"Sorry," I muttered, trying to stay calm despite the spreading stain.

"You better be," the woman sneered before turning to leave.

"Don’t you think you should apologize too?" I called after her, my tone polite but firm.

She stopped, her expression haughty. "For what, exactly?"

"For spilling wine on my dress," I said, matching her attitude.

"If that’s what you want to hear, my dear, then it’s the last thing you’ll get from me," she replied coldly before walking away.

"Rude," I muttered, staring at the stain and wondering what to do next.

"Hey," a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see Mr. Hawthorne’s brother standing there, smiling...