Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Were lasting relationships sparked in a crowded ballroom? He’d heard plenty of ridiculous tales of meeting someone’s eyes across the room. The resulting spark would send a tingle through their bodies. Drawing closer. Dancing. Falling in love as easily as breathing. And then waltzing off into a happily ever after.
Yes, maybe he wanted something a little magical like love at first sight, but he wasn’t crazy enough to believe it would happen.
Hugo hoped for something more mundane, like encountering each other in a shop. They would accidentally bump and rush to beg each other’s pardon only to have their eyes meet and the words become caught in their throats. A spark and a soft smile. They’d chat and discover that they both liked the same herb-and-citrus soap or go to the same glove maker because of the type of wool he used. Either way, that initial spark would lead to thoughtful conversation and a deep-burning love that lasted forever.
Why couldn’t he have that?
He’d almost had that when he had encountered the stunning stranger on the sidewalk a few days ago. Their eyes had met, and he’d looked as if he were going to grin. Hugo had felt a spark. He might have even found the courage to say hello to the man if it hadn’t been for the carriage hitting the mud puddle. If he’d had a choice, he would have preferred to save the man but skip the part where he was splashed in cold, muddy water.
So much for a magical encounter.
Aside from potentially being snubbed by a dance partner, the only real danger that lurked at the ball was Jessamine Baker’s wagging tongue.
Hugo noticed that a particular young lord was edging closer to another gentleman. A smirk played on his lips, and he motioned with his head toward the tall doors that were open to allow a cool evening breeze into the crowded ballroom. Through those doors were the shadowy and extensive Winthrop gardens with its heavily visited hedge maze.
Half hiding his knowing grin behind his champagne flute, Hugo turned to his left to tell his mother that young Lord Canterbury was about to steal away with Mr. Turner, but his mother was missing. Hugo blinked, his smile melting away as panic strangled him. Where had she gone? He’d glanced away from her for only a few minutes.
No! This was a disaster. Jessamine Baker was not allowed to wander the ball on her own.
“My son, Hugo, is amazingly talented from a magical perspective.”
His mother’s voice cut through the din of conversation and music. Hugo spun, his eyes wide, heart in his throat.
While the statement appeared innocuous enough, Hugo knew his mother would not stop there. He needed to locate her quickly.
“Hugo gets his magical talent from his father. He was a world-renowned baker. The artist who created the exquisite wedding cake for Queen Liliana and King Hubert.”
There seemed to be some answering murmurs of interest, but people were far less impressed than they used to be, considering the king and queen had recently celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The Baker family’s claim to fame grew dustier with each passing year.
Hugo sidled through the crush and almost sobbed in relief as soon as he spotted his mother’s black lace and bombazine amid a cluster of other women dressed in dark gem-colored dresses. He didn’t recognize any of their wrinkled and powdered faces, but it wasn’t his job to know the mothers. At least not until he located a match, and then he had to win the approval of one particular mother.
“Oh no, Hugo’s magic isn’t in baking.” His mother’s voice once again rose above the others. “It’s a far rarer and unique magic. One might even think of it as a type of high magic compared to others. But we don’t speak of it. That would be rather unseemly of me.”
Hugo had nearly reached his mother. The giant boulder blocking his throat rolled away to allow him to breathe. He’d averted disaster. She at least knew when to stop with her boasting.
The other ladies chatted for a moment, and Hugo reached out to grab his mother’s elbow, hoping to draw her away from the edge of catastrophe.
“Well, my Hugo can spin straw into gold!” Jessamine Baker’s declaration was like an explosion in the room. The orchestra had just finished playing a boisterous polka, leaving the ballroom suddenly quieter.
Hugo snatched his hand back as if his mother had burst into flames. He could only stare at her in shocked horror.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t have.
Yes, she was prone to exaggeration, but he couldn’t believe she would tell an outright lie like that. And such a ridiculous one. No one in their right mind would dare to believe such nonsense. This wasn’t helping his prospects but destroying them. There was no hope of an advantageous marriage now.