers.’

‘So, you’ll be at the Queen Victoria more than before?’

He nodded. ‘I’m still just a visiting surgeon. It just gives me a base when I get referrals from other counties.’

‘Will you still do surgeries in other countries?’

He sighed. ‘Of course. I go where the babies are. Staying in random hotel rooms around the world is what I do best.’ He paused for a second. ‘But I have to admit the facilities that the Queen Victoria have for parents are far superior than any others I’ve come across.’

Esther nodded in agreement. They didn’t just have the parent beds in NICU. The Queen Victoria also had a series of apartments where whole families could stay if their children required long-term care. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d started questioning him so much about his job. Or why some of his answers disappointed her. It was ridiculous. Nothing had changed. He was a visiting surgeon. He would come. He would go. She’d known that right from the start. So why did that make her stomach twist and turn?

‘Don’t you wish you could be somewhere more permanent? Have your own team? Stay in your house instead of random hotel rooms?’

She watched as his shoulders tensed. The far-off expression on his face made her want to reach out and hug him.

‘Home? What does that even mean?’ He didn’t even try to hide the huskiness in his voice.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. Did Harry really not have a sense of home? How must that feel? How did a child grow up when they never had the sense of warmth and love that she’d experienced?

She clasped her hands in front of her. ‘Home is the place you can be yourself. The place you’re most comfortable, and the people you’re most comfortable with. Where you don’t need any masks, or faces. Where you can be exactly who you want to be.’

She was remembering the expression on Lady Brackenridge’s face. Remembering some of the things that she’d said—and wondered if she’d said too much.

She almost jumped as Harry stood up, the chair scraping on the floor behind her. He held out his hand towards her.

‘Esther, will you come home with me tonight?’

She held her breath. He didn’t need to say anything else out loud. He wasn’t just asking her back to Belgravia. He wasn’t just asking her back to the pristine town house that didn’t really look as if anyone lived there.

She knew exactly what he was asking. She licked her lips and swallowed. All the fears and uncertainties she’d had back at Eglinton Hall threatened to swamp her.

She was with Harry. The guy she’d initially hated, but now was slowly but surely stealing little parts of her heart. They’d only kissed up until this point. But she couldn’t ignore the attraction that flared in her body every time she glimpsed him. Every time she caught a waft of his aftershave. Every time his skin came into contact with hers.

For the last few hours she’d let herself be swamped by all the differences in wealth between them—but was that fair to Harry?

Neither of them had asked to be born into the life that they had. They were just two people whose lives had suddenly become intertwined.

She knew this wasn’t destined to last forever. Harry was only here temporarily. But did she really want to ignore the spark between them? She’d gotten so used to only concentrating on work that she’d forgotten what it actually felt like to have a real connection with another human being. Someone to share with. Someone to have fun with.

And now? Now, she had one question to answer.

They were a million miles apart. But she’d never felt so close to someone in her life. She didn’t need forever. She didn’t need her perfect match.

But the electricity in the air was telling her what she needed, right here, right now.

She reached out her hand towards his. ‘Yes,’ she said clearly.

And as his hand closed over hers and pulled her towards him, the moment couldn’t have been more perfect.