Keira could feel the change in the air. One moment, she'd been waiting at the equestrian field with Frankie, discussing Rebecca Gallagher's invitation to dinner. The next, whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire, eyes darting in her direction.
Isla Moreau stood at the center of a growing circle, her voice carrying just enough for Keira to catch fragments.
"...can't believe she actually thinks she belongs here..."
"...only saved my brother to get his attention..."
"...latched onto the Gallaghers the minute they showed interest..."
Frankie touched Keira's arm. "Ignore them. They're not worth your time."
But the whispers grew louder, more pointed. A young woman with sleek blonde hair leaned toward Isla. "Isn't she the one who married Percival Covington? How did someone like her manage that?"
Isla's laugh was brittle. "Please. Everyone knows it was some kind of arrangement. The Covingtons would never truly accept an illegitimate daughter into their family."
