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“No,”he said firmly.

“And Lila might invite any other lady she would like you to meet,” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You may talk to them all night, Teo, but you’ll have totalk. We really must conclude this business.”

“Are you mad? You can’t produce a ball in a matter of days.”

“Oh, but I can,” she said, and her voice was made of steel. “Ten days is all I need.”

He could imagine it—she’d call on every trade in this town and would have what she wanted by the end of the week. He wanted to argue. To explain to her he’d been to enough balls, had met enough ladies. But he said nothing because he feared the explosion that would come if he opened his mouth.

He turned and walked out of the room. He heard her calling for Borerro the moment he stepped into the hall. Not a moment to waste, was there?

The trouble was, he didn’t know how to stop her. He could, of course, instruct that no ball would be hosted here. But his mother was tenacious—she would hound him, follow him like a cat, complaining and carrying on. She would assume the role of his father, berating him for being stubborn or indecisive.

Moreover—and this infuriated him—his mother was right. The clock was ticking. But so was his heart, for the one woman in London that was not on Lady Aleksander’s damnable list.

Speaking of that woman... Hattie was at the window when he walked into the study. She didn’t hear him at first—she was laughing.

“Hattie?”

She gasped and whirled around. “Oh! I didn’t hear you.”

“What has amused you?”

She pointed to the window. “Him,” she said.

Mateo joined her at the window and looked down. Hattie leaned over the sill, smiling as she pointed to a gentleman and his dog on the street.

His head filled with the scent of her perfume. Her hand was pressed against a pane as she leaned forward, and he wanted to take it in his, press it against his heart.

“Do you see?”

He mentally shook his head clear and glanced down.

“He’s been attempting to teach the dog to roll over.”

“To what?”

“Roll over,” she said, and demonstrated by flipping her hand.

Mateo watched as the old man mimicked the act of rolling over, but the brown dog circled instead, its tail wagging with excitement. The man tried again, this time by putting his hand on the walk and “rolling” it. The dog stretched its body and sniffed the man’s hand.

Hattie giggled. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh out loud...but her eyes were brimming with amusement. “He’s tried absolutely everything.”

Mateo wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her in his arms and lay her down on the settee and make her his. But as with everything in his life, he did nothing. He sank into the habits of a young boy. He hated himself for it.

Then the man and the dog walked on, the dog’s tail wagging enthusiastically, and the man looking rather dejected.

Hattie instantly moved away from the window and went to her desk. “My apologies. I opened the window for a bit of air and—”

“No apology necessary.” He watched her rearrange some things on her desk. Her levity had disappeared, and strangely, he could sense some tension in her. Was he the cause of it? If so, he hated himself for it. “Are you all right?”

“Estoy bien,”she said.

He arched a brow—someone had been teaching her Spanish. She said she was fine. He didn’t believe it, but he was not going to make the situation worse by interrogating her.

“Actually,” she said, “I’m notfine. I’m more... Well, I’m probably fine. But I think it’s a bit too early to say.”

She was confusing him. “What?”