Chapter 59
“Look how smug that bitch is!” Lucy seethed.
Charlotte quickly asked her earlier gaze with a polite smile. “Of course she’s pleased, she’s Zachary’s date. Every young lady
here wishes they were in her place.”
She wasn’t the only one hiding jealousy; surely other women were silently cursing Sarah too. 1
Lucy grew more furious. Why did Sarah get to stand beside Zachary? Why not her?
Charlotte scanned the hall, noticing Old Mr. Reynolds wasn’t present. Glancing at the second floor, she understood why.
Her eyes glinted – surely Old Mr. Reynolds wouldn’t accept a divorced woman.
With that thought, Charlotte quickly left the Chancers‘ side.
Mia excitedly chatted with Sarah, “You look stunning, even more beautiful than usual! I’ve never seen anyone wear evening wear
so elegantly.”
Sarah admired Mia’s designer ball gown, a custom piece that fit her perfectly. “You look lovely too, Mia.”
“Really? My brother picked it. I told him he had terrible taste,” Mia stuck out her tongue.
Upstairs in a private room, an elderly man in a suit was enjoying tea when an aide approached respectfully. “Sir, Master Zachary
has arrived with a date.”
William Reynolds’s face lit up. “A date? How unusual.”
His grandson had avoided women since the incident with Vivian. Could he finally be opening up?
He was curious about this woman who’d caught Zachary’s attention.
“Let’s go see,” he said.
The aide helped him down the curved staircase. Near the bottom, he overheard women gossiping.
“She’s really divorced?”
“Yes, her ex–husband is James Chancer – he’s here too.”
“Does Zachary know? Or is he being deceived?”
“He must know – it’s no secret. She was married to James for three years, and their divorce caused quite a scandal!”
So she was James Chancer’s ex–wife.
Williams’s initial delight faded to cold suspicion as he watched Zachary approach with the woman.
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Zachary hadn’t noticed his grandfather’s expression. “Grandfather.”
William ignored him, focusing on Sarah. “And you are?”
Sarah smiled politely, her manner neither submissive nor arrogant. “Hello, sir. I’m Sarah Sanders, Mia’s counsellor.”
“Professor Wells used to treat Mia. You must be quite talented,” he said formally.
“You’re too kind, sir. I’m not at Professor Wells’s level,” Sarah replied professionally, without either fawning or timidity.
At these galas, people usually fell over themselves trying to impress him with flattery. But this woman remained composed,
polite yet dignified.
He found himself thinking she wasn’t as problematic as he’d assumed.
Just then, Mia ran over, hugging Sarah’s arm. “Grandpa, Sarah’s my favorite! She’s so good to
me.”
