Page 28 of Enduring Promise

The party buzzed on in the grand hall, the hum of laughter and conversation filling the space like a steady drumbeat. There were toasts given and memories discussed.

Hillary kept running through the plan they’d hastily thrown together, trying to prepare for any scenario. It was fragile, reckless even, but it was their best shot. The air smelled of expensive perfumes and fresh-cut flowers, masking the tension that crackled beneath the surface.

She scanned the room for Claire, finally spotting her near the bar where Michael was holding court, a small circle of guests gathered around him. He was gesturing animatedly, clearly in his element as he droned on about his groundbreaking work. Hillary’s fists tightened. She didn’t know how anyone could stand listening to him for more than thirty seconds without their eyes glazing over. Yet here he was, basking in the attention like a cat stretching in the sun.

Hillary made her way over, weaving through clusters of partygoers with practiced ease. As she approached, Claire caught sight of her and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Hillary gently touched Claire’s arm and leaned in, her voice pitched low.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” she asked, her tone light but insistent.

Claire glanced nervously at Michael, who barely paused mid-sentence, waving a hand in what seemed like permission. Hillary took the opportunity and guided Claire away from the crowd, maneuvering them into a quiet alcove near the edge of the room.

“What’s going on?” Claire whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ve got that look like something’s about to happen.”

“There’s a plan,” Hillary said, cutting straight to the point. “You need to get Michael alone—upstairs, in the library. It’s one of the few places in this house where you won’t be interrupted.”

Claire’s face paled. “What? No. Hillary, no. He’ll think—he’ll think I’m inviting him to—” She shook her head, panic creeping into her voice. “I can’t. I’ll get the evidence, but not like that.”

Hillary placed both hands on Claire’s shoulders, grounding her. “Listen to me,” she said firmly. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let it. Russ and I, we’ve planned for this. You’re smart, Claire. You know how to steer the conversation, how to keep him talking without letting it go there. And you won’t be alone.”

Claire frowned. “What do you mean? I thought you said I’d be alone with him.”

“Not entirely,” Hillary said, her voice lowering even further. “We’ll have backup in place. Someone will be close enough to intervene if anything happens. But you have to trust us. This is the best way to get what you need. You said it yourself, people will believe him, so let’s make sure he’s saying the truth.”

Claire bit her lip, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. “What if I mess it up? What if I say the wrong thing or he realizes what I’m doing?”

“You won’t,” Hillary said with certainty. “Because you’re better than him. Smarter than him. And he underestimates you—that’s his weakness.”

Before Claire could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them. “What are you two whispering about?”

Hillary turned to find Michael standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of curiosity and irritation. He held a fresh drink in one hand, the other tucked casually into his pocket.

“Girl talk,” Hillary said smoothly, offering him a disarming smile. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Michael chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Before he could press further, Madame Fournier appeared, her impeccable posture and sharp smile commanding attention as she approached. “Dr. Hale,” she said warmly, her tone as polished as her pearls. “I wanted to ensure you’re comfortable tonight. A room has been prepared for you in the west wing. The valets will see to your every need and show you to your quarters whenever you’re ready.”

Michael’s expression shifted, annoyance flickering across his face. “Claire can show me to our room,” he said dismissively. “There’s no need for the valets.”

Madame Fournier’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes gleamed with something sharper. “That would be difficult,” she said, her voice pleasant but firm. “Since your shared room doesn’t exist. Unless there’s a wardrobe that leads to some pretend world I’m unaware of, the valets will ensure you’re shown to the correct room when you’re ready.”

Claire suppressed a nervous laugh, and Hillary couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for the older woman. Madame Fournier gave Michael a polite nod and excused herself, disappearing back into the crowd with a calculated grace.

Michael looked after her, clearly irritated, but before he could speak, Hillary leaned in. “If you two want to slip away now,” she said in a low voice, “I’ll cover for you. Claire knowsthis house better than anyone. I’m sure she can find a quiet spot where you won’t be interrupted if you want to talk.”

Claire hesitated, her hand trembling slightly as she adjusted the hem of her dress. Hillary squeezed her arm gently. “You can do this,” she whispered. “Trust me.”

Michael, oblivious to the subtext of the moment, glanced between them impatiently. “Well? Are we going, or are we standing here all night?”

Claire took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Hillary watched as they moved toward the stairs, her stomach knotting with dread. She glanced around the room, catching Russ’s eye from across the space. He gave her a small nod, his posture tense. Everything was in motion now. There was no turning back.

CHAPTER 28

The hum of conversation and the gentle clink of champagne glasses faded as Madame Fournier struck her fork against her glass, the chime reverberating through the grand dining hall. All eyes turned toward her, her regal presence commanding their attention with effortless grace. The room fell silent, the guests pausing mid-conversation and shifting their focus to the formidable woman standing at the center of the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Madame Fournier began, her voice carrying effortlessly across the space, “Willowbrooke has been my home for many years, but it is so much more than that. Its history, its legacy, and its walls hold the memories of a lifetime—memories I shared with my late husband.”

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