“Then again,” Olivia said momentously, and Cecilia pivoted toward her. “If you stay, we do have a seat for you at our senior table. Almost everyone’s agreed. You’ve proven yourself to be a good girl, and we’re confident you will obey our laws. Congratulations!”

Cecilia blinked, swaying slightly in astonishment. Ten years of dreaming rushed into her throat, and she drew a breath to answer—

“Wait!”

The Queen had spoken. Everyone turned to stare at her in silent anticipation. She held her hand raised and head slightly tilted as if listening. “It will be midnight in a minute,” she said. “Now is your magical moment, Miss Bassingthwaite. The decision is yours. Will you run away and be a wild woman, or will you stay and dance with the prince? We have several here for you to choose from.”

Cecilia looked at Miss Darlington. The old lady scowled, and Cecilia felt her heart leap with love and gratitude. “Hiawatha—” she tried to say, but Miss Darlington waved a disdainful hand.

“Was boring me horribly. Those Americans have no idea how to be swashbuckling. I recall that Mr. Jacobsen here used to read aloud to me from the works of Byron.”

Queen Victoria and several nearby ladies sighed dreamily.

“I shall read from them again every day, my dear Jemima,” Jacobsen declared. “And lay your feet in my hands every night.”

“How romantic,” murmured the ladies in the crowd.

“Is that a metaphor?” asked the gentlemen in the crowd.

Ned leaned forward to whisper smilingly to Cecilia, “It appears you have been made redundant.”

Cecilia frowned. “I could choose the seat at the senior table.”

“That is one possibility,” he agreed.

“I could steal my own house, live alone.”

“You could.”

“Be independent.”

“Yes.”

“Read anything I wanted with no one commenting.”

“That’s certainly true.”

Suddenly the clock struck midnight. Its stentorian tones reverberated through the excited silence of the ballroom. Cecilia took a deep breath. Ned took a deep breath, watching her. Miss Darlington yawned.

And then Cecilia grinned. The decision wasn’t so hard after all, here inside the unbounded magic of love. Curtsying to her aunt, nodding briskly to the Queen, she gathered up her skirts and turned to give Ned an imperious look.

“Well?” she demanded. “Are you coming or not?”

And with that, she strode from the ballroom.

Ned glanced at Queen Victoria, shrugging his mouth in apology. She flapped a hand at him. Behind her, and languidly stealing a pearl bracelet from Princess Louise’s wrist, Alex tossed him a sardonic smile, then nodded sidelong to indicate Ned really ought to hurry after Cecilia, considering she was almost out of the room. Ned did not run—but almost.

But just before she reached the door, Cecilia turned. “You said almost everyone,” she called out to Olivia. “Who dissented?”

“Two members,” Olivia said. “Lady Armitage sent in a postal vote. And—”

“And I said no,” Miss Darlington interjected. She gave Cecilia a long, fierce look. “Fly free, my dear.”

Sudden tears filled Cecilia’s eyes. “Oh,” she whispered, overpowered by emotion. “I love you, Aunty.”