Chapter 51

But Nathaniel belonged to Isabella.

What could she do?

This was getting interesting.

The elite crowd buzzed with anticipation. Penelope was known as Willowbrook's most eligible bachelorette, still unattached - many admired her from afar.

Harrison flashed a knowing smile. "Penelope, it's your turn to choose."

She shot Isabella a mischievous glance. "Isabella, we all know your cousin has certain... standards. Who do you think she'll pick?"

Isabella's eyes narrowed. "Obviously Penelope is exceptional. Half of Willowbrook's bachelors chase after her. She has every right to be selective. That's common knowledge."

Harrison simply smiled, letting the tension simmer.

All eyes turned to Penelope, including Isabella's. No one could predict her choice.

Since returning from abroad, Penelope had become Dr. Sinclair's protégé. With Frederick's family in Margaret's favor, Penelope was selecting from Willowbrook's crème de la crème.

Isabella leaned forward. "Well? Who's the lucky man?"

The room held its breath as Penelope stood gracefully.

Her gaze lingered momentarily on Nathaniel, sparking visible interest. "Very well, I'll make my choice now."

She moved past Harrington first.

Isabella perked up. "Penelope, are you choosing Mr. Harrington?"

But Penelope continued walking.

Isabella grew more animated. "Penelope, is it Mr. Maxwell?"

Not quite.

Penelope bypassed every eligible bachelor until only one remained... Nathaniel.

Isabella gasped, springing up to block Penelope's path. "Penelope! Who are you choosing? Surely not Nathaniel?"

Face-to-face now, Penelope met Isabella's shocked stare. "Actually yes, Isabella. I'm selecting Mr. Falcon."

Isabella's eyes dilated in disbelief. Her perfect cousin, eyeing her man?

Nathaniel was hers. This was outright theft!

"Penelope, no! You can't pick Nathaniel!"

As Dr. Sinclair's assistant, Penelope considered herself Isabella's equal. "Why not? It's just a game. Harrison said I could choose any man here - that includes Mr. Falcon. Can't you handle the rules, Isabella?"

"You—!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. "The Whitmore women are fighting over Mr. Falcon!"

"One minute playing happy family, now tearing each other apart!"

The spectators ate it up.

Gabrielle discreetly gave Harrison a thumbs-up. "Brilliant move! You've turned them against each other perfectly."

The cousins who'd united to humiliate Harrison now clashed. Harrison smirked, enjoying the show.

Suddenly, she felt an icy stare. Looking up, she met Nathaniel's glacial gaze.

He wasn't watching Isabella or Penelope. Those frozen daggers were aimed solely at her, chilling her to the bone.

Harrison quickly averted her eyes, standing abruptly. "Gabrielle, I need the restroom."

Splashing cold water on her face, Harrison composed herself before exiting.

As she passed the men's room, a powerful hand shot out, yanking her inside.

"Ah!"

Her back hit the cold tiles. Looking up, Nathaniel's striking features filled her vision.

She frowned. "Mr. Falcon! What are you— Why did you pull me in here?"