‘I think so, it’s just …’ Victoria peered in the rear-view mirror at something, causing both Lily and Malie to turn in their seats, trying to see what she was looking at. ‘It’s nothing, just the car behind acting a bit weird.’

‘Isn’t that Claudia and Henry?’ Zoe asked Lily.

‘How would I know?’ Lily replied, cringing at the defensiveness in her own tone which she knew would draw more attention from Zoe.

‘I don’t know,’ Zoe said, shrugging as deeply as the smile on her face was broad. ‘You just seem to be quite interested in Little Lord Fauntleroy.’

‘Don’t call him that. He’s my boss’s son, that’s all.’

‘Wish he’d inherited some of your boss’s kindness,’ grumbled Malie.

‘I’d heard they were going out. But I didn’t think he’d come back from uni for the summer ball,’ Zoe remarked.

Victoria’s attention snapped back to the rear-view mirror at the same time as Lily heard the rev of an engine over the quietened sounds from the radio.

Something changed then. Something in the air, a tension whipped tight, like a rope being pulled on either end, an infectious panic spread through the interior of the car, and Lily felt her senses heighten.

‘I’m going to—’

Victoria jerked the car to the side.

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Malie.

‘She’s trying to pass us. Crap, hold on,’ Victoria said, casting her eyes quickly back and forth between the road in front and the car behind. Lily turned, to see the car pulling out into the road beside them trying to overtake.

Lily felt Victoria ease off the accelerator to help the car pass them, the pull in momentum drawing the thud of her chest impossibly to her throat. The car had almost passed them when from the corner of her eye, Lily saw the back wheel spin out from underneath it.

‘Wait!’

‘Brake!’

‘Stop!’

‘No!’

CHAPTER ONE

Ten years later …

EVERY TIME LILY ATWELL punched a fist into the icing she was kneading, she imagined Henry Hawkesbury’s face.

Every. Time.

He had ruined everything. But she wouldn’t let him ruin this cake. It was the ninth incarnation of her best friend Victoria’s wedding cake. Finally having settled on the sponge – a delicious blackberry and lime – she was focusing her attention on the topping. Torn between buttercream and royal icing, she was trying them both. And resolutely ignoring the fact that because of her, or at least, because of Henry Bloody Hawkesbury, the wedding might not happen. Well, she mentally bartered with herself, it would happen, just not the way that Victoria had wanted it to happen. And that was unacceptable.