I pushed the secret door to Audra's workshop open wearily. It had been an exercise in patience maneuvering my ball gown through the narrow service corridors without ripping it. I now understood why Anne had insisted she sneak me through the regular halls on my way to the masquerade.

That seemed like years ago now. I'd failed, miserably. The one task I'd set for myself that night hadn't been accomplished because I'd allowed myself to get carried away by the glamour and opulence of the masquerade. I'd been swept up by the tantalizing notion that nights like tonight were possible for someone like me. But the truth was that they were not, they were as false as Lavinia Fortescue and her made-up American backstory.

The workshop was thankfully empty, the moonlight spilling in through the window. I located my day dress where Audra had laid it out on the table, already mourning the magnificent gown I would be leaving there in its place. The plan had been for me to return sometime near the end of the ball so Audra and Miss Claridge could get me back into my day dress and old hairstyle before the governess would walk me back to Ella's suite. But the ball was far from over, so Audra and Miss Claridge were likely still going about their own business.

Taking my dress behind the screen to change, I thanked my lucky stars that they hadn't been waiting up in the workshop. My early departure from the ball coupled with my tears would surely have required some sort of explanation and at the moment, the only thing I felt like doing was crawling into bed.

I lay the bluebird ball gown lovingly on Audra's worktable, running my hand over it one last time as the tears started anew. It really had been a wonderful night, a night that I'd remember for all the rest of my life. A night I'd danced with the crown prince, laughing and smiling and filled with more happiness than I'd experienced in a long time.

I untied the mask and laid it out next to the dress. My cheeks were damp to the touch, so I tilted the small mirror they'd left set up on Audra's table to get a look at my face. With a groan, I noticed that the black paint Anne had used on my lashes had run twin rivulets down either side of my face. Miss Claridge had left out a cloth and a pot of cream Anne had instructed me to use to remove the cosmetics from my face, so I scrubbed it away using the moonlight to see. With my face washed clean, I was starting to look more like myself.

I tucked the wig away, as instructed, in one of the cabinets below the table, hiding it with the lace cap so Audra could smuggle it away in the morning. Unbinding my braided hair, however, proved to be quite the struggle without Miss Claridge's help. I was twisting my arms around to unpin a section at the back when there was a rumble and a thump behind the service door. I whirled around, frantically looking for someplace to hide. If I was discovered here, then all the sneaking around would have been for nothing.

I was halfway around the table, making for the door to the main workshop when the service door opened. I grabbed the table for support as Andrew appeared in the doorway, relief flooding his features as he laid eyes on me.

"Why did you run?" Andrew demanded, his mask long gone as he strode across the room towards me. I backed away from him, circling the table.

"Because I had to," I replied. He followed me around the table until we were back in front of the ballgown, where I realized it was utterly ridiculous that he was chasing me. Turning to face him, he halted in his tracks in front of me.

"You need to get back to the ball," I said, "Do you realize what people will say when they figure out that you and the foreigner are both missing?"

"I don't care what they'll say," Andrew persisted, "Why did you run?"

I closed my eyes in frustration.

"Because you need to choose a wife!" I said, hating myself for crying again. Andrew reached up to brush one of my tears away with his thumb.

"Yes, I do. But I hardly see why that means I have to go back to the ball," he said, his hand still on my cheek.

"You need to marry a debutante," I said quietly, not trusting my voice not to break.

"Well I don't want to marry any of those debutantes," he said, his hand moving back to play with the braids I'd loosened on the side of my head.

"But the rules-" I started, unable to tear my eyes from his green ones.

"I know what the rules say, but the woman I want to marry isn't a debutante. Not yet, at least," he said. I felt my skin tingle beneath his hand as his eyes dropped to my lips again.

"What are you-" I started, but I didn't finish.

Andrew pulled my face towards his, his lips landing on mine as he clutched me to him. I gripped on to his blue velvet jacket as the world tilted around me. His other hand snaked around my waist, pulling me to him as his lips worked some sort of magic against mine.

"I want to marry you, Libby," he breathed, leaning his forehead against mine, "And I see now how unfair this is to you, all this sneaking around with secret notes and disguises. It needs to stop,"

I squeezed my eyes closed as I rested my hand atop his on the side of my face.

"But I'm not a debutante," was all I could manage, my eyes still pressed shut against the tears. Andrew pulled me into a hug, tucking my head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I know," he said, stroking my disheveled, partially-braided hair, "I know and I've been trying to figure out some way around that,"

"You can't pick me," I said, shaking my head against his chest all while clutching his jacket between my fingers.

"But I want to," he said, kissing the top of my head, "And I'll figure out some way, I promise you that,"

Silence fell between us as he held me, his heart beating steadily beneath my ear. I'd never been held like this before, like I was the most important thing in all the world and he didn't want to let go.

"Tonight was the most wonderful night of my life," I said, pulling my head back so I could look at him. His green eyes were alight with such emotion that it didn't take me by surprise when he leaned down to kiss me again. I ran my hands up his jacket to the nape of his neck, the butterflies tumbling and swooping in my stomach.

"Meeting you was the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me," he said finally, the both of us breathless as we broke apart. He ran his hands across my hair, sighing as he pressed his forehead against mine again.

"But for right now, you need to get back to your suite," he said, "Because I have an idea, but you need to be in attendance tomorrow night,"

"But James..." I started, "He knows, he'll tell Ella,"

"Leave James to me," Andrew said, gently turning me around so he could assist me in pulling my hair out of the braids. His fingers were gentle as he helped me unbind the tight knots Miss Claridge had tied. When it was free, I swept it back into an approximation of the bun I'd been wearing when Anne had snuck me out, turning back to face him.

"You need to get back before Ella does," he said, "And whatever you do, be on your best behaviour tomorrow,"

I looked at him, chewing my lip as I knitted my hands together. I wanted so very badly to kiss him again, to be held by him again, and I was terrified that whatever plan he was coming up with would fail. I couldn't allow myself the hope that this would work, not if I wanted my heart to escape this in one piece.

"But Andrew, I'm not the right-" I started, but he silenced me with a kiss again.

"You are," he said, reaching around the back of my neck to undo the clasp to the sapphire and diamond necklace. He pulled the small velvet bag off the table where Anne had left it, tucking the necklace lovingly inside before handing it to me.

"I can't take this," I whispered, trying to hand it back to him.

"Yes, you can," he said, pressing it back into my trembling fingers, "Think of it as a souvenir of the beginning of something wonderful,"

I inhaled shakily, all my resolve to turn him down shattering as he offered me a lopsided grin, reaching for my hand. He led me back to the service door, sneaking silently through the corridors to lead me back towards the debutantes' wing. The music from the ball wafted through the walls as the clocktower chimed midnight.

Andrew paused in front of the same secret door Anne had used earlier, turning to face me before he opened it. He pressed a sweet, delicate kiss onto my lips.

"I don't think I'll ever tire of doing that," he said and I could hear the grin in his voice. I was still clutching the little velvet bag to my chest, my heart hammering within. Andrew swung the door open, gesturing for me to exit, but my feet were rooted to the spot.

As soon as I left the corridor, as soon as that door closed between us, this entire night would become a memory. If his plan failed or if James had already told Ella, I would be sent home without a chance to say goodbye. The fear that I could have experienced a night like this, only to be kicked out of the Season and forced to marry some other man for the sake of money had me frozen in place.

Andrew must have read it on my face because when I turned to him to protest, he pressed a finger to my lips.

"Trust me, Libby," he said, wrapping his arms around me again as he kissed the top of my head. He held me for a few moments before releasing me into the hallway, his green eyes glittering in the darkness of the service corridor.

"Tomorrow," he said, that special smile on his face as he closed the door behind him. I stared at the wall for a few moments before the sounds of the ball yanked me back to my senses. I turned on my heel, determined not to be discovered here. I shoved the velvet bag down into my cleavage, pressing my eyes closed to compose my face before I snuck back into Ella's suite.