Catherine bit her lip. Something about Clara's open, honest face made her want to confess the whole story. She opened her mouth and then froze. Clara was an actress after all, what if she was trying to get information for Iris and Pearl?

"I just didn't think marriage would be so hard," she lied. "Sean is a complicated man, you know."

​​

Clara looked thoughtful, "It's true. But you have to know that beneath the cold and proud exterior, he has a very passionate heart."

"He does?" she asked.

Clara nodded, "Besides, I've never seen him like this before. He's very sweet and gentle with you—he's never been like that with another girl before."

"Oh, I know he can be sweet," she said. "But he's just so overbearing sometimes!"

Clara laughed a bright and joyful sound, "All men are like that, Izzy. Well, either they're indifferent or overbearing—there's nothing in between."

"It seems so," she sighed.

"If you think about it, you're really lucky," Clara said. "He looks at you like you're his whole world, you know. I envy that. If a man looked at me that way…"

Clara trailed off into a wistful silence. Her large eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. She shrugged her shoulders and laughed nervously.

"I think you're imagining things," Catherine said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh no," Clara said, seriously. "I'm very good at reading people."

"Well anyway," Catherine said. "I'm sure you must have dozens of suitors chasing you around."

Clara laughed, "They're in love with fiction, but they don't really know me. They know the characters I play but not the real me."

"If they got to know you, I'm sure they'd love the real you too," Catherine said. "Trust me, you'll find someone who loves and cherishes you."

"Maybe," Clara said, but it sounded like she didn't believe her own words.

"Why don't you believe it?" Catherine asked.

Clara sighed, "Can I trust you, Catherine?"

"Of course you can trust me," Catherine said.

Clara nodded and looked out across the roses. Catherine looked too, but she couldn't focus on the delicate flowers or the thorny stems. Her mind raced. Was Clara finally going to tell her why she never had a boyfriend? Did it somehow have to do with Leydon?

"Why do you like me, Catherine?" Clara finally asked.

Catherine froze, surprised by the question.

"You barely know me," Clara continued. "You hardly know what kind of person I am."

Catherine thought of the best way to answer. It was impossible to explain that she'd lived another life. She couldn't tell Clara that in her past life, she'd worked as Madison's PA and seen Clara's kindness on set. She'd sound crazy.

"Well," she finally said. "I'm good at reading people, too. I can tell that you're kind and genuine."

"What if I'm just a good actress?" Clara asked.

"I mean, you are a good actress," she said. "But this is something else. Past a certain point, you can't fake kindness. Trust me, I'm practically an expert at spotting it. No matter how good an actress a person is, there are some kinds of wickedness they just can't hide."

"I think I might see your point," Clara said, smiling slightly. "I can see why Sean likes you. You're young, but you're pretty wise. You know about the world."

Catherine laughed, "You can say I've been through a lot for someone my age. But you're wrong about Sean and me. It's really a lot more complicated than it looks."

"You have time to figure it out," Clara said.

"Maybe," Catherine replied. "But enough about me. What was it you wanted to tell me? Do you love someone?"

"I guess you could say that," Clara said, smiling bitterly. "But it's not possible."

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked.

"Never mind," Clara said. "Forget I even mentioned it."

Catherine wanted to push the point, but Clara looked truly miserable. Her cheeks had lost their rosy glow and her eyes brimmed with tears again. She bit her lip and twisted her hands in her lap.

Was it unrequited love? Catherine wondered. But what man wouldn't love her back? Perhaps her family has forbidden her from seeing him? Maybe that's why she and Leydon barely look at each other?

"You're lucky, Catherine," Clara said, wiping away her tears. "It's not easy to find love. Sean may be proud and a bit arrogant, but he's a wonderful man. When he loves, he loves deeply, and he protects the people closest to him."

"Speaking of Sean, let's go back," she said, feeling uncomfortable. "He must be wondering where we've gone."

Clara led her out of the rose garden, and they walked back toward the house. The sun had started to set, and the sky was streaked with brilliant shades of orange and yellow and pink. The party had grown louder as the guests moved into the castle—plates and glasses clinked, and voices laughed and cheered.

Two tall figures waited on the path. Catherine squinted and recognized Sean and Leydon. Clara tensed beside her, and Leydon looked away, staring off at the trees in the distance.

"Where were you?" Sean asked.

"I'm sorry, Sean," Clara said. "It's all my fault. I was showing Catherine around, and I lost track of time."

"It's my fault too," Catherine said. "Don't be angry at Clara."

"I'm not angry," Sean said. "Just worried." He took her hand in his and frowned, "Your hand is cold."

"I didn't notice," she said.

"Let's go inside," he replied.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward the castle. Leydon and Clara lingered behind.

"I don't think we should leave them alone," she whispered. "What if they get into a fight?"

"Let them take care of their business," he said.

Catherine looked over her shoulder. Clara stood frozen on the path, and Leydon continued to stare at the trees.

"Hello, Leydon," Clara said, her voice sounding strained.

"Hi," Leydon said shortly.

Catherine glanced over her shoulder again and saw Clara rush past Leydon. She lifted her skirts and ran into the house. As she passed, Catherine could see tears streaking her cheeks. She wanted to chase after Clara and comfort her, but Sean held her tight.

"It's not our business," he repeated.

Inside, the party had gotten larger and more lively. People sipped champagne from crystal flutes and ate small hors d'oeuvres off of silver trays that moved through the room. A string quartet played music in one corner of the room, and in the other, Mrs. Fields sat on a large wooden chair that looked like a throne.

It probably is a throne, Catherine thought with wonder. After all, we're in a castle.

Sean let her toward Mrs. Fields, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. A beautiful, petite blonde girl stood talking with Mrs. Fields.

"That's Emma Darby," Sean whispered. "Her father runs a media company, and Mrs. Fields has been trying to set her up with Leydon for months. It would be a very advantageous marriage."

"But do they like each other?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know," Sean said, sounding confused.