Scandal of Love

By

Janelle Daniels

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Scandal of Love

Copyright © 2011 by Janelle Daniels

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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CHAPTER 1

London, 1834

If someone had told Lady Sera Winters that her needlework was the finest in all of England, she would have been the first to laugh.

Glancing away from the picturesque scene outside of her window, where the sun shined bright through the shade trees in the garden, Sera picked up her needlepoint and examined the yellow rose she had stitched yesterday morning. The lopsided petals looked more like they were dying than in a state of bloom. And since she was being honest with herself, the leeched colors only enhanced the look of decay.

Chuckling, she picked up a new strand of honey-colored floss. Her needlepoint skills had not improved over the years as her mother had hoped, but that didn’t stop Sera from enjoying it. The repetitive movements were what soothed her, what had her returning time and again to destroy one of woman’s oldest art forms.

It didn’t matter that she wasn’t good at it, it only mattered that she kept doing it. And if someone happened to receive one of her works as a present, she wasn’t above laughing at herself when they cringed.

If one couldn’t laugh at one’s self, what was the point? Everyone took themselves far too seriously, and no one more so than debutants.

Finding a match during the season was a life or death situation for most of these women, but she couldn’t blame them for their attitude. With many of their families in bad financial straits, marrying for money was a common occurrence in their world.

She was continually grateful that she would never be forced to marry for money. With her father’s wealth, the daughter of the Duke of Dorchester would only need to marry for love. And indeed she would marry for love or not at all.

The howling in the hallway had her jerking upright, the needle she worked with stabbing her finger. The commotion only increased, causing her to move toward the door to see what was happening, but the sound of her father’s heavy footsteps made her pause. The door to her private sitting room opened, allowing her disheveled father to stumble in.

“Father! Are you all right?” Sera ran to him, her heart racing in panic as she saw the despair in his eyes.

He shook his head, whimpering as he slumped into one of the rose silk-backed chairs.

In shock, Sera watched her father mumble to himself for a moment. “You’re ruined, Sera. It’s over. All our hopes for you to be the next Duchess of Wathersby, your mother’s final wish, are gone.”

Kneeling in front of him, she touched his knees to get his attention. “What do you mean? What has happened?” she asked, using a soothing voice. When her father was in such a state, the best thing to do was to remain calm. He would do enough fretting for the both of them. It had been that way since her mother had died three years ago. Ready to make her debut into society at age seventeen, Sera hadn’t been prepared to take over the care of her father. In cases such as these, where her father became overwrought, she longed for her mother’s moderating influence.

She needed to calm him down, get him to a point where she would be able to get information from him.

Head jutting up, he looked at her as if she were not there before jerking his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “The rumor started last night, but I didn’t hear of it until this morning. It is being said that you were compromised by Lord Devericks, Earl of Surrant, at Lady Berkley’s ball last night.”

“What? How is that possible? I’ve never even met him.” She tried to recall what he looked like, but she couldn’t bring an image to mind. “Didn’t he just inherit?”

“He inherited about three months ago, but he hasn’t been seen much in the last several years.” Her father shook his head. “To think of all we worked for only to have it snatched away. With your mother’s golden hair and sapphire eyes I was sure you would be able to….” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Well, with this scandal attached to your name, no decent man of good breeding will make an offer.”

The despair that plagued her father hit her full force. Sera knew her father’s words were true. What gentleman would willingly attach himself to such a scandal? She doubted that Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby, would ever consider her as a potential bride after this. There would not be a match between herself and the handsome duke.

“There must be something we can do. The gossip isn’t true. Others must know as well,” she said, even though she couldn’t convince herself of it. Even if the gossip were proven false, her reputation would still be sullied. There was no way to completely erase it.

Her father shook his head. “We both know there is nothing to be done.” He sighed heavily and looked down into his daughter’s eyes. “You are ruined. And no man who is worth anything will have you now. We will need to buy a husband for you.”

She shot to her feet, indignation straightening her spine. “Absolutely not! I will never buy a husband. I would rather not marry than be forced to wed a fortune hunter.”

“You will marry. Do you not want your own home and family?”

She remained silent. Her father was right. She did want those things. But were they really worth anything without love? A home was made from love; a family was created with love. What kind of home and family would she have if she bought her husband?

No. She would marry for love. It had always been her greatest wish, and while it might be difficult now, she would still attain it.

“You know that is what I wish for, but I will not buy some man and hang my head in shame. I have done nothing wrong.”

He sighed. “I’ve always admired your determination, Sera. But in this instance it will do you no good. If you want a husband, we must buy one. Quickly. There is no other way.” He stood from his chair and looked at her with regret in his eyes. “Let me know what you choose. I will not force a husband upon you. It will be your choice.”

With her final nod, he left.

Looking around her room, she wasn’t filled with the same feeling of contentment. Though ample light spilled through the arched windows, it felt as if it were closing in on her. She was trapped, stifled.

How could this have happened?

Sinking into a chair, her shoulders sagged. Was there really no hope for a love match? The thought paralyzed her.

How would she face everyone now that she was ruined? Over her last two seasons she had seen the ton shun more than one debutant for her indiscretions.

Who had started the rumor?

She had been surprised during her first season to be described as a diamond of the first water. She had always known she was pretty, but she didn’t consider herself to be one of the most beautiful women that year.

With her wealth and beauty, she had been one of the most sought after debutants the past two seasons. And she had certainly made a few other girls jealous.

Why did this have to happen now? She had been so close. So close to all of her dreams. Lord Bromley was the man for her, she knew it. And now it was too late.

She was ruined.

***

Quinton Devericks, the Earl of Surrant, wasn’t sitting in a parlor when he heard the news. He was drunk. Well, halfway drunk. It wasn’t often that he indulged in too much drink, but tonight, he made an exception. The financial hole he had been trying to climb out of had just gotten a lot deeper. Sure, he had finally managed to reconcile with his father’s creditors, but one fact was blatantly clear: he was broke.

There was enough money left over to pay for his living expenses for a few months, but not much else. Properties that had been in his family for hundreds of years had been sold off in order to pay his father’s gambling debts. All that was left were the entailed properties that he was forced to keep, and those were in a sad state of disrepair.

He needed money, and he needed it soon if he was to save his remaining estates from ruin. There was only one thing to do, and the thought struck him to the core. Shuttering, he took another bracing gulp of scotch.

He needed to marry. Quickly.

“Congratulations are in order, my friend,” Lord Harold, Viscount Gloucher, said before seating himself across from Quinton. “Champagne, please,” he called out to a butler that seemed to blend in with the walls.

White’s, a gentleman’s club for only the most exclusive members of the ton, was a place a man could easily go for comfort. Not only was there gaming, which Quinton vowed never to try his hand at, their cellar had some of the finest liquor ever created.

“What shall I congratulate you on?” Quinton asked, taking one last pull of his scotch.

Harold laughed. “Come now, no need to be modest with me. It’s all over town. Brilliant, by the way. Truly. I doubt I would have ever thought to do the same.”

Quinton shook his head, trying to clear his foggy brain. “Honestly, I have no idea what you’re referring to. What is it you think I’ve done?”

“Secured yourself an heiress. I knew you needed money, and that it would only take you a short time to come to the same conclusion.” Their champagne was poured in a cascade of golden bubbles. Harold saluted Quinton with his glass. “And what a prize you’ve secured.”

What was Harold talking about? “I’ve done no such thing. I only came to the realization late last night that I needed a wealthy bride, and I’ve been here ever since.”

The glass in Harold’s hand paused halfway to his lips. “You mean you weren’t at Lady Berkley’s ball last night?”

Quinton’s eyebrow lifted as he gestured to his rumpled clothes. “Do I look like I went to a ball last night?”

“No.” Harold set his glass down very carefully. “Just so I’m clear, you did not go to Lady Berkley’s ball?

“No.”

“And you were here all night?”

“Yes.”

“And there is no way that you compromised Lady Sera Winters in Lady Berkley’s library last night?”

“No. Wait, what?” Quinton jerked forward. “Who’s Lady Sera? Someone thinks I compromised her?”

Harold looked at him with surprise. “Lady Sera is the Duke of Dorchester’s daughter. And it isn’t someone who thinks that. It’s everyone. The news has been on the tip of everyone’s tongue this morning. She is ruined.”

In shock, Quinton leaned back into his chair. “Who would claim such a thing? Certainly not Lady Sera.”

“I don’t know. I had thought you arranged it all as a way to marry Lady Sera quickly and take hold of her dowry.”

“Absolutely not. I do need to marry for money but I would never ruin someone’s reputation over it.”

With a look of distaste, Harold pushed the glass of champagne out of his reach. “It’s a shame then. She was close to receiving a proposal from the Duke of Wathersby. It was rumored that he would propose within a fortnight. I doubt he will extend the offer now.”

Quinton had been absent from the activities of the ton for some time now, but he remembered enough to know that there was no way to recover from a scandal such as this. Her marriage prospects were almost non-existent now.

“She’ll be lucky if she can secure a titled fortune hunter,” Quinton said offhandedly.

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Quinton saw a gleam come in Harold’s eye. “You can’t be serious. I cannot offer for her,” Quinton said in disbelief.

Harold leaned forward. “Of course you can. Who better than you? You need the money, and as you said yourself, she would be lucky to get a title at this point.”

“Only because I supposedly ruined her!”

Harold shrugged. “She knows that didn’t happen. You will be like a knight in shining armor, rescuing her from disgrace.”

“There is still a scandal.”

Waving off Quinton’s statement, Harold said, “You can spin it anyway you like. Say you were proposing, and everyone will think that it is all so romantic. Those things are forgiven immediately.”

Would it really work? Was it possible to have this marriage dilemma over with that quickly? He had been expecting it to take several months at least, scraping by with the pittance he had left. A large dowry is all it would take to make his estates profitable again.

“I know that she is the daughter of a duke, but she may not have a large dowry. There are many families that are titled but have little wealth. How do you know she would be able to bring a large enough dowry into the marriage?” Quinton asked.

Harold laughed outright. “Sometimes I forget how long you have been away from society. Why you wanted to travel the continent for so long is beyond me, but you need not worry on that account. The duke is a very wealthy man, and Lady Sera has been one of the most aggressively pursued debutants the last two seasons because of that wealth. Whoever marries Lady Sera will be a very rich man.”

True, he wasn’t keen on the idea of marrying for money, but there wasn’t anything else to be done about it. He might as well accept his fate and move on as quickly as possible. That much he could do. It was the irony of his situation which he would have a hard time ignoring. He had fled to the continent to escape the loveless marriage his father had tried to trap him into, only to be forced into another one because of his father’s gambling debts.

He would marry Sera and repair his lands with the money she brought into the marriage. In return, he would give her his protection, a title, and her freedom. She had already suffered enough from the scandal, and he had no intention of restricting her once they were married.

“You’re right. This is an excellent opportunity. While I would not have wished her choices to be taken from her, I would be a fool not to act upon what has happened.”

Harold grinned. “You’re right. Now, shall we toast?” He pushed a full glass toward Quinton.

Quinton chuckled. “Why not? My course is set. I am to marry Lady Sera.”

“Here, here!”

Their glasses clinked and Quinton felt the first burst of bubbles on his tongue. His situation would be changing quickly, and while he didn’t harbor any hopes for his marriage, he was optimistic about his future.

Chapter 2

Buying a husband wasn’t something Lady Sera wanted to think about, but she had to. Her father was right, if she did want to get married, she needed to make a decision now if she would settle for a fortune hunter. Was a loveless marriage better than none at all?

Looking out the window of her private receiving room, she watched clouds roll in, squelching the sunshine she had so enjoyed earlier. It seemed fitting to her situation.

A knock sounded at the door before Westly, their butler, entered and announced, “Lady Aubrey for you, my lady.”

Hearing Aubrey’s name announced perked up her spirits. Rising from her chair to greet her best friend, Sera reached out to grip Aubrey’s slender hands. Aubrey’s color was high, showing her distress, but Sera thought the tinge of color on her cheeks was a nice contrast to her pale yellow day dress.

“I just heard an hour ago. How are you holding up?” Aubrey asked, squeezing Sera’s hands.

“As well as can be expected, I guess. I didn’t think you would come. This can’t be good for your own reputation.”

“Please do not concern yourself with my reputation. You know I couldn’t stay away. How could I? If our roles were reversed, I know you would come visit me.” Aubrey’s speckled green eyes staring knowingly into Sera’s.

Sera sighed. She was very grateful that Aubrey was there, but she couldn’t bear the thought of her best friend being tainted by the scandal as well.

They sat on the settee while still clasping hands. The strength that flowed from Aubrey helped her to more easily bear up under the scandal.

“What do you think happened? How could this rumor have gotten started?” Aubrey’s eyebrows furrowed.

Sera knew that her friend would have never put any merit into the rumor. Aubrey had come out into society a month before Sera had, and they had stuck by each other through most of the parties.

Other members of the ton had thought their friendship odd because they seemed so different, but they couldn’t be more wrong. While they differed in looks, they were kindred spirits.

Sera always thought it was a shame that Aubrey didn’t have more dancing partners. It wasn’t that she was plain. Quite the contrary: she was lush, her womanly figure filling out her gowns quite nicely. Her honey-blond hair was glossy in the candlelight, casting a romantic glow over her petite features. She also possessed a stunning intellect and sharp wit that anyone would find appealing.

The problem seemed to be Sera. She had overheard a remark by Lord Denton that when Lady Sera was in attendance, no one could be bothered to pay attention to anyone beside her. It was rubbish of course, but Sera couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for her friend’s lack of attention.

Returning back to their conversation, Sera shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I haven’t even met Lord Devericks. Why my name should even be attached to his is beyond me. Are you acquainted with him?”

Aubrey shook her head slightly. “Not at all. I’ve heard rumors of him, but have never met him myself.”

“What kind of rumors?” Sera asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Well,” Aubrey said in a hushed voice, leaning closer to Sera. “It’s well known that he has been traveling the continent for the last several years. But what isn’t known is why he left in the first place. Several years back, he was one of the most sought after bachelors. Not only did his black hair and green eyes cause women to swoon at the sight of him, but he had a very respectable fortune.”

“Had wealth? You mean he doesn’t anymore?” Sera asked, confusion tingeing her voice.

Aubrey’s mouth fell open. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“His money is gone.”

“All of it?” Sera asked, shocked by the information.

Aubrey nodded. “Yes. In the last few years his father squandered almost everything they had.”

“How is that even possible? With such a fortune I would think it would be difficult to spend it all in a few years.”

“He gambled it away. Some of the gentlemen’s clubs have very high limits, and after several bad bets, it was easy to lose it all.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

Aubrey just shook her head as they sat there in silence, contemplating Sera’s future.

“I know how you feel about love, but are you considering buying a marriage now?”

Sera sighed. “I know that the chances of a good match based on love are now non-existent. I just can’t reconcile myself to that kind of life. I want a family of my own, but I’m torn over if having children to love will be worth having them with a man I don’t love.”

Aubrey squeezed her hand sympathetically before letting go.

“It’s not right. One vicious lie and my life is ruined. I’m sure Lord Devericks will suffer little over this scandal. Men always seem to suffer much less of the repercussions.” She shrugged. “But I know life isn’t fair.”

“I’m so sorry. I wish there were something that could be done to save you from this. I can’t bear to see you hurt,” Aubrey said, a honeyed curl coming loose from her coiffure as she leaned in to hug Sera.

“I know. I do too.” Resigned, Sera stood and walked over to her writing desk. She gathered two sheets of foolscap, a quill, and ink before returning to her seat. “We might as well make a list of eligible fortune hunters.” She paused a moment before they both started laughing. “I know this isn’t a time to laugh, but I can’t help myself. ‘Eligible fortune hunters,’ as if they were desirable.”

“It’s ok. We’ll get through this. Just because we make the list doesn’t mean you need to act upon it.”

Sera nodded a bit numbly. “You’re right. So, where to begin?”

“Lord Nimbly?”

“No.” Sera said, shaking her head firmly. “Not only is he a fortune hunter but he is a rakehell. He would never be faithful to me.”

Aubrey was quiet for a moment.

“I know, I may be expecting too much from a loveless marriage but I won’t have my husband with other women. He is getting my money and in return I will ask for his fidelity.”

“All right. Let’s see… how about Lord Fosterson?”

“He’s a bit on the older side, but that isn’t something I can be picky about,” Sera conceded.

“Perhaps that might be a good thing. You might become a wealthy widow sooner than you expect.”

Forcing a smile, Sera appreciated her friend’s attempt to raise her spirits. “One could only hope.” Writing down Lord Fosterson’s name, she said, “I think Lord Stanton should be included. Not only would his children be beautiful, he seems rather gentlemanly.”

“Agreed. He would be an excellent choice,” Aubrey said, hesitating before she continued. “Have you considered Lord Devericks?”

Sera’s quill paused halfway through writing Lord Stanton’s name. “Actually, no. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Any particular reason?”

Sera set the quill down. “No. I guess I didn’t think of it because we have never met. I do not know his character, and if I must tie myself to someone I don’t love, I want to know that he is someone I could at least like and respect.”

“You might want to consider him.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Aubrey trailed off, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh, I see. You think that if I married him the scandal would be lessened. That my reputation would be restored.”

Aubrey nodded. “Yes. There have been many situations where this has happened and the results were much less lasting. Remember Lady Tewelton? She was compromised by Lord Hendricks, but once their engagement was announced, the gossip stopped.”

“You’re right. I should at least consider him. Perhaps there will be a way for me to meet him.” She paused, weighing the odds. “On second thought, probably not. I can’t imagine he would be too happy to see me since we’re involved in a scandal. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to see me either.”

“You never know. He is probably looking for an heiress.”

“True. It is something to consider.” She nodded, writing his name on the list.

“Sorry to interrupt, my lady, but this just came for you,” Westly said, bringing her a sealed letter.

“Thank you.” Sera accepted the letter with a nod of gratitude.

“Who’s it from?” Aubrey asked after Westly had left the room.

Breaking the seal, Sera glanced to the signature at the bottom of the page.“Lord Devericks,” she said in surprise.

“What does he have to say?” Aubrey leaned forward.

Scanning through the letter twice, she glanced up at Aubrey, who looked like she was about to rip the note out of her hand. “He has the same idea. He has made an offer of marriage and proposes that we spread the word that I accepted his proposal last night at the ball. Would you like me to read it to you?”

“Yes!” Aubrey pounced at the opportunity.

Clearing her throat, Sera read the letter aloud:

Dear Lady Sera,

I have recently been informed about the gossip surrounding us. To start off, I am deeply sorry for the rumor and any repercussions you may be facing because of it. If it were possible, I would find a way to stop these events from happening, but unfortunately, there isn’t much to be done.

I realize that my letter to you is rather unconventional, but I find that we are facing an unconventional situation. To spare you any more unwanted grief, I chose to write you concerning my proposition instead of paying you a visit.

While the damage to your reputation has already been done, I would like to extend an offer of marriage to you. If accepted quickly, your reputation could be repaired. I suggest that we tell others that you were accepting my proposal at Lady Berkley’s last night, and what was seen as a compromising situation was in fact, an engaged couple rejoicing in their love and future together. I realize this may be difficult as we have never met, but I feel confident that we can accomplish this task.

If you decide to accept my proposal, I can speak with your father directly and ask for your hand in marriage.

In time, I hope that we can form a friendship and find contentment from these unfortunate circumstances.

I look forward to hearing your reply.

Sincerely,

Quinton Devericks

“I must say I’m impressed by his sensitivity. Most men wouldn’t have cared how you felt. What do you think?” Aubrey asked.

Sera thought about it a moment. “It’s a good plan. No one would hold the impropriety against us if they thought we were engaged at the time.”

Aubrey nodded in agreement. “There would hardly be a scandal anymore. You would be able to return to society immediately and enjoy the season.”

“Yes. I just don’t know. I hate that I have to make this decision now. There isn’t even a day to think over a choice that will affect the rest of my life.”

Reaching out, Aubrey took Sera’s hand again. “I know. It’s difficult. No one should have to make this choice. And it is only yours to make. Whatever you choose, I will stand by you.”

“I know. Your friendship has meant more to me than anything else. I just wish I knew more about him before deciding whether or not I should marry him. What if he is like his father and squanders all of my money?”

“I don’t think he is.” Aubrey shook her head. “I’ve heard he has settled with most of his father’s creditors and has dealt fairly with them.”

“Well, at least it shows he has honor.” And honor was a quality she held in high esteem.

“Yes. Try to remember, he was the biggest catch a few years ago, there must be a reason for that besides his fortune.”

Sera nodded. “I need a bit of time to think this over.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you to make your decision.”

Both standing, Sera reached out to hug Aubrey. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“You know you can always count on me. Send me word when you make a decision.”

“I will.”

Sera slumped into her chair once Aubrey left. She knew it was the wisest choice to agree to this marriage with Lord Devericks. No scandal would be attached to her name, and her children would never have to face the taint of having a loose woman as their mother.

At least he was honorable. That was something in his favor. He had done what was necessary to settle his father’s debts.

But why had he been on the continent so long? Had something happened to cause him to leave and for his father to gamble their fortune away? It seemed too coincidental that both things had happened around the same time.

Aubrey had said that women found him very attractive. It wouldn’t hurt to have a handsome husband to look at for the rest of her life. Her children would certainly thank her for securing their good looks.

Resting her head on her hands, she wanted to cry. She was basing this momentous decision on that fact that he was handsome and honorable in one instance. Hardly enough information to give her hope about their future together.

But was there any other choice? If she wanted marriage, she needed to decide on a fortune hunter now. And what better choice than the man who had supposedly ruined her?

Honestly, she should be grateful to him. She hadn’t expected him to offer for her.

This was her chance. He was titled and she had money. She would be able to keep her friends and have children.

But would it be enough? Would she truly be satisfied in a marriage without love?

She didn’t seem to have a choice. She would have to marry Lord Devericks and hope that she found contentment.

Standing up, she walked out the door to tell her father of her choice. She just wished it felt like happy news instead of a death sentence. In a way, it was. Her dreams had died.

Two days later, their engagement was set in the eyes of the ton. There had been many moments during the announcement of her engagement that she had worried about her decision, but there was no going back now. A broken engagement, especially after her previous scandal, would be even worse than before.

No. She would marry Lord Devericks.

Her father had been pleased with the arrangement. At least as pleased as he could be considering her fiancé was not the Duke of Wathersby, and that she would not be a duchess.

While no one besides Aubrey had come to visit her the previous day, they flooded her doorstep en-masse once her engagement was announced. Not that she received any of them. She just couldn’t face the smiles and congratulations yet.

She hadn’t even met her fiancé for heaven’s sake! When he had arrived to speak with her father, she had been ushered out on a last minute shopping excursion.

Tonight was the first time they would meet each other, but since it was at a public affair, there was no room for awkwardness or their plans would be ruined.

“Ready for this?” Aubrey asked, walking into Sera’s receiving room.

Sera nodded, smoothing the shimmering ivory silk of her ball gown. She was grateful Aubrey had offered to arrive with her at the ball. All eyes would be on her tonight, and she was happy to have someone at her side through it all. “You look wonderful,” Sera said, admiring how the rose silk of Aubrey’s gown made her skin look flawless.

“Thank you.” Aubrey reached up to her hair, touching a pink rosebud that secured her coiffure. Her friend shined, and Sera hoped that she would catch the eye of one of the gentlemen tonight.

“Well, let’s get on with it. The sooner we’re off, the sooner it will be over.”

“Don’t worry, after tonight everyone will have something else to talk about.”

Sera donned her matching pelisse, smoothing the material once again. “I know. I just don’t like it. I hate that I have to pretend to love someone I’ve never even met.”

“I know.” Aubrey nodded sympathetically. “You can do this though.”

Her father was waiting for them in the carriage. Once they were all settled, they began the short journey to the ball. They were arriving fashionably late so that everyone would be in attendance for their performance.

“It will be all right,” her father tried to reassure her.

Sera nodded numbly, trying to make her father feel better, but she knew it wouldn’t be all right. How could it be? She would be making a mockery of love and marriage, and there was no hope of ever having those things now. “Let’s go.”

Ascending the steps, Sera let out a pent up breath.

“Lord Winters, Duke of Dorchester, Lady Sera, and Lady Aubrey,” the announcer called out to the packed ballroom.

Like a wave cresting over the room, their voices were extinguished one by one. Holding her head up high, she walked slowly in the room. A serene smile on her face, almost as if she hadn’t a clue that she was the center of attention.

Please let this end soon, she thought, scanning the crowd.

But it was only just the beginning.

CHAPTER 3

Hearing his fiancée announced, Quinton turned toward the door like everyone else to watch the Duke of Dorchester and his daughter walk into the room. He remembered Lord Winters from their meeting the previous day, but he didn’t recognize Lady Sera.

Wrapped in a pink gown with matching roses in her dirty-blond hair, his soon to be bride was announced directly after her father. While not exceptionally beautiful, she did have several features that he considered pleasing. His sigh of relief was immediate. He hadn’t thought to inquire about the woman’s looks until after the bargain had been struck. The dread he had been feeling, not knowing if he would be able to bed the woman, had loosened in his gut.

Marrying her wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he had feared.

The moment his fiancée moved out of the way, her friend, Lady Aubrey, walked in after, glowing in a shimmery ivory dress. His breath stolen, all he could do was stare at her. This was Lady Aubrey?

She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Her hair couldn’t have been described as blond; it was more a silvery gold that captured the candlelight. She was slim, with curves in all the right places, forcing any man to see her as the woman she was. He could probably wrap his hands around her entire waist.

This woman would be visiting his wife in his home once they were married. He would always be in close proximity, always tempted by her beauty, but never able to act upon it.

He cursed. What had he done so completely wrong in his life that he would be tortured so acutely? There would never be anyway to have her. She was the best friend of his soon-to-be bride.

Why couldn’t he have met her sooner? Why did he have to see her now when there was nothing he could do to have her?

“Beautiful isn’t she?” Lord Harold said, coming up beside him.

“Breathtaking,” he replied, looking at his fiancée’s friend. “Are you ready to play your part in this farce?”

Harold nodded, watching the two women. “Don’t worry, Quinton. I’ll make sure she knows who you are. No one will realize I’m introducing you.” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

Quinton rolled his eyes. Only Harold would make light of such a situation. Of course, he wasn’t the one marrying a stranger.

He tried watching his fiancée, but his eyes kept trailing back to the beauty in ivory. He had to get ahold of himself. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he kept up this infatuation with Lady Sera’s best friend.

The noise level in the room had risen once again after Lord Winters broke off from the women. “It’s time,” Quinton said.

Harold nodded, walking toward the two women. It only took a moment for the noise level to drop again. The room seemed to strain toward the small group, stretching to hear any tidbit of conversation.

Harold bowed toward the women. “My ladies, we feared you would not be able to join us this evening. Lord Devericks has been pining to see you Lady Sera.”

Quinton barely heard his friend as he watched the two women jerk in surprise. Both sets of eyes, his fiancée’s, a pretty speckled green, and her friend’s, a deep blue, the hue of the deepest lake, looked toward him in surprise before the emotion was quickly masked.

“I am glad to find that you are both looking well this evening. I hope that I will be able to secure a dance with each of you,” Quinton said, charm flowing naturally from his voice.

He could tell they were both pleased by his offer. It was expected that he would dance with his fiancée, especially to cement their relationship in the eyes of society, but it went far and beyond the call of duty to pay attention to her friend as well.

He extended his arm to the lady in the rose gown and asked, “Will you do me the honor?”

There was a gasp behind him and the two women looked a bit stunned as if they weren’t sure what they should do. Finally, the lady nodded, accepting his arm.

Walking to the floor, they lined up for the dance.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Quinton was a bit confused. “I’m dancing with you. It seemed appropriate,” he whispered, making sure only she heard his words.

She shook her head. “You are supposed to be dancing with Lady Sera, not me. Everyone was expecting you to ask her first.”

Shock pumped through him. “You’re not Lady Sera?”

“What?” Now she was the one who looked shock. “You thought I was Lady Sera?”

“Yes, her name was announced before yours but you walked in first.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Oh. Yes, I could see how that would cause confusion. I’m Lady Aubrey, Lady Sera’s friend.”

She was Lady Aubrey. That meant—could it be true?

He looked wildly around the room until he locked eyes with the woman in ivory. The woman whom he had thought was his fiancée’s best friend. The woman who was to be his wife.

He almost stopped breathing as he looked at her, taking in every inch. She would belong to him, only him. A fierce wave of possessiveness and satisfaction swept through him. She would be his.

To everyone else in the room, everything was put to rights. Although he had asked the best friend to dance, he was gazing longingly at the woman whom he supposedly loved. He just seemed much more the gentleman to dance with the less beautiful woman first.

His eyebrow arched when he saw a twinkle in her eye. Had she guessed what had happened? She seemed to be amused by the situation. He hoped she was.

“I apologize for the confusion,” he said, turning his attention back to Aubrey. “This shouldn’t interfere with our charade.”

“I agree. Everyone seems to be going back to their own business. As long as you dance with Lady Sera next, it should be fine.”

He nodded in agreement as the music began.

The quadrille was an intricate dance, but he had memorized the steps long before. At this point, it was muscle memory that got him through the movements. Every thought was on Sera.

After the last bow, signaling the end of the dance, Quinton escorted Aubrey back toward Sera. “Lady Sera, might I claim you for the next?” he asked, his voice a rich timbre.

A small smile appeared on her lips. “I would like nothing more.” She favored him with a deep curtsy.

The room quieted again, and Quinton felt everyone’s eyes on his back. He didn’t care though. All he could think about was this woman: how she looked, smelled, moved. His whole body seemed to be in tune with her.

Placing her hand on his arm as if they were familiar with each other, he led her to the floor. The first few notes of a waltz began, casting the room in a romantic tone. A few sighs could be heard from across the room as he slowly brought Sera against him.

He wanted to pull her into him, plaster her against his frame, but that would only cause another scandal. No, they had to behave with the utmost propriety, but he could dream about it.

As the introduction music ended, Quinton began the steps that had them twirling in each other’s arms around the floor.

She fit against him so perfectly. They seemed in tune with each other’s steps. So much so that he had no problem leading her through the music, their steps light as they swirled through the room.

He knew everyone was watching. Everyone was looking for evidence of their passion. And he was never one to disappoint. He had been prepared to feign desire, but with Sera, no pretense was necessary.

He wanted her. And it was plain for everyone to see.

He wondered if she felt the same pull as he, if she were just as in tune with him as he was with her.

He wanted this moment to last, to draw out every last ounce of music. It was with much regret when it came to an end and he had to take his hands off of her.

Wondering how soon he could get her back into his embrace, he escorted her to her companion. He hoped it would be soon.

***

To say that Sera was surprised was an understatement. She was shocked. This gorgeous, black-haired man who had eyes the color of fresh moss was Lord Devericks?

After a few deep breaths, Sera was prepared to dance with him, only to have him ask Aubrey first. Confusion settled within her, but it only took a moment to realize what had happened. He thought Aubrey was his fiancée!

She could tell the second he learned of his mistake, and it took every ounce of her control to stop herself from laughing aloud at the expression on his face.

She had to hold her laughter inside. It would only cause suspicion for her to laugh at her fiancé during their first appearance together.

The humor began to fade, quickly replaced by another feeling as he looked to her. He gazed at her with such blatant hunger that she almost gasped from the intensity.

Telling herself to break away from his eyes, she tried to look at another part of him that was less imposing, less powerful, but she couldn’t. She was held captive by his stare.

Blushing, she realized he wasn’t looking away from her. He was absorbing her from the top of her head to her toes. Nothing seemed to escape his notice. When his eyes returned to hers, the look he gave her was filled with such appreciation that she couldn’t help but blush again.

When the music began, he turned to dance with Aubrey, which Sera was grateful for. She wasn’t used to being looked at with such possessiveness. She hadn’t realized how powerful it would make her feel.

She felt proud that he was attracted to her. Not that she had anything to do with her own looks, but she felt womanly, beautiful. More so than she had ever felt before.

He moved well, she noted. Watching as he performed the intricate patterns of the quadrille with Aubrey, she saw that he never missed a step.

Unable to stop herself, her gaze lingered over him. His shoulders were broad, heavily corded with muscles that tapered down to a narrow waist. His legs ate up the floor as he danced, strong and sure. He was about a half a foot taller than her, but he seemed so much bigger, so much more imposing. There was something about him that didn’t seem quite tame. His clothes were of the highest quality, but it was the man himself that seemed to be a bit uncivilized. Was it his travels on the continent that had given him a touch of the wild?

The dance ended in a flurry of bows, and her heart began to beat heavily in her chest as he came to claim her for the next.

Placing her hand on his arm, she felt the muscles bunch underneath her touch. The give of his skin through the layers of his clothes felt so intimate. Why had she never noticed that with another man before?

His arm came around her as the music began, and that was when she stopped thinking. She could only feel.

Her pulse melded with his as they glided through the steps. Completely in tune with him, her body moved and swayed with the music. Everything seemed to dim, the music, the lights. Everything except her heartbeat. The deep, even rhythm had picked up, almost keeping pace with the tempo of the music.

Looking up, she closed her eyes against the cascading fire that shot through the crystals in the chandelier. Were they sparkling as brightly a moment ago, or had they just started?

She didn’t understand it. She couldn’t.

What was happening to her? Did Lord Devericks feel it as well? Trying to be inconspicuous, Sera glanced at his face, trying to discern if he felt something out of the ordinary.

He seemed composed, his features serene. Almost as if he didn’t realize everyone was watching them. But did he feel the pull between them? Had he felt how the world seemed to dim when she stepped into his arms?

He was a stranger. There was no reason he should have such an effect on her. But for whatever reason, he did.

The final note of the song drew out, ripping her out of the trance. It was over so soon? It felt as if they had just come together.

With a final curtsy, she took his arm, hearing the noise level raise, no doubt in conversation about what they had just witnessed.

He leaned down to her ear. “I think we’ve passed the first hurdle. Everyone seems convinced.”

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her thoughts. “Yes. I wonder if that is all it will take.”

“Probably not. We should try to stay within eyesight of each other the rest of the evening to keep up appearances.”

“Of course,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant even though her pulse raced. What was it about him that made her so unsteady?

“I’m sorry that we haven’t had a chance to talk yet. I hope to remedy that very soon.”

“I would like that,” she whispered. And she would. She desperately wanted to know about the man who would be her husband.

“Soon.”

She nodded her agreement. “Soon.”

He bowed once again before leaving her with Aubrey. Another dance began, and the other guests seemed to return to normal.

“Well, how was it?” Aubrey whispered.

“We seem to dance well together,” she said, trying to make light of her feelings.

Aubrey’s eyebrow rose in disbelief. “He seems very attracted to you. Although I can’t say I’m surprised. Almost every man in this room is.” She let out an inelegant snort. “Were you as surprised as I was when he thought I was you? I couldn’t believe it when he asked me to dance first. I’m sure others were equally as shocked.”

Sera chuckled softly. “I think I saw Lady Bransberry choke on her lemonade when he offered you his arm. He handled himself quite well though.” They laughed as they thought of the ton’s biggest gossip being taken by surprise.

Aubrey nodded. “I think you might be able to convince everyone that it is a love match.”

“I hope so. Or else this will all be for nothing.” Sera looked toward the opposite side of the room where the refreshment table was. “I’m rather thirsty. Would you come with me to get a glass of lemonade?”

“Of course. It’s quite hot in here,” Aubrey agreed.

Why weren’t any of the windows open yet? It would only get worse as the night wore on.

Sera nodded toward Aubrey’s hair. “One of your pins has come loose.”

Raising a hand, Aubrey reached up to the fallen curl. “Bugger,” she said under her breath. “I’ll go repair it quickly. Wait for me here?”

Sera nodded before Aubrey took off toward the lady’s retiring room.

Gratefully accepting a cup of lemonade from a server, she sighed. The first sip of the tart beverage was like heaven on her tongue.

“Well, I must say that I am surprised to see you here,” a silky smooth voice announced from behind her.

Sera closed her eyes on an oath. Lady Victoria. She should have known the viper would seek her out so quickly.

Turning with a smile, Sera greeted her. “Hello, Lady Victoria. You are looking well this evening. That shade of blue is quite becoming on you.”

In a feminine gesture, Lady Victoria reached down to smooth her skirts. “Yes, well, I have often been told so. That ivory gown is also lovely. Although, I must say I am surprised you aren’t wearing red.”

“ I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Sera said, but she did. Red was worn by experienced women, especially ones of the demimonde, but she wasn’t going to give Victoria the satisfaction of becoming upset by her comment.

Victoria smirked. “Oh, come now. I know the truth, Sera.”

Sera’s smile became brittle as dread filled her belly. Could Victoria possibly know that it was all a hoax? No, no one knew that. She was just fishing for another scandal.

It seemed that from the moment Sera had made her entrance into society, Victoria had been waiting for her downfall. Victoria was beautiful. With rich black hair and crystal blue eyes, she was the most sought after debutant. At least until Sera had entered society. From that moment on, Sera had been the most popular, and Victoria had come in second. She had never gotten over that fact and rejoiced in making Sera’s life miserable whenever she could manage it.

“The truth of what?” Sera finally replied.

Victoria looked over her shoulder then leaned forward as if to tell her a secret. “I know that your engagement was set because of the scandal. You and Lord Devericks are no love match.”

“Really? And how would you know that?”

Victoria shrugged. “It’s rather obvious. I can tell he doesn’t really care for you. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he started the gossip himself so that he could secure your dowry.”

Sera’s gasp only seemed to encourage Victoria. “I can’t blame him though.” She picked at one of her nails. “If I were in such terrible financial straits as he, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.”

Could it be true? Sera hadn’t even considered that Lord Devericks would do such a thing until that moment. He had motive, but why her? There were many girls that had large dowries. And it wasn’t as if he wanted her for her looks since he had first thought Aubrey was his fiancée.

No, she didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t. Yet, the doubt continued to grow within her. Victoria had planted the seed and it seemed to take root.

“Lady Sera, I hoped to claim the next dance. Are you available?” Lord Devericks asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“Why, yes. I would be delighted,” she said shakily, glancing back at Victoria who was fuming from Lord Devericks’ attention.

He whisked her toward the middle of the dance floor, well away from anyone that could hear them. “Is everything all right? You seemed really upset,” he whispered in her ear.

Had he been watching her entire conversation with Victoria? “Yes.” She tried to shake off the doubts that lingered in her mind. “She doesn’t believe that we are a love match. She thinks it’s a sham, which of course it is, but it makes me wonder if others don’t believe as well.”

He scanned the room, seeming to take stock of people’s reaction. “I don’t think there is anything to worry about. Most of the women that are watching us don’t look disbelieving.”

Sera glanced around the room while taking position for the next dance. She had to agree; most were, in fact, looking at her fiancé with longing.

She could understand the women’s attractions. Her fiancé was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Did he realize the reactions he was setting off? Glancing up at him, he seemed oblivious.

Could he have started the rumor? The arm around her waist was protective, and she was glad he had scooped her away from Victoria’s claws, but could she trust him? Was he the type to manipulate someone else for his gain?

If only she had time to get to know him before they married. It was impossible.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“I was wondering if you were trustworthy.”

Her bluntness seemed to surprise him. “I would like to think so. I try to conduct myself with honor.”

Searching his face, she looked for any reassurance that she could believe him. She wanted to, but didn’t know if she should. “I will keep that in mind.”

His hand tightened on her waist. “You may always ask me anything. I would like us to be friends.”

Friends. The word seemed so tame compared to what she had hoped to have in marriage. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate him reaching out to her, she did. She just wished there was love between them.

At least they would be able to start their marriage on friendly terms.

“I would as well. I hope that we can come to trust each other,” she said softly.

“I trust you.”

She glanced up at him in surprise. “You do? Why?”

“Why not?” He shrugged slightly as he lifted his arm to spin her. “I see no reason not to.”

“But I have done nothing to earn your trust.”

“I would like to give you my trust until you do something that makes me feel otherwise.”

She shook her head. “That’s silly. You don’t know anything about me. How could you possibly know if I am honorable?”

“I don’t. But it is my hope that you are. You have made a commitment to marry me, even though you know nothing about me, and I know you will keep your end of the bargain. You already are by pretending this is a love match. You have already begun to prove yourself to me.”

She wished it were simple for her as well. She wanted to trust him as blindly as he seemed to be able to do. Oh, why did Victoria have to mess with her? She would have never suspected Lord Devericks if it weren’t for her interference.

They gave one another a final bow before he escorted her back to the refreshments.

“I’ll be close by if you need anything,” he whispered to her.

She appreciated his offer. He was being much more kind than she expected him to be. Much more attentive.

“Lord Devericks asked you to dance again?” Aubrey asked once he had left Sera at her side. “I’m surprised he would ask so soon when you’re only allowed two dances.”

“I was grateful for his assistance. He interrupted a conversation with Victoria,” she whispered.

Sera didn’t need to add anything else. Aubrey was well aware of the woman’s behavior and easily guessed what had happened.

Leading Sera toward a private alcove between potted plants, she whispered, “What did she say?”

“Oh, it isn’t worth repeating.” Sera tried to wave off her friend’s concern.

Aubrey’s brow raised in a golden arch. “We both know that isn’t true. She’s a jealous viper that would love to see you ripped apart. I can only imagine what she said once the two of you were alone.”

Sera sighed. “She said she knew that this wasn’t a love match, and that Lord Devericks was probably responsible for the scandal in the first place.”

In any other instance, Sera would have found Aubrey’s open-mouthed reaction hilarious, but she couldn’t muster up the laughter now.

“That vicious…” Aubrey trailed off, taking a deep breath. “You know that isn’t true. She’s just saying that to get under your skin. I can’t believe she would sink so low now that you are out of the picture. You would think she would leave things alone now that you are engaged.”

“I doubt she’ll ever leave me alone.”

Aubrey studied Sera’s face. “You don’t believe her do you? You know she would say anything to upset you.”

“I know.” Sera rubbed her temples. “I know she only said it to upset me, but what if she’s right? What if he actually did start the rumor?”

“Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“For my dowry.”

Aubrey’s head shook firmly. “No. There are many other girls with dowries. There would have to be a specific reason he would trap you.”

“Perhaps he only considered that my father was a duke and wanted the connection.” She shrugged.

“I don’t think so.” Aubrey paused as if considering something. “Have you thought about asking him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I think it might be good to get it out in the open.”

“I can’t do that now,” she said, frustration tingeing her voice.

“Why is that?”

“Because during our last dance he told me that he trusted me and that he would until I gave him a reason not to. He said I could trust him, that he was honorable.”

“But you don’t believe him?”

Sera threw her hands out to her sides in frustration. “I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know him or anything about him. All I know is that a rumor started about us and then he wrote to me with a proposal of marriage.”

Taking Sera’s hands, Aubrey squeezed. “We will figure this out. We will find out the truth.”

Nodding, Sera squeezed back, grateful for her reassurance and help. Sera wasn’t quite sure what she would do without Aubrey’s friendship.

“Come on, let’s go watch the others dance.”

Taking a seat against the wall, normally reserved for wallflowers, the two sat in silence as couples twirled by in a flurry of lace and satin.

The ballroom was large—larger than most anyway. The parquet flooring glistened with a new coat of beeswax that mingled with the scent of women’s perfume. Three imposing chandeliers were glowing from hundreds of candles, their light reflecting off thousands of teardrop crystals.

Sera loved the rosy, romantic feeling the light created. Joined with the weeping sounds of violins, she always felt that it was the perfect atmosphere for falling in love.

The high, arching windows had finally been opened, but it only served to let in a light breeze. There wouldn’t be much escaping the heat in the room unless one went outside.

Leaning forward, she looked through an open pair of French doors out to the lit garden. Candles had been placed outside, softly illuminating the stone benches and garden beyond the balcony. Having been to a ball here before, she knew there was a staircase to the left of the doorway that led down into the gardens.

“Last time I was here, I would have never guessed that my life would take a turn like this,” Sera finally said.

“I know.”

“At least I know that you will be able to have what I won’t. That will give me some comfort.”

Aubrey let out a humorless laugh.

“Why do you laugh?”

“Look at me, Sera. I’m hardly the beauty you are.”

“That’s not true,” Sera said, sounding upset by her friend’s dismissal of her qualities. “You are beautiful, intelligent, and have a great sense of humor. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“It’s sweet of you to say so. I know I am no beauty as you are. My hair is more brown than blond, my figure more suited to a mistress than a wife. I like my eyes, but they aren’t extraordinary. Many people have hazel coloring.”

“You’re so much more than that. I hope to be around when you realize it.”

“You need not feel sorry for me, Sera. I am quite happy with myself. I make the most out of what I have and I also have a respectable dowry. I shouldn’t have too much trouble securing a husband.”

“I know. I just hope that you find the love you desire.”

“Yes, and that’s what makes you a great friend.” Aubrey’s eyes widened as she looked over Sera’s shoulder. “Goodness, Lord Bromley is heading this way.”

“He is?” Sera had no idea why the duke would approach her now. While she had considered him a friend, she was an engaged woman now, and there was no hope for a future between them.

Even if Aubrey hadn’t told her he was making his way toward them, she would have known something was happening that involved her. The noise level had dropped again as the duke approached her, everyone waiting to see how her old suitor would be greeted. Would this night ever end?

Sera turned, a serene smile on her face. “Lord Bromley, how wonderful to see you.”

He raised her hand in a courtly gesture as he bowed over it, his light brown hair remaining perfectly in place. She had always wondered how he consistently managed to look immaculate. His evening attire was made of the finest material and cut to perfection. While he didn’t have the bulk in his shoulders that Lord Devericks did, he was certainly pleasing to look at in his black evening jacket.

His light brown eyes smiled back into hers. “I am pleased to see you as well, Lady Sera. I had hoped to claim you for this next dance if you are available.”

“Of course.”

He gave another nod of greeting to Aubrey as he assisted Sera from her seat. “Lady Aubrey, it is always a pleasure to see you as well. I hope you will save me a dance for later this evening.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Aubrey answered him with a polite smile.

Lord Bromley had always asked Aubrey to dance after he danced with Sera. That courtesy was something she had always appreciated. No other gentlemen had gone out of their way to make sure that her friend had a pleasant time as well. Bradford, Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby, always seemed to understand that Sera was not content unless Aubrey danced as well.

Whisking her to the floor, the first few chords of the allemande started.

“I want to congratulate you on your engagement. Devericks is a lucky man,” he said, moving her through the steps of the dance.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to sound cheerful at the mention of her fiancé.

“I must say I am surprised and a bit disappointed though. I had hoped to come to some understanding with you shortly. It seems I waited too long.”

Hearing what she had suspected all along, that he had been close to proposing to her, caused a sharp pain in her heart. She really did care for him. Now, there was nothing to be done but move on and play the part she had agreed to.

With a heavy heart, she plastered a small smile to her face. “I am sorry about that. Lord Devericks and I just seemed to come together in a way I hadn’t felt before. I care for you very much as a friend, and I hope that we can remain as such.”

“I would like that as well.”

Changing partners for a moment, she scanned the room for her fiancé. Where was he? She could have sworn she felt his eyes on her, but he was nowhere to be found.

Returning to Bradford, his eyes roamed her face, seeming to search for something in her expression.

“May I cut in?” She almost winced at the edge in her fiancé’s voice.

Except for the musicians, the room hushed. This was exactly what the gossipmongers wanted: a scene between her fiancé and her previous suitor.

The three stood there in silence for a moment, the two men sizing each other up.

Bradford finally smiled. “Certainly,” he said to Lord Devericks before turning back toward her. “I hope that you will save me another dance as well.”

“I would be happy to.” She forced another smile before he left, her fiancé taking his place.

The gasps that sounded around her caused her to curse softly. Three dances. He had three dances from her tonight. It was unacceptable in the eyes of society.

It was almost as bad as the gossip that she had been compromised. Well, if anyone doubted that they were truly together, this would rid them of their skepticism.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked him, her temper rising.

He looked a bit astonished. “What am I doing? I think the better question is what are you doing? We are supposed to be a couple now, or have you already forgotten?”

“How could I ever forget such a thing now that I am ruined? By cutting in, you’ve made us a spectacle.”

“We already were.”

“You know what I mean,” she said through her teeth. “Three dances with the same partner is obscene.”

He shrugged.

“You don’t care, do you?”

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “While it may be seen as improper, it is also cementing our engagement into everyone’s minds. They know we are together, that we are getting married. What more could be said about us?”

He had a point, but she still didn’t like it. She wanted this evening to be the end of all the gossip, but it seemed as if it would not be ending any time soon.

While the three dances were unconventional, they were newly engaged, and she hoped that people would see it in a romantic light.

“I think I’ve had enough for this evening,” she said wearily.

He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll find your father and let him know you are ready to retire.”

While she didn’t want his interference, she was grateful he took upon the task of finding her father. The room was overly crowded, and she knew it would take some time locating him.

Leaving her in Aubrey’s care, the two women sat in chairs abutting the wall, a short distance away from the dance floor.

When her father arrived, she was relieved that the night was over. She was exhausted beyond measure, and was done pretending to be blissfully in love.

She needed a bath, and maybe even a good long cry. Perhaps things would look better in the morning, but she couldn’t see how they would.

***

It was late on the night of the ball, and Quinton was settling down in a chair in the library with a brandy. Deciding not to return to his apartments, Harold had opted to stay in one of the guest rooms.

“You cannot tell me you had no idea that Lady Sera looked like that,” Harold said, disbelieving Quinton’s shock at his bride’s beauty. “You went to her home yesterday to speak with her father. I won’t believe it.”

Sipping his drink, Quinton laughed. “Believe what you like, my friend, but I had no clue. I was relieved when I saw Lady Aubrey, thinking that it wouldn’t be hard to bed her, but there was such disappointment when I saw Lady Sera, believing her to be my fiancée’s best friend.”

“Lucky sot.”

Quinton lifted his glass in a solute. “Agreed. She could have married anyone she pleased. With her dowry and looks, she could have had a king.”

“But instead she’ll have you.”

“Yes.” Quinton nodded.

Finishing his drink, Harold set the glass down on a side table. “Well I’m off to bed. I should be out of here before you wake.”

“There’s no hurry,” Quinton said, waving his friend’s concerns away as he left the room.

Quinton didn’t sleep much that night. The dreams he had of Sera hadn’t made it easy to rest. By morning he wasn’t in the best of moods. The snippets of sleep he had gotten the previous night weren’t enough to keep his body functioning or put him in a chipper mood.

“Has Harold already left?” Quinton asked one of the maids as he finished off his eggs in the dining room.

“Yes, my lord. He left almost an hour ago,” she said with a curtsy, beginning to carry on with her duties when she paused. “Sorry to disturb you, Lord Devericks, but I wanted to let you know that a letter arrived for you about half an hour ago. It was put in your study.”

He gave her a quick nod before she left the room.

A letter at this hour? It wasn’t even past eight in the morning. It couldn’t be urgent, or someone would have taken it to him immediately, but still, someone had thought it important enough to write first thing.

Intrigued, Quinton wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed out of his chair.

When he entered his study, the letter, with his name neatly scrawled on the front, had been placed in the middle of his over-sized desk just waiting to be read.

Sitting in his Louis XIV chair, he sliced the wax seal off with a small sword-shaped letter opener.

The faint flowery scent caused his dreams to rush back in full force; effectively tearing down the blocks he had put in place to block his fiancée from his mind.

Sera.

He didn’t need to scan down the page for the signature. The scent that clung to the pages told him who the author was.

Lord Devericks,

I apologize for the early hour in which I am sending you this letter. It is my hope that it will find you before you begin your day. If you are available, I would beg for some of your time today. There is something I must ask you and I would prefer to discuss it in person. I look forward to receiving your letter of reply.

Sincerely,

Lady Sera Winters

What could she possibly have to ask him that was so important? He had just seen her last night at the ball, and she hadn’t indicated there was anything that needed to be discussed. Reaching for a piece of foolscap and ink, he began penning his response.

Dear Lady Sera,

I must say, I am intrigued by your letter. I am available to meet you at your home around eleven this morning. Would that be sufficient?

Lord Quinton Devericks

CHAPTER 4

After reading Lord Devericks’ reply, Sera began to pace. He would be here in two hours. The sleep that she so desperately needed the night before had eluded her, allowing her doubts about him to creep in.

She had to ask him if he started the rumor. She needed to see his face whether he admitted or denied it. Would she believe him if he said that he hadn’t started it?

He was the only person who gained something by lying. The only person who was desperate enough.

His answer wouldn’t change anything. At least it wouldn’t seem to change anything to anyone else. She was locked into this marriage. The enormity of the scandal that would occur if she broke their engagement was something she couldn’t face. No, there was no turning back.

This meeting was just to gain insight into the character of the man she was to marry, to figure out how she would feel about him throughout their marriage.

Rising, she rang for Lydia, her lady’s maid, to help her dress. She wanted to be fully prepared to greet her fiancé well before he arrived.

The next two hours flew by quickly. After a bath, her hair was dried and plaited into an artful sweep, secured by a few citrine pins. The yellow day dress she had picked to wear complimented her golden hair, making her feel like a queen.

She waited in her receiving room, having already alerted the servants to the earl’s visit. At precisely eleven, she heard the unmistakable sound of knocking at her front door.

Well, at least he’s prompt. That’s something in his favor.

And it was. A prompt person was usually a responsible one, and it was an attribute she could admire in a spouse.

“Lord Devericks, the Earl of Surrant for you,” her butler bowed with the announcement.

“Thank you. Please show him in.”

A moment later, her fiancé strolled into the room, looking clean and fresh and exceedingly handsome in his buff colored breeches and morning coat. His black hair glistened, still damp from his bath, and she could smell the spicy scent of his soap.

She had acknowledged the large breadth of his shoulders last night, but he seemed to be built equally as well everywhere else. The material clung to his thighs; the muscles flexed and bulged underneath the tight cloth.

His arms were also large, more suited to a footman than to an English lord, but they matched the rest of his large frame.

Trailing up to his face, she saw humor in his emerald eyes, clearly amused by her perusal of him.

She had been taken by his face last night, but in the light of day, without the pressures of performing in front of the rest of the ton, she was able to truly enjoy how handsome her fiancé was. His nose was straight, but not pointy like so many other members of the aristocracy. His chin was hard, square with a slight cleft in the middle.

He was strong, powerful looking, and different from other members of their class. He had worked hard to acquire those muscles.

“See something you like?” he teased as he took a seat across from her.

“Yes,” she replied candidly, enjoying the surprise that shot across his face. “You are a very handsome man. Does this surprise you?”

“No, your honesty does though. I had expected you to blush or stammer out an excuse like so many other inexperienced girls.”

She shook her head with a soft laugh. “I should apologize now if that is what you are expecting of me. I fear I can’t pull off that certain attribute. I am usually much more forthcoming with people I am well acquainted with.”

“I am pleased to hear it, a sensible wife is always a desirable thing,” he said, nodding to the maid who brought in a tea service and biscuits.

“Shall I pour you a cup?” Sera offered.

“Yes, please. Just milk, no sugar.”

With a nod, she began readying their tea. Performing this small task helped her get her mind back on track. True, he was handsome. But she hadn’t asked him here so that she could stare at him or make idle chit-chat. She needed answers for her own peace of mind.

After handing him his cup, she quickly prepared her own.

“I asked you here to speak of our marriage,” she began, hesitating by taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “We don’t know each other, and the thought of marrying under such circumstances disturbs me. I had hoped we could spend a bit of time getting to know one another.”

“Seems reasonable to me. What would you like to know?”

“Why type of man you are,” she said bluntly.

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

She set her teacup down. “I would like to know if you are honorable, how you would act in particular instances, if I can trust you, if you will be faithful to me during our marriage. All of these pieces of information will fit together to let me know how our life will be together.”

Mirroring her, he set down his teacup and leaned forward, steepling his hands as he stared at her. She appreciated bluntness and honesty but his sole focus on her was a bit unnerving. She didn’t think anyone had ever stared at her so intently.

“I am more than happy to answer any of your questions, but may I ask one first? Where is this coming from?”

“I would like to know about the man I am marrying.”

He shook his head. “I know you are curious about me, but there is something else going on here, I can feel it. What I can’t figure out is why you won’t tell me.”

How could he know there was an additional reason for her questions? She had been speaking to him like she had last night. How would he react if she told him she suspected he was behind the gossip? Well, she was curious about what kind of man he is, wouldn’t his reaction tell her much about his character?

“Obviously, I’ve been unable to think of anything besides our engagement and the gossip that led to it.” She took a deep breath. “Considering that you never compromised me, the gossip isn’t true. I have been curious why our names are linked together. What was the purpose of it?”

“I have no idea. I’ve wondered the same myself.”

“Really?” she asked, skepticism tingeing her voice.

His eyebrow arched again, but he remained silent.

“I’ve been wondering why someone would start the rumor. Who would gain something by it?” She looked at him pointedly.

He laughed out loud. “You can’t possibly believe I would start it. I didn’t even know you, or have you already forgotten that? Why would I force a marriage between us when you could have been old, fat, or ugly? No, you need not look in my direction. I had nothing to do with this.”

“So, there was no possible motive for you to start this? Am I mistaken that you need a wealthy bride?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She didn’t like to be laughed at, and she felt she was justified in her suspicions.

Holding out his hands, he looked as if he had nothing to hide. “I’ve never made a secret that I needed to marry for money. My father’s debts were well known, and therefore everyone else in the ton knew of them and my situation once I took the title. I do need a wealthy bride, but I could have had my pick of other women. There are many other debutants with respectable dowries.”

“But none have connections with a duke. I can see many men manipulating someone to get that kind of money and connection.”

He nodded. “I can as well, but I assure you, I would never do such as thing,” he said calmly, rationally. “I would have much preferred to have the choice of my own bride. While I am in bad financial straits, I could have survived several more months without making a choice. On top of all that, I would never be so desperate as to ruin someone else’s chances in life.”

“If not you, then who? I know of no other person who would benefit from something like this.” Frustration colored her voice.

There had to be something she was missing. Was he lying? Glancing up, she studied his face, his body language. He seemed sincere, but she knew she would never know for certain. He could be a very gifted liar.

“You may not trust me now but you will in time,” he said, effectively reading her thoughts. “Whether you believe this or not, I will never lie to you. I will always be honest with you, even if it might hurt your feelings. You’ve suffered enough from lies and manipulation, I will not add to it.”

His words comforted her, but not enough to open her heart to him. In time, she might be able to trust him, but she didn’t think she could ever believe him in this instance. It was so easy to spread one small lie, and then never lie again once you got what you wanted.

No, this might always be between them.

She thought of the ball last night and frowned. “Why did you make such a scene last night? Even you must know that three dances isn’t acceptable.”

His lips flattened into a tight line. “Yes, I am aware of that rule. However, if you insist on making a spectacle of us, then I will do what is necessary.”

“What?” she said, almost shrieking. “I did no such thing.”

“You certainly did. What were you thinking dancing with an old suitor when we are supposed to be coming out as a newly engaged couple, happily in love? You should have been gazing at me most of the night, paying little attention to other men.”

She gritted her teeth. “Well if you haven’t noticed, we aren’t a couple that is happily in love. I care very much for Lord Bromley, and he for me. I intend to remain friends with him long after we are married.”

His body seemed to turn to stone. “No wife of mine will run behind my back, creating scandals and having affairs with other men. I will not tolerate such a thing.”

Her mouth hung open, unable to produce sound. He thought she intended to have an affair with Lord Bromley?

He was quiet for a moment. “You need to let him go. We may not be married yet, but you belong with me.”

Looking up at him, her eyes rounded. “I’m not holding on. I know any future I may have had with him is long gone.”

“Do you? It didn’t seem so last night when you were in his arms,” he said, something dark coloring his voice.

“That’s not true. He is my friend and he will be remaining as such regardless of our marriage.”

His head inclined. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s so. I have no intention of being involved in an affair with him, or with anyone else for that matter. I will take my marriage vows seriously.”

He considered her for a moment, finally nodding. “I believe you.”

She shook her head, not sure she had heard him correctly. “You do? Why?”

“Why not? As I said before, I will trust you until you give me reason not to.”

It was said so simply, like it was the easiest thing to do. Why couldn’t she feel the same way? Why couldn’t she give him the trust he so freely offered her?

He finished the rest of his tea before placing his cup back down. “Is there anything else you would like to discuss?” He pulled out his watch to check the time. “I have to leave for a meeting, but I could come back later this evening.”

She shook her head. “No. There isn’t anything left to talk about.” She still had many questions about his character, but she knew she would only find those answers by watching him, seeing his reactions. She wasn’t certain she would believe anything that he told her.

With a nod, he stood, bending low at his waist in a deep bow. “I’ll see you soon.”

She watched him walk out the door, more confused about his character than before.

A letter arrived a few hours later, addressed to Lady Sera.

Retiring to her sitting room, Sera opened the note and was a bit surprised to see an invitation from Lord Devericks.

Dear Sera,

I hope that we are at a point where we can drop our titles and call each other by our given names. I prefer you call me Quinton instead of Devericks or Surrant, but I’ll leave that up to you. I am writing to see if you would accompany me to the opera tomorrow night. I can’t guarantee that it will be any good, but I can guarantee you a good time. I have extended the invitation to Lady Aubrey and your father as well. I thought we could go as a group.

Quinton

Quinton. His name rang in her mind. “Quinton,” she said aloud, trying his name on her lips. It seemed so intimate, using his given name.

No one outside of her family and closest friends called her Sera. The thought of him using her name gave her shivers, but in a good way. It seemed friendly, almost as if they truly cared for one another.

But that wasn’t the case. This was a forced union.

She liked him though. He had a soothing personality, and he didn’t seem to have an uncontrollable temper. She had learned that from their conversation earlier.

Seeming a bit jealous at the thought of her and Lord Bromley together, he still hadn’t yelled or made threats.

She appreciated that. She liked knowing that she could speak her mind and that he wouldn’t reprimand her for doing so. It gave her a feeling of freedom to be able to speak her mind to him, even if it was only in private.

He wanted to escort her to the opera tomorrow night? It was thoughtful of him to include Aubrey and her father.

Picking up the letter, she went in search of her father to extend the invitation.

Finding him in his study, she entered after knocking. “I am sorry to disrupt you, but I have just received a letter from Lord Devericks. He wishes to escort me to the opera tomorrow and has included you and Lady Aubrey in the invitation as well.”

Her father let out a short laugh. “It was thoughtful of him indeed, but when was the last time you saw me at the opera?”

A smile cracked her face. “Never, but I still wanted to pass the invitation along.”

“It is much appreciated, but I will not be going with you. Whom will you have as your chaperone? Lady Aubrey’s mother perhaps?”

Sera shook her head. “Both of her parents have returned to the country for two weeks. She is staying with her aunt for the next few weeks and I thought she could accompany us. I seem to recall her liking opera.”

Taking her father’s nod as an agreement, she left him alone to his work. She had a letter to write to Quinton.

The time seemed to fly by from when she received the letter to when she needed to get ready.

“Lydia, what do you think? The rose or the teal for this evening?” Sera asked, holding up both dresses in front of her.

“The teal, miss. It compliments your eyes. I could also fetch a matching ribbon and weave it in your hair with pink rosebuds,” her maid offered.

A smile spread on Sera’s lips. “Perfect! What would I do without you?”

Lydia smiled at her mistress’ praise. “I’ll go fetch those things.”

Sera stepped into the smooth, cool material, raising it up her arms. While she couldn’t secure all the buttons up her back, she made quick work of what she could.

She was a bit pale from the strain of the last few days, but the teal only made her skin look creamy. The white tea lace around the neckline and sleeves made the dress look more dreamy, more romantic. The rosebuds would help with that image.

She heard Lydia enter the room again. “Would you mind buttoning me up, Lydia? I can’t reach the top few buttons.”

Rich, feminine laughter flowed into the room. “While I may not be your lady’s maid, I’m more than happy to help you.”

“Aubrey! Please tell me you’re early and that I’m not late. Lydia still needs to dress my hair.”

“Don’t worry. I got ready a bit early so that we could spend time together before Lord Devericks arrives.”

“Where’s your aunt?”

“In the library reading. Although, I’m sure she’s poking around your father’s beverages. She has an affinity for brandy and seems to drink it at all hours of the day,” Aubrey said, securing the last few buttons on Sera’s dress with a laugh.

Sera chuckled at that. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had snuck a drink or two from her father’s stash.

“Are you nervous about tonight?”

Sera shook her head. “Not really.” Pausing, she considered telling Aubrey about her confrontation with Quinton, but decided against it. There really wasn’t a point.

“Do you still think he was the one that started the rumor?” Aubrey pushed.

“I’m not certain. I don’t know what to think. He doesn’t seem like he would do something so underhanded, but I don’t really know him. And he had the most to gain. If it was not him, I’m not sure who else it would be,” she answered honestly.

Aubrey’s eyebrows narrowed, concentrating on the problem. “There has to be someone else. I don’t want to believe that Lord Devericks is capable of something so despicable.”

“Well, if you come up with an alternative, please share. I would like to be able to think my future husband a good man.”

“I think he is, Sera.”

Sera nodded. “Well, hopefully we will find out soon, and not have to wonder the rest of our lives.”

Lydia came in, bringing the roses and ribbon to Sera for inspection before arranging her golden curls on top of her head. Twenty minutes later she was dressed, ready to see Quinton.

“Lord Devericks’ carriage just arrived,” Aubrey said, still looking out the window.

Tugging on her left glove, Sera smiled. “Perfect timing. Let’s go meet him downstairs.”

Nodding, Aubrey smoothing the wrinkles in her lavender silk dress. Her dark gold hair had been plaited, secured by tiny pearl pins that seemed to glow in the candlelight.

A knock sounded at the front door as they entered the main parlor. Quinton’s deep voice filtered into the room as he announced himself to the butler.

Butterflies began to dance in her stomach. Their last meeting hadn’t been the most friendly, and she wasn’t certain how he would behave after their confrontation. Things had ended friendly, but she didn’t know if he would hold her opinions against her, be offended that she couldn’t trust him completely.

Quinton walked into the room in evening attire, causing her heart to thud loudly. He looked every inch an earl in his inky evening coat and snowy white neckcloth. The smell of his heavily starched cravat mixed with his spicy soap caused her to take a deep breath of the masculine scent once it reached her.

It wasn’t anything different from what she had smelled from her father her whole life, but with Quinton’s unique scent mingled in the mix it was a powerful combination.

“Good evening to you both,” Quinton bowed slightly in greeting.

Sera and Aubrey both curtsied in return, smiling.

“Thank you for including me in your invitation, my lord,” Aubrey said.

Quinton smiled at her. “The pleasure is all mine. I am happy that you and your aunt will be accompanying us. I must say, I am surprised you are both so prompt. It has been my belief that all ladies are to keep gentlemen waiting at least fifteen minutes.”

Sera smiled while Aubrey chuckled. “I see no reason why we should keep you waiting. It is a game most women play to make the men feel like they need to work for the lady’s attention,” Sera said. “Since we are already engaged, I felt there was little reason for the impoliteness.”

He grinned. “I appreciate it. Shall we collect Lady Aubrey’s aunt and be on our way then?”

“Yes, I will go fetch her,” Aubrey offered, leaving the room to retrieve her aunt.

It was silent for a moment as the two looked at each other. Tension seemed to radiate between them. Was he feeling awkward from their previous conversation?

“You look very well this evening,” he said, a glint of appreciation in his eye as he took in her attire.

His compliment threw her off a bit. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

“So, I shall not embarrass you then?” he asked, teasing her.

Another smile crept to her lips. “Not at all. In fact, I fear many ladies will have a hard time looking away from you.” And it was true. She herself was having a hard time pulling her eyes away from him. His black hair had been combed back loosely, leaving a slight wave. His green eyes twinkled against his white shirt, looking like the clearest emeralds she had ever seen. His pants were tight, tucked into shiny black boots that reflected the candlelight.

“A compliment?” he asked in mock surprise. “And here I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

“Of course not. If that were the case, we would not be getting married.”

“True.” His voice had dimmed as Aubrey’s and her aunt’s steps filled the hallway. “Looks like it’s time to go. Shall we?” He offered his arm.

Sera nodded, gearing up for the next show they would be putting on for society. She wondered how long she would need to pretend to be in love with him before she could relax. She slid her arm through his before he led her out to meet the other two women.

It wasn’t the first time they had touched, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But there was something that happened when she touched him. Her skin seemed to heat up, her temperature rose. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just happened.

“Is everything all right?” he whispered.

She shivered as his breath caressed her ear. “Yes. Just thinking.”

“Anything you would like to share?”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him what she had been thinking. He would think her a silly female, and she didn’t want to be thought of as silly. How he made her feel, the effect he seemed to have on her when they touched, would fade soon. It had to be a side effect of their engagement. He was going to be her husband. Of course he would affect her.

It wouldn’t last though. It couldn’t. They weren’t in love and everything else faded in time.

The carriage ride to the opera house was swift all things considered. The roads were surprisingly clear for this time of night, allowing them to make it there in good time.

As their carriage rolled to a stop, they noticed a crowd gathered in the theatre’s entrance. Everyone must have experienced the same lack of traffic, because while they were early, they had still arrived after everyone else.

“Are we ready?” he asked the three women in the carriage.

Sera and Aubrey both nodded as they looked to their chaperone, then began laughing. Lady Trumbridge had fallen asleep during the ride, her mouth lolling open.

“You’d best wake her,” Quinton said, trying to hide his grin. “It wouldn’t do to have your chaperone sleeping.”

They all chuckled while Aubrey poked her aunt to wake her.

“What? Are we there?” Lady Trumbridge asked, looking between the other three passengers. “I wasn’t asleep. I was just resting my eyes.”

“Of course, Aunt.” Aubrey smiled. “Yes, we’ve arrived.”

“Excellent.” The older woman paused, looking at Quinton. “Well are we going to sit here all evening or are we going to go see the opera?”

“My apologies, my lady.” He dipped his head in a bow, effectively hiding his grin from Lady Trumbridge but not from Sera or Aubrey. “Let us be off.”

CHAPTER 5

Quinton exited the carriage first, extending his hand to help each lady out of the carriage. Offering his arm to Sera again, he smiled when she hesitated taking it.

Could she possibly feel the same connection between them that he did? He couldn’t describe it, but it was a stronger bond than he had ever felt with anyone else. She may not like him, may not trust him, but she couldn’t deny the connection between them.

He escorted them to their box, a private balcony off stage right that gave them a perfect view of the stage as well as the rest of the theatre. In turn, it would also give everyone a good view of them.

Quinton knew they were still on display, and that they had to prove that they were in love to completely stamp out any further gossip. He didn’t care. He wanted to cement it in everyone’s minds that Lady Sera was his.

He may not have wanted to take a bride based on her dowry, but he couldn’t be upset by the turn of events. Sera was more than he could have ever hoped for.

Ushers snuffed out some of the lamps, signaling the audience to take their seats. At once, the sound in the auditorium quieted, the spectators lowering into the cushioned chairs.

Quinton looked over the audience, seeing precious gems twinkle in the dim light. The mingling of perfume was overwhelming, but that was a usual occurrence at the theatre.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Aubrey lean toward Sera and whisper, “There’s Lord Bromley on the other side. He seems to be looking at you.”

With a nod, Sera smiled across the way at the duke before turning her attention to the stage. It was the polite thing to do, Quinton knew, but the surge of jealousy he felt had him taking her hand, giving it a light squeeze.

His breath caught as she looked to him, a sweet smile a woman in love would give her fiancé rested upon her lips. He knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. But that fact didn’t detract from its potency.

Leaning toward her, he whispered in her ear, knowing others in the audience watched them with rapt interest. “Tonight they will be performing The Lady Spade. I must say I hope it’s better than their last opera, The Viscount Laurimore. My ears are still ringing from their performance,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Surprise crossed her features, followed by a furious blush, then laughter. “They can’t be that bad,” she said, fighting through her giggles.

“Just wait. You will understand after a few moments.”

“I dare say I hope you’re wrong. I couldn’t bear for my ears to ring for a month after this.”

He shrugged playfully, enjoying the banter between them. Had he known she possessed a sense of humor? He couldn’t recall a time where he would have been able to explore it, to figure out what would provoke her lighthearted laughter.

The stress of their situation would grate on anyone’s nerves, effectively drowning out any playfulness. He didn’t know why, but knowing she could have fun, laugh at a small joke, caused him to expel a deep breath. Had he thought her boring?

No. Never boring. Just, not fun.

He was happy to be wrong. Her sense of humor would only make their marriage better and their relationship more agreeable.

“They should begin any moment,” he said, taking out his opera glasses. Looking down at her empty hands, his eyebrow raised. “Did you forget your glasses?”

“Hmm?” she asked, as she watched a juggler on the stage. Finally looking down at his glasses, she realized what he had asked. “Oh, no. I don’t own any. I fear I don’t come to the opera often enough and never saw the need to purchase a pair.”

“I come to the opera far too often,” he said dryly as he handed her his pair. “Here, use mine tonight.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t.”

“I want you to. Perhaps you don’t come as often because you cannot see the actors properly. I assure you, these glasses change the entire performance.”

She held on to them and chuckled. “I appreciate your offer, but if you must know, my father despises opera. That is the reason why we seldom come.”

He looked at her with mock surprise. “You mean your father dislikes men running around the stage in tights, singing about lost love, and all together making fools of themselves?”

Her laughter fluttered over his skin like a caress. He could never get bored with the sound. “You have a point.”

The lights were completely snuffed out at that moment, the curtain rising to show a woman in red, her generous bosom frothing out the top of her bodice.

“She is playing a courtesan who has fallen in love with a lord. I assume she will be scantily clad for most of the opera,” he told her.

Her golden brow arched over her deep blue eyes. “And you said that my father doesn’t like opera because of men in tights?”

He had to fight to suppress his laughter. “There aren’t scantily clad women in every opera, you know.”

“Really? Name three,” she challenged.

“Well…” he trailed off, racking his brain for examples. After a moment he grinned. “I can’t seem to think of any,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sure if I think on it, examples will come to me.”

“No doubt,” she answered dryly, raising the glasses to her eyes. “You weren’t kidding. These really do make a difference.” He watched her lean forward, her delicate neck bending slightly to view something on stage.

Desire hit him more quickly than he had anticipated. He wanted to take a bite of her, nibble on the sensitive spot right where her neck connected with her shoulders. Her skin looked smooth, creamy, and he could only imagine the exquisite taste of her.

“I can even see some of the beading on her gown. Remarkable. Perhaps I might have to purchase a pair after all.” Sending a smile his way, she returned her attention to the story. Leaning back, her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something foul. “You were right. They’re terrible. My ears hurt already,” she said, chuckling softly.

She was incredible. He knew he was lucky before, but being with her now really drove that point home.

He felt sorry that she wasn’t able to choose her own future, her own husband. But he was glad that he had gotten so lucky as to have her.

His desire for her was strong, but curiously, he found his desire for her friendship to be equally as potent. This was someone he could see himself going to operas with, laughing with, having a family with. The fact that she could joke with him, find humor in such a strained situation, told him much about her character.

He took her hand in his, low enough so that the balcony’s railing concealed it from their voracious audience. She didn’t react, didn’t look over at him. She acted like nothing had changed between them. But when she returned the squeeze, he knew she was aware of him.

He wondered when she would cease to surprise him. He hoped she never would.

For the first time in a long time, Quinton looked forward to his future with hope. Sera would be his wife.

***

Sera was exhausted by the time Quinton dropped her off, making sure she was secure in her home before escorting Aubrey and her aunt to their townhouse. It wasn’t especially late, but most of the household had already turned in.

She didn’t want to have to wake up Lydia, knowing the girl worked so hard during the day, but she wouldn’t be able to get out of her dress otherwise. Entering her room, she was relieved to see her maid dosing in a chair.

Quickly undressing out of the teal dress, she got ready for sleep. Five minutes later, after taking the pins out of her hair and donning a nightgown, Lydia extinguished the candles, allowing Sera to fall dreamlessly asleep, her ears still ringing from the opera.

Upon waking the next morning, she was surprised to find the sun shining brightly into her room. What time was it?

Leaning to her bedside table, her mouth dropped open at the late hour. She planned on meeting Aubrey on Bond Street in two hours to shop. She would need to make haste to meet her friend there on time.

Forty-five minutes later, after an exhausting whirlwind of clothes, ribbons, and hairpins, Sera was out the door.

“I should make it right on time.” She looked out of the carriage window at the shiny cobblestones, recently wet from a light sprinkle. It was sunny now though, not a cloud in the sky. Perfect weather for shopping. That was the great thing about London. When it rained, it could end just as suddenly as it began. Then again, it could begin raining just as quickly.

It didn’t matter. Sera was being optimistic. It wouldn’t rain again today. Not when she had several hours to shop with Aubrey.

Alighting at the dress shop of Madame Devereaux, the most fashionable modiste in London, Sera walked through the doors to meet Aubrey.

“Excellent. Right on time,” Aubrey said, greeting her with a smile. “I need your opinion. What do you think of this light orange muslin?” She held the fabric across her body. “Does the color suit me? I can’t tell.”

Cocking her head to the side, Sera looked at how the color seemed to drain away her friend’s pearly complexion. “It isn’t the best, I think. How about that mint green over there? I think that would be a better choice.”

“Ladies, it is lovely to see you this afternoon. Is there anything in particular you are looking for today?” Madam Devereaux asked, wandering into the room from behind a curtain. The gently aged lady looked exquisite in a blue creation that hugged her curves. Her chestnut hair was piled high atop her head, decorated with sapphire pins, which attested to the success of her shop.

Aubrey smiled at the woman. “Yes. We are in need of a new dress or two.”

“Oh la. You’ve come to the right place.” The modiste’s words were said in a romantic French accent. Stepping forward, she took the orange fabric away from Aubrey, shaking her head at her choice. “Lady Sera is correct. The mint would suit you much better I think.” Narrowing her eyes, she studied Aubrey’s figure. “Perhaps the burnt-gold silk as well.”

Sera smiled at the woman as she took a seat in one of the red-velvet upholstered benches. “We’d be happy to see anything you have that might be a fit for us.”

“Excellent. Would you care for some tea while you wait? I can have a maid prepare it while we gather your measurements.”

They both nodded.

Madam Devereaux walked behind a large curtain for a moment, returning with a measuring device. “Your beverages will be here shortly.” Gesturing to a step in front of a curved wall of looking glasses, the modiste said, “Lady Sera, if you please.” After Sera stepped onto the platform, she continued, “What type of dress are you looking for?”

“A morning dress and perhaps a walking dress. I could use another spencer jacket as well and some gloves.”

Madam Devereaux nodded, stepping forward to measure her bust, waist, hips, torso, and arm length.

After measuring Sera’s neck, she paused. “May I congratulate you on your upcoming wedding, Lady Sera?”

Quinton’s image flashed through her mind, causing a slight tingle in her stomach. “Thank you.”

“You are a lucky woman indeed, but I don’t need to tell you that.” The modiste winked. “If half of what they say is true about his time on the continent, you are lucky indeed.”

Sera’s heart raced a bit faster. His time on the continent? Could Madam Devereaux possibly know what he had been doing there? Trying to sound casual, Sera said, “Yes I am. There is so much being said about his travels. What in particular are you referring to?”

The modiste laughed. “I’m not speaking of any one thing.” Leaning forward she whispered so only Sera and Aubrey could hear her. “There was more than one heart-broken woman when he left Paris.”

“No doubt,” Sera said dryly.

“Was there ever any gossip about why he left England?” Aubrey asked, jumping into the conversation.

The modiste’s shoulders shrugged as she measured the length of Sera’s legs. “Not much was said about it.” She paused, looking around the shop to make sure they were alone. “But I have heard whispers.”

Sera leaned forward, willing the modiste to continue. Could she know why he left?

“It is said that Lord Devericks had a terrible fight with his father the night before he left.”

“What about?” Aubrey asked.

“I’m sure that you know the late earl had a gambling problem.” Both girls nodded. “It was how he dealt with his disappointment. The earl had tried to force his son into a marriage, but Lord Devericks wouldn’t have it. The late earl gave him an ultimatum to try to force him into the marriage, but it didn’t work. Instead, Lord Devericks left the next morning, and didn’t return until his father died.”

Sera gasped. “His father tried to force him? Why?”

The modiste shrugged again. “No one knows. The earl probably began to gamble after his son left to deal with his disappointment.”

“That’s terrible,” Sera whispered. Quinton had fled the country to avoid being forced into a marriage and now she was forced to marry him.

Perhaps that was why he was trying to be so kind to her. He had made the choice to marry her, but she hadn’t had one, and he knew how that felt.

Finished measuring, the modiste stepped back. “I’ll have some material squares brought out so that you may choose fabric for your dresses.”

Sera nodded, but remained quiet until Madam Devereaux disappeared behind the curtain again.

“Did you know?” Aubrey asked quietly.

Sera shook her head. “No. I had no clue.” She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about being forced into this marriage, about Quinton almost being forced into another one. She needed to put it out of her mind. It would be something she could pull out later and decide her feelings on. Until then, it was just too complicated.

The next two hours were spent taking more measurements and looking at fashion plates, fabric, and lace. There were enough decisions made to drown out thoughts of anything else.

After ordering three dresses, a spencer jacket, and two new pairs of gloves, the two women were exhausted.

“Want to visit the confectionary?” Aubrey asked with a smile.

Thinking about chocolate, Sera nodded in appreciation. “The perfect way to end a shopping excursion.”

They both laughed as they walked down Bond Street.

“Look, Lord Bromley is across the road. Shall we wave?” Aubrey looked to Sera to make the decision.

Sera laughed at her friend’s concern. “Of course. Just because I’m engaged now doesn’t mean I can’t speak with the man.”

Sending Lord Bromley a smile and a wave, he returned their smile with a nod of his head before crossing the street toward them.

They curtsied to his bow. “How well you both are looking this afternoon,” he commented with a smile to each woman.

“Thank you,” Sera said. “What brings you to Bond Street?”

He held up a leather bound book and grinned. “Guilty.”

Both Sera and Aubrey’s mouths dropped open before Aubrey chuckled and asked, “Is that Vivian Black’s new novel?”

Sera couldn’t help but laugh when she saw an embarrassed look cross his face. The entire time he had courted her she had had no idea that he enjoyed reading dime novels. Most men scoffed at such stories, proclaiming they were unrealistic. What else hadn’t she known about him?

“I have been meaning to buy a copy myself. Aubrey and I both enjoy Vivian Black’s novels.”

“Really? Which are your favorites?”

“Mrs. Derkly and the Haunted Forest. Most particularly the part where she thought the ghost of her former butler haunted her,” Sera said.

“And yours Lady Aubrey?”

Aubrey didn’t even hesitate before saying, “Lady Guinevere and the Mysterious Lord.”

He chuckled at Aubrey’s choice. “Both excellent books. Well, I must be off now. I’m sure you ladies have plenty of things to do.” He gave them a friendly nod before heading off.

The two women watched him walk away before Aubrey chuckled. “Did you know he enjoyed dime novels?”

Sera shook her head, trying to hold her laughter in. “I had no idea. I’m starting to wonder what other things I didn’t know about him. Shall we head toward the chocolate?”

“Yes,” Aubrey agreed whole-heartedly. They walked in silence for a moment before Aubrey looked over at Sera. “Do you regret that you aren’t marrying him?”

“Lord Bromley?” Sera thought about it for a moment. “I can’t say I do. Although, I will not lie, I was disappointed at first. I thought that I was beginning to fall in love with him, but now that I’m engaged to Quinton, I can’t say I’m too sorry our relationship ended.” And she really wasn’t. She had thought the world was ending when she found out she was ruined. The idea of marrying someone else when she thought she was close to loving another had been unbearable. The thought of not being with Lord Bromley didn’t bother her now. The only conclusion she could come to was that she was never in love with him.

“I’m a bit surprised to hear you say that.”

Sera turned to look at her. “Why?”

Aubrey shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I just assumed you were already in love with him.”

“No. Truly, I never was. I enjoyed his company and his friendship, but there was nothing more between us. I had thought there would be, but there wasn’t.”

“I see,” Aubrey said quietly.

“Is something the matter?” Sera’s brows scrunched in concern.

Aubrey shook off her worry. “No.” Sera looked at her with doubt. “Okay, maybe something. I just wonder if I’ll ever find love.” Glancing up, she looked horrified. “I am so sorry, Sera. How could I be so inconsiderate? Here I am wondering if I’ll ever find love, and you are engaged to a man you hardly know. I’m sorry.”

The pain in Aubrey’s eyes caused moisture to prick Sera’s. Taking her hand to reassure her, she said, “You need not be sorry. And you shouldn’t worry either. I’m sure you’ll find love. You are wonderful and the right man will come along. As for myself…” she trailed off. What could she really say? There wasn’t any hope. All hope of her falling in love was now gone. “I will be fine. It may not have turned out the way I wanted it to, but I am content.”

Aubrey nodded her agreement, but Sera saw the knowledge, the doubt in her eyes. “Come, let us fill up on chocolate.”

They walked through the doors of the confectionary, the sweet, rich scents wafting over them as they ordered their desired pieces.

“Shall we head back to my house for tea?” Sera offered, not wanting to let go of Aubrey’s companionship and return to an empty home.

Aubrey nodded. “Tea and chocolate. You know I won’t ever turn that offer down.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”

With their chocolate packages wrapped up tightly, they sent off Aubrey’s carriage with a note to her family.

They rode home in short time, quickly dispensing of their bonnets and gloves.

“Mrs. Buttersly, would you mind bringing us a tea service when you get a moment,” Sera asked the housekeeper.

“Right away, my lady. The cook is already boiling the water.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

With a curtsy, Mrs. Buttersly left to ready the tea tray.

They wandered down the hallway to Sera’s receiving room and flopped down into the chairs.

“I’m exhausted,” Aubrey proclaimed, puffing a piece of hair out of her face.

Sera laughed. “Me too. Remember in our first season when we could shop for hours? What’s happened to us over the last two years?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

They were still laughing when the tea tray was brought in, and discreetly placed on the table in front of them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Buttersly.”

With a smile and quick nod, she accepted Sera’s gratitude. She walked toward the door before snapping her fingers and turning back toward them. “Oh, I almost forgot. A package arrived for you while you were out, my lady. Would you like it brought here?”

“Yes. Do you know who it is from?”

“I can’t say. It did come with a note though.”

Sera nodded before the housekeeper went to fetch the package. Who would have sent her something?

“I wonder who it is from.” Aubrey reached for the teapot before her eyes lit up. “Perhaps Lord Bromley went back and purchased another copy of Vivian Black’s book for you.”

They both chuckled at that. “I doubt it. He seemed in a hurry.”

Aubrey leaned toward the tray, fixing herself a cup of tea. “Well I do hope he did. I would love to start reading it now.”

Sera grinned. “Me too.”

Mrs. Buttersly entered the room; the white paper wrapped box in her hand was topped with a red ribbon. “Here we are, my lady.” She set the package on the table before giving a curtsy.

With a nod of gratitude, Sera dismissed her.

“I think we can safely discount it being a book,” Sera said, eyeing the dimensions of the package.

“Agreed. A book couldn’t fit in there.” Aubrey paused. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Of course.” She didn’t know why she hesitated. She had received gifts before, but none since she had been engaged. Who could it be from? She reached for the glossy cream note.

“It’s from Quinton,” Sera said in surprise. “He says, ‘For many more visits to the opera.’ How interesting. What could it be?”

Aubrey leaned forward. “Well, let’s open it and see.”

Sera untied the silky ribbon. “I don’t know what it could be. I know he doesn’t have much money to spend on gifts.”

“Well, that just makes it more special doesn’t it? He knows you wouldn’t expect anything because of his lack of funds.”

Sera nodded in agreement. “True.”

Tearing the creamy outer paper, she lifted a layer of stiff paper and gasped. Gold opera glasses, with mother of pearl inlayed in a feminine design, lay on soft fabric, protecting it from scratching. “It’s beautiful,” Sera said, slightly breathless. Picking up the glasses, she could feel their weight and knew they must be costly. “It must have cost quite a bit.”

“It’s breathtaking. I wonder where he found it. I can’t imagine he just had it laying around.”

“No, I can’t either.”

Sera ran her fingers over the cool mother of pearl, watching it reflect light like fire.

“He didn’t have to do this,” Sera whispered. “It must have cost him at least half of what he has left to survive on.”

Aubrey came and sat next to her, wrapping her arm around her. “No he didn’t, but he did.” They were quiet for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts. “Do you still think he started the rumor?”

“I don’t know.” She set the present aside, but kept glancing over at the beautiful piece, wondering about the man who gave it to her. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“A greedy man wouldn’t have purchased that for a fiancée he had already secured. Perhaps you are wrong about him.”

“Perhaps.” But she wasn’t sure. She would never be sure. It was easy to do something nice after getting what you wanted. Could she ever trust him?

Sera hated that she had doubts. She hated this situation. The present was beyond beautiful, but it brought even more confusion to her circumstances.

She had learned at the opera the other night that Quinton could possibly be a friend to her. They didn’t need to be enemies. But what did these glasses mean? Was he trying to buy her affections? Trying to say sorry? She just wished she knew.

If she only knew more about him, she would know what this present meant.

“Let’s drink our tea. I’m not sure I can think about the gift right now.” That seemed to be her coping mechanism for the day, deciding not to think about it. That would only last so long. She couldn’t put off thinking of Quinton and what was happening between them forever.

Aubrey looked at her with concern, but finally nodded, taking a seat across from her again.

She didn’t want to think about Quinton yet, she couldn’t. But the glasses kept shining from inside the wrapping, catching her attention and pulling her thoughts back to Quinton.

Aubrey left soon after, and Sera contented herself with going to bed early. It was a good thing, because the next morning she was greeted with a small crisis.

CHAPTER 6

“Cook and Mrs. Buttersly have a slight fever,” Lydia said after waking her. It was still dark outside, a bright moon shined through her curtains.

Fevers were never to be taken lightly. A seemingly innocent one could signal a much greater illness. Whipping the bedclothes aside, she sat up. “How serious is it? Have you summoned the doctor?”

Lydia shook her head. “No, it isn’t too serious, but I think they should stay in bed and rest.”

“I agree. Do not allow them to leave their rooms, and make sure they have plenty of broth.”

Lydia nodded. “What shall we do about the meals, my lady?”

“There is nothing to worry about, Lydia,” Sera told her, hearing the concern in the maid’s voice. “I’m sure we can handle something. We won’t go hungry.” She climbed out of bed. “Could you fetch one of my old dresses?”

Lydia looked surprised. “Whatever for?”

“I prefer not to get any of my new dresses dirty. I can’t exactly give orders to the staff and oversee the chores if I’m worried about soiling my dress.”

Nodding, Lydia fetched the gown before helping Sera to dress.

Walking into the kitchen, they saw Cook’s helpers sitting around.

Sera cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the younger women. “As you all know, Cook is sick and must stay in bed. I hope that she will recover quickly, but I have made it clear that she must remain there today and rest.”

“Yes, my lady,” the three of them said.

“I realize that you all are not cooks, but I know that you have great skill in what you do.” The three women seemed to stand a little straighter with her praise.

“I will not pretend that I have any skill in the kitchen, but I hope that between us we will be able to feed the household.”

“Of course, my lady,” one of the women beamed. “I’m Mary. I bake bread here, but Cook has been teaching me to make eggs and how to cook and season bacon.”

“Excellent. We will have you make breakfast then and bread for the day. Can you manage that?”

“Yes, my lady,” Mary said with a curtsy, before hurrying to prepare the morning meal.

Sera looked to the second girl, who blushed at the attention. “I’m Elizabeth, my lady. I mainly make pastries and desserts.”

Sera smiled. “And they are delicious.”

The girl blushed again.

“Is there anything else you can make?”

“I can do some vegetable side dishes. I’ve never made them for the household before, but I cook for my own family and they seem to like them.”

“Excellent. Please prepare an arrangement of side dishes for dinner and dessert.” Sera turned her attention to the third woman. “Please tell me you know how to prepare meat.”

“As a matter of fact I do, my lady,” the woman smiled.

Sera sighed in relief. “Thank heavens! Please prepare the main dish for the evening meal.”

“My pleasure.”

“Ok, so all that’s left is lunch. Any ideas?” She looked at the three women.

Mary’s eyes lifted. “It wouldn’t be fancy, but we have some cold meat for sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches will suffice. We aren’t expecting any company today, so it will just be the staff, my father, and myself.” She gave one final nod. “Good work. I appreciate all the extra effort you are going to put in today. I’ll make sure my father hears about it.”

The three women smiled and curtsied before beginning to work.

“Very well done, my lady,” Lydia said after they had left the kitchen.

“Thank you.” Sera smiled. She may not know how to cook, but her mother had taught her how to run a household smoothly. “Would you mind gathering the maids together? I would like to speak with them before they begin their chores.”

“Right away.” Lydia left to round up the women.

A few minutes later the staff began to arrive on the landing.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I know you are all very busy. As you have heard, Mrs. Buttersly is ill and cannot oversee the chores today. Since I do not do this all the time, I hope to have all of your help to guide me through it.” Everyone smiled at their mistress’ thoughtfulness. “I assume you have daily chores that you do?”

“Yes, my lady,” Lydia answered for the group.

“Excellent. Are there any extra chores that need to be done today?”

“No. We washed the linens yesterday and most of the polishing will keep for a few more days.”

“Ok, then. Let’s just stick to the normal chores. If there are any problems, please come to me and I’ll see if I can find a solution. Thank you all for your patience today.”

The accidents began shortly thereafter. A small vase broke in the library while dusting, resulting in a crying maid. She knew she would not be turned out for the accident, but she was so shaken up over it, she cried for almost a half hour. A footman had jammed his finger, incurring a call for the doctor to examine him. Luckily, he proclaimed that it was only a slight sprain and put a splint on it. The footman would be able to go about his duties with little pain.

Sera plopped onto a chair in her parlor, completely exhausted from the day’s events. She had known how hard her servants worked, but it was completely different to spend a day in their shoes. They should get a raise. Every last one of them.

Looking at the clock, she groaned. It was six o’clock and she was supposed to meet Quinton at a soirée in a couple hours.

A throb started in her head, building with momentum until she clenched her eyes, trying to rub the pain away.

Lydia entered the parlor, her shoes clicking softly on the carpeted floors. “Cook’s and Mrs. Buttersly’s fevers have gone down. Come morning, they should be fit to return to their duties.”

“Thank heavens.” Sera opened her eyes slightly.

Lydia’s brows knotted. “Are you feeling well, my lady? You aren’t coming down with a fever yourself are you?” The concern was evident in her voice.

Sera shook her head. “No. It is only a headache, but I fear I will have to cancel my appointment this evening. Would you mind fetching me a quill and paper? I will need to send my regrets.”

“Of course.”

After securing the items, Sera wrote a quick missive to Quinton, telling him she wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.

“Please have that sent out immediately.”

Lydia took the note, curtsying before she hurried out of the room to have it delivered.

Mustering up her strength, she climbed the stairs to her room and took off the dusty dress she was wearing. The clean nightgown felt like heaven on her skin, and when she slid between the bedclothes, she closed her eyes with a sigh.

She would feel better after she had rested.

***

Quinton was finishing getting dressed for the evening when the note arrived.

“A letter for you, my lord,” his butler said, holding it out for him.

“Thank you. I take it that it just arrived.”

“Yes. It was delivered by one of the Duke of Dorchester’s footmen.”

Sera.

Quinton nodded his thanks before the butler left. Allowing his valet to finish tying his cravat, he waited to read her letter until he had left. Not that it mattered. He assumed that a letter arriving at this time meant that she wouldn’t be able to make it.

Opening the letter, his guess was confirmed.

Quinton,

I’m sorry to cancel at so late an hour, but I will not be able to make it tonight. A few members of my staff were suffering from a fever today, and I fear that I don’t feel well myself. Have a pleasant evening. I will see you soon.

Sincerely,

Sera

Quinton’s heart froze. She was ill? If some of her staff had gotten a fever it was more than possible that she had caught the same sickness. Was it serious? Had a doctor been summoned?

He re-read the letter two more times, hoping for a bit more information. None of his questions were answered.

“Brums!”

Seeming a bit startled, his butler came into the room. “Yes, my lord?”

“Have the carriage readied immediately.” Brums turned quickly to do his master’s bidding.

He had to see her, had to know how serious it was. He couldn’t say why. He just needed to know.

Quickly climbing into the carriage, he told his driver to make haste to Sera’s house.

She was fine. She had to be. He saw her not even two days ago, and she was in perfect health.

Why couldn’t she have written a few more details about her situation? Did she think he wouldn’t care? Of course he did. She was his fiancée. He was obligated to care about her.

Wasn’t he?

It wasn’t obligation he felt for her though. He didn’t know what it was. But he was worried, growing more terrified by the moment that she might be seriously ill.

Why were they driving so slowly? He cursed every pedestrian that had them halting, every carriage that blocked their path.

Why was it taking so bloody long?

He should have Dr. Whittier summoned immediately once he got there. If a doctor had already seen her, a second opinion never hurt. Plus he trusted Whittier.

Once the carriage stopped in front of her house, he vaulted out the door and up the stairs to the large, wooden door.

Knocking on the thick oak, he combed a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart. It couldn’t be that bad. The servants didn’t seem to be in a frenzy to find doctors and nurses. He had overreacted. Everything was fine.

Her butler answered the door, a surprised look crossing his face.

“I would like to see Lady Sera.”

The butler shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lord, but did you not receive her note? She will not be attending this evening.”

“Yes, I received her note. That is why I’m here.”

“I’m sorry but she is not receiving visitors.”

Ice chilled over his skin as fear clawed back into his soul. Was she so ill she couldn’t see anyone? Not even him? “Will you ask her if she will see me for only a moment?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. She has retired for the evening and has asked not to be disturbed.”

“I see.” She had taken to her bed. It must be serious indeed. He could see from the steely gaze of the butler that he wouldn’t be getting through the door. He would still see her though. No matter what he had to do, he would see her.

“Please tell her that I called,” Quinton said, backing away from the entrance.

The butler’s muscles seemed to relax as he nodded before closing the door. Slowly walking down the steps, Quinton made sure no one was looking before heading toward the side of the building. He was pretty sure Sera’s room was located on the second story, the one with a balcony. The one room with an open window.

Making sure he still went unnoticed, he latched onto the vines below her balcony, slowly climbing up to her window.

He knew it was improper, but he had to see her. What was the worst that could happen? A scandal? She would be ruined? Been there, done that. Okay, well not really. But in people’s minds it had already happened.

He would see her now. He needed to.

Looking through the window, he saw the soft, feminine room, illuminated by rosy light from the fireplace.

Glancing at the bed, he saw a lump under the covers, a slim white hand peeking out from underneath.

Sliding through the window, he crept toward the ivory, canopied bed, careful not to walk too loudly on her wooden floor.

“Sera?” he whispered, standing above the lump. It didn’t move. “Sera?” he repeated a bit louder. Still nothing.

Dread filled him. Had she slipped into a coma? Was her fever raging too high? Where were her servants? Where were the people that were supposed to take care of her?

Anger and fear consumed him as he gripped the hem of her covers, afraid of how sick she might be. Slowly pulling them down, he saw Sera’s golden curls loosely spilled over her pillow as she lay on her stomach.

Unable to stand it any longer, he placed his hand against her forehead and sighed with relief at the touch of her cool skin. She didn’t have a fever.

That thought sent him to his knees in gratitude as he trembled. He had thought she was gravely ill. The thought of her possibly dying had shaken him to his core.

Why? Why did he care so much? Circumstances had brought them together. After the opera he realized that Sera was a person he could be friends with, a companion.

His desire for her was real, but desire didn’t make him feel ill at the thought of her sick or hurt.

He closed his eyes as the realization hit him full force.

He loved her.

Opening his eyes, he could no longer deny his feelings for her. He loved her, he thought again.

The thought paralyzed him. He loved her, and it was only by chance that he was marrying her. If that rumor hadn’t been started, she would most likely be marrying the duke.

And he would be marrying an heiress he didn’t love.

He didn’t know who started the rumor, but gratitude welled in his chest.

She may not love him, may not trust him, but he would treat her well and make her happy. She would be his.

He picked up a strand of her hair, running the silky threads through his fingers before lifting it to smell her rosy essence. She seemed so peaceful, so delicate.

Sensing another person in her room, Sera woke with a start, scrambling off the bed toward the fireplace. Grabbing the poker, she held it out like a sword.

“Don’t come any closer,” she said, trying desperately to see through the mass of hair that hung in front of her eyes.

He chuckled, holding up his hands. “I’m unarmed.”

She paused, lowering the weapon to the floor before flipping her hair back. “Quinton?” she asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your letter. I was worried and came to check on you.” He began to move toward her, taking in her mussed appearance like a man thirsty for water. She looked more beautiful like this, completely devoid of society’s trappings. The thick nightgown was modest, but its baggy shape led him to think about all it concealed.

His gaze raced over her body, finally settling on her eyes. “I’m glad to see you don’t suffer from a fever.”

“A fever?” She looked confused. “Why would you think that?”

“In your letter you said your household was suffering from a fever and that you didn’t feel well. I just assumed…” he trailed off as he shrugged. What more could he say? It wouldn’t be wise to tell her he had been out of his mind worrying about her. That he had imagined her on her deathbed.

She rubbed her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear. I helped oversee the staff today, and by the end of it, I had a headache. I just needed to rest to clear it.”

“I can see it’s still there.”

She nodded. “Yes, but it isn’t nearly as bad as it was earlier.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She fidgeted with her hands. “I wanted to tell you how much I love your gift. I’m sorry I didn’t write a note, but I wanted to tell you in person. It’s gorgeous.”

A smile spread to his lips. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m sure the glasses will get plenty of use.”

“Shall we attend many operas?”

“Yes. I’ve always gone before and I see no reason why we couldn’t enjoy them together. Do you not agree?” he added, suddenly unsure if she had enjoyed the experience as much as he had.

“Of course. It was quite entertaining,” she said with a sly smile.

He laughed out right. “I promise you that they aren’t all that terrible. Some are actually quite good.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that.” She paused, looking down at the floor before raising her gaze to his again. “You know you didn’t have to do it. I know they must have been very costly.”

His heart clenched. He could see that she meant it and that she clearly understood what he had sacrificed to buy them. They had been very dear, but they had been worth it.

The money didn’t really matter to him anymore.

Surprise surged through him at the truth of his feelings. He had started out only caring about the money, but not any longer. He was marrying her for her. She was the true prize. Not her dowry. How could he help her see that? How could he earn her trust so that she would believe him?

They paused for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. What was she thinking? “I climbed up through your window,” he finally said, abruptly ending their silence.

Her mouth fell open. “You did what?”

“I climbed up the ivy and through your window. You should really be more careful and keep it closed. Or have the ivy cut. It could be dangerous.”

“No doubt with men climbing into my room during the night,” she said dryly.

He grinned. “Your butler wouldn’t let me see you, and I wanted to know how ill you were.”

She laughed and placed a friendly kiss on his cheek. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I am quite well. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix anyway.”

Her kiss scorched his cheek. The print that it left on his skin seemed to brand his soul. He had been kissed by some of the most beautiful women in Europe, but nothing compared to the small kiss his fiancée had just given him.

He wanted more. He wanted her.

Seeing his look, she quieted. “Forgive me for kissing you. I must not be thinking straight.”

He shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive.”

A blush crested her cheeks. “You should probably leave. It wouldn’t be good if you were discovered in my room.”

“You’re right,” he conceded, but couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.

Reaching down, he found her hand, slowly bringing it to his lips. He needed something, something more of her.

Brushing his lips across the back of her hand, he relished the silky smoothness of her skin, the delicate perfume that permeated his senses. No woman had ever smelled so perfect, so desirable.

He felt her slight tremor, the quick intake of her breath. He smiled. She was just as affected by him as he was by her.

Straightening, he saw the clouded look in her eyes, a reflection of the desire he felt.

“Sleep well, Sera.” He said her name like a caress.

Turning, he slipped out the window and down the vines to his waiting carriage.

His heart ached as he thought of his love for her. It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do, leaving her just then. He wanted to make love to her, make her his, but he would wait until the moment was right. Until they were married. He respected Sera too much to not follow tradition in this instance. Their courtship, or lack thereof, had gone directly against what was proper. Sera deserved everything that an engagement should entail.

Why shouldn’t he court her? He hadn’t won her fairly. Although he would have her dowry, she had been forced to marry him because of the scandal.

And that wasn’t good enough anymore.

He wanted her love. He wanted her desire. He wanted her to want to be with him.

And he wanted to win her on his own, not because of a rumor.

Smiling, he thought of all the ways to court Sera. He hoped she wouldn’t be able to resist falling in love with him for long. And for the first time in a long time, there was a spring in his step.

CHAPTER 7

Groggy, Sera woke up to the sun shining bright through her window. What had happened to her always waking up with the sunrise? Since her engagement, she seemed to have finally adjusted to the hours of the ton, going to bed close to sunrise and waking up at midday.

Rising out of bed with disgust, she rang for Lydia.

“Oh, good, you’re awake, my lady,” Lydia said as she hurried through the doors. “There’s something you should see.”

Panic rose. “Is it Cook or Mrs. Buttersly?”

“What?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Oh, no, my lady. No. I’m sorry to cause you a fright. They are both well and back to their duties.”

“Good.” Sera breathed a sigh of relief. “Then what is all this about?”

“I think you should come see for yourself. Follow me to your sitting room.”

Donning her wrapper, Sera followed Lydia with curiosity. What could be in her sitting room that she needed to see so urgently?
Walking into her parlor, she got her answer. The smell of hundreds of roses wafted toward her. The room came alive in reds, yellows, oranges, and pinks. It seemed as if every bowl or vase they owned had been used to house the fragrant buds.

“What… what is all this?” Sera couldn’t stop herself from looking around the room, her mouth gaping open.

“They’re for you. From Lord Devericks.”

Her mouth dropped open. “All of them?”

“Yes, my lady.” Lydia smiled. “They began to arrive this morning from shops all over the city and they haven’t stopped coming since.”

“He must have cleaned out the city,” Sera said in disbelief.

Lydia nodded, looking around the room. “It looks that way.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small note. “This came with the first batch.”

Leaving Sera to her privacy, Lydia left the room.

Sinking into a chair, Sera couldn’t stop looking at the flowers. It was too much. No one had ever showered her with such opulence. The cost was staggering. First the opera glasses, now flowers. He must have nothing left.

Her heart fluttered. He had given everything he had to her. It wasn’t because he had to, or that he felt obligated, he just had. They were already engaged. She hadn’t expected anything from him. The arrangements for their wedding had been made.

But he still showered her with gifts. Almost as if he cared. Almost as if it were a love match.

Could it be true? Was it possible that Quinton had developed feelings for her?

Her heart sped up with the possibility. Standing in this room, surrounded by hundreds of flowers, she could believe it.

Or was he just trying to make up for the situation? Did he feel sorry that she had been forced into the marriage?

Shaking her head, she forced that thought out of her mind. She cared for him. More than she had expected to, and she knew he felt the same.

He had been worried about her last night, and hadn’t been able to rest until he had seen her for himself. That didn’t seem like a man that didn’t care.

Oh, yes. He cared. But how much? Was it just friendship? Lust? Or was it more?

Reaching out, she plucked a red rose from a tall glass vase. Brushing the petals across her cheek, the smooth soft touch sent shivers down her spine. That was how his kiss had felt. Soft and pliant across her skin, but that’s where the similarities ended. His lips were strong, overwhelming. Fire had scorched up her arm. She hadn’t known a kiss could feel that way.

Her hand had been kissed by many gentlemen, but never like that. No, it had never felt quite like that. Lust was definitely involved.

She wanted to see him again, wanted to know more about him. There had to be a way to know for certain that he hadn’t started the rumor, to find hard proof so that she could trust him.

But did she need proof before giving him her trust?

The thought slammed into her. Wasn’t that the point of trust? Believing someone without proof? She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe him at his word.

“Lydia?” Sera called out, hoping her maid lingered nearby.

“Yes, my lady?” she said, coming into the room.

Handing Lydia the red rose, she asked, “Would you mind gathering several more of these and bringing them into my room? I want to wear them in my hair this evening.”

“Oh, my lady, that would be beautiful. I’ve laid out your cream gown for this evening, and these will set off the lacework on the dress beautifully.”

Sera smiled. She couldn’t wait to see Quinton tonight.

***

She had been right to pair the red roses with the cream lace gown. The splash of color in her hair made her lips look redder, her cheeks more pink. She looked young, fresh, almost as if this were her debut into society. But it wasn’t.

Her entrance into the ball that evening was much like she had experienced before the scandal. People stared at her, but not because they wanted a snippet of gossip. Her dance card filled up quickly, only a few empty spots remained for important gentleman that may ask her later that evening.

It was almost as if the scandal had never happened; yet it had. Gentlemen seemed to fawn over her, complimenting her hair and eyes. While she once enjoyed the attention, she felt it rather tedious now. What had changed? Certainly not herself. But then again, maybe she had. She wasn’t looking for a future husband; she already had one. These men knew she was already taken, but they still danced attendance on her.

Women of the aristocracy often took lovers after an heir was produced, but she would never betray her family in that way. No matter how much attention other men gave her, she would be faithful to Quinton.

Where was Aubrey? Shouldn’t she have arrived by now, she thought, her attention pulled away from her admirers.

Scanning the crowded dance floor, she didn’t see her friend amongst the other dancers. In fact, now that she thought of it, she didn’t see Quinton either. Where were they?

“Good evening, Lady Sera.”

Hearing Lord Bromley’s voice, Sera smiled, giving him a deep curtsy. “Good evening, my lord. I hope you are having an enjoyable time thus far.”

“I am, more so now that you have arrived. You look enchanting this evening.” He grinned at her.

“Thank you.”

“I had hoped to claim you for the next dance if you are not otherwise engaged.”

Sera couldn’t help but smile. It was Lord Bromley’s gentlemanly behavior that had always attracted her. “I would like that. As it happens, I have not promised the next dance to anyone.”

“Excellent.”

Leading her onto the floor, the music began. She moved easily with Lord Bromley, as they had danced many times before. It was interesting to realize she was never in love with him. She had thought the comfortable feeling she had had while in his arms meant that she was beginning to fall in love, but now she knew that it was just a deep friendship she had felt. She thought it odd how she could have been so off on her feelings.

Unable to hold back her affection for him, she smiled. “I hope you know how much I value your friendship.”

He looked down, returning her smile with a quirk of his lips. “I do. As much as I value yours. I want you to know…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I want you to know that you can always come to me. I will always help you in any way I can.”

The gratitude that she felt from his words swelled in her chest. She would hate to ever lose his friendship. “Thank you.”

Gliding through a few intricate steps, they were quiet, both lost in thoughts of what-if.

The music ended on a sweet note, seeming to echo her relationship with Lord Bromley. She had known that after the scandal and her engagement that nothing could come between the two of them, but she hadn’t realized she still harbored the dream.

It was time to let it go. And she did.

He brought her back to where she had been earlier and gave her a deep bow. The smile she gave him was one of regret, but there was no going back to how she had been before Quinton. After an equally deep curtsy from her, he left.

It was interesting that she could feel so differently after one dance. She felt more free, more able to move forward with her life, unhampered by old dreams.

“You really need to move on.”

Hearing Victoria’s voice, Sera closed her eyes. What did she want now?

Turning around to face her arch-nemesis, Sera couldn’t even muster up a polite smile. “What are you talking about, Victoria?”

“Come now, Sera. There is no need to pretend.”

Sera gritted her teeth. “Speak plainly. I’m in no mood to fence words with you right now.”

“You must know by now.”

“Know what?”

Victoria studied Sera’s face before a smug smile curved her lips. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. You must know that Lord Devericks didn’t start the rumor.” She paused dramatically. “I did.”

Shock coursed through Sera’s veins. No, it wasn’t possible. Victoria started the rumor? Victoria caused the scandal and her engagement? “Why?” Sera asked hoarsely.

One of Victoria’s dainty shoulders shrugged, her deep rose gown swishing with the movement. “Isn’t it obvious? I want Lord Bromley. I saw his intentions toward you were getting serious, and I had to get you out of the way so that he would focus on me.”

Sera’s mouth dropped open. “You did all this in the hopes that Lord Bromley’s attention would turn toward you?” Sera couldn’t believe the woman’s self-centeredness. She had taken away Sera’s free will, her choice of husband, all because of jealousy.

“Yes.” A pout slowly creased her lips. “It isn’t working out exactly how I had planned, but I hope that once you are wed he will move on and turn his attentions to me.”

“What makes you think you are his next choice?”

Laughter flowed melodically through her lips. “Come now, Sera. Besides you, I am the most beautiful debutant and possess one of the largest dowries. If not me, then whom?”

“Perhaps someone less selfish?”

“Don’t be so naïve, it doesn’t flatter you at all.” She looked up before continuing. “Ah, I see Aubrey has arrived. Well, I shall leave you two to be wallflowers. Please relay my best wishes to her.”

Fuming with anger, Sera couldn’t even deign Victoria with a response. She had never felt so moved to violence in her life.

Her dress fisted in her hand. Victoria really deserved a slap. She had changed Sera’s life with one vicious lie. Forced her into a marriage she hadn’t wanted. To a man she didn’t know.

Good Lord, she had forced Quinton as well. The color leeched from her cheeks. This whole time, Quinton had been innocent. He hadn’t started the rumor after all. He had offered for her, weathered a scandal, even though none of it was true.

He needed to marry a wealthy bride, but he could have chosen anyone. He hadn’t needed his choice taken from him.

Stepping up to marry her, he had saved her reputation. The gratitude that flowed through her almost overwhelmed her. But there was something else. Something even more potent that was slowly making its way through her body, wrapping itself around her heart.

Love.

She loved Quinton. For a second time, the breath was knocked from her. After everything that had happened, she had finally found love.

Everything about Quinton filled her soul, causing it to burn with joy. He was just the man she had been looking for: kind, attentive, loyal. She had been a fool. She had wanted to trust him, but had let Victoria’s lie come between them.

What if Victoria had never confessed? The secret would have been between them for the rest of their lives. Would she have ever realized her love for him if that had happened?

While Victoria was a viper who went to any lengths to get what she wanted, a part of Sera had to be grateful to her. Without her, she wouldn’t be with Quinton.

“Sera? Is everything all right?” Aubrey’s voice filled with concern. “You’ve gone deathly pale. Here, sit down. Shall I fetch your father?”

Sera shook her head, still unable to speak.

“Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade, perhaps?”

“Yes,” Sera finally croaked out.

Turning on her heel, Aubrey quickly made her way to the refreshment table. Sera was grateful for the short reprieve. She needed a few more moments to gather herself together.

It was fortunate that Sera had been so close to some potted plants when Victoria had confronted her. It gave her the opportunity to fall apart without gathering any attention. With a few deep breaths, Sera stepped out from the potted palm, a smile tight on her face.

Gasping, Sera stared dumbfounded at the fire shining from the crystals in the chandelier. Was it possible for the room to look so different? Everything was brighter as if thousands of candles had been added to the room. The thick paneled walls shined with a high gloss, enveloping the room with a tart, lemon scent. The music seemed louder, more fluid as the dancers floated across the floor.

Were these the effects of love?

She had heard it described like this, that it heightened the senses, but she had thought it rubbish. It was all true.

“Here, sip this,” Aubrey said, shoving the drink into her friend’s pale hands. Sera took a small drink while Aubrey inspected her face. “There, a little of your color is returning. Would you like to tell me what happened between you and Victoria that caused you to look like a ghost?” Aubrey demanded more than asked.

With a final sip of the drink, Sera began to feel like herself again. “She confessed that she was the one who started the rumor.”

“What!” Aubrey shrieked before lowering her voice. “You mean she’s the one that ruined you? There wasn’t even an ounce of truth to it. Why would she have done something so heartless?”

Sera raised her brow. “This is Victoria we’re talking about.”

Aubrey didn’t laugh.

“Okay. Okay.” Sera chuckled, holding up her hands for peace. She was grateful for her friend’s defense. “She wanted me out of the way so that Lord Bromley would focus on her.”

“She actually said that?”

Sera nodded.

“Why was she so certain he would turn toward her after you were ruined? What if he ever found out that she started it? It would ruin her chances.”

“It was a calculated risk on her part, and I must say she lucked out. If it weren’t for the fact that Quinton and I pretended to be a love match to stem the gossip, it could have come out that she started it. But now, she will be safe from that scandal.”

“I’m so sorry, Sera.”

Sera nodded her thanks. It was an unfortunate chain of events, but the ending was happy. Thinking of Quinton, her heart swelled again. She wanted to confide everything to Aubrey, but it wasn’t the time. She needed to tell Quinton first.

Scanning the room for her fiancé, she didn’t notice Lord Bromley walk from behind the palms placed next to her and Aubrey, his hands clenched as he left.

“Have you seen Quinton yet? I need to speak with him.”

Aubrey shook her head, but scanned the crowd herself.

“My dear,” Sera’s father leaned down to talk with her. “I’m afraid Lord Devericks will not be in attendance this evening. I just received a note from one of his men stating that urgent business at one of his estates cropped up and that he needed to meet with his steward tonight. I thought you should know.”

Nodding, Sera tried to swallow her disappointment. She had so desperately wanted to see him this evening, to tell him that she knew he hadn’t started the rumor and that she was sorry for not trusting him.

“Thank you for telling me, father.”

“Is everything all right? You look rather pale.” He studied her with concern.

Sera nodded, trying to feign a smile. “Yes, all is well. But I would like to return home early tonight.”

“All right. Just send for me when you’re ready to leave,” her father said with a nod before turning to leave for the card room.

Turning toward Aubrey, Sera gave her a smile. “I hope you don’t mind me leaving you early this evening.”

Aubrey shook her head. “If that had happened to me, I would be begging my father to take me home immediately.”

Sera laughed. “It isn’t all that bad.”

“It isn’t?” Aubrey asked searchingly.

“No, it isn’t.” Seeing her friend’s silent question she added with a smile, “I will tell you soon. Don’t worry.”

After dancing a few more dances, she sent for her father. The headache excuse she had used to plead out of her remaining dances had fully formed, causing her temple to throb.

So much had happened that evening, it was almost too much to take in. Almost unreal. Sleep would help her absorb it all. It always did.

Locating her father, they made their way home. After a quick good night, Sera went up to her room and passed out.

CHAPTER 8

Disoriented, Sera sat up in bed as the grey morning light filtered into her room. It felt as if she had just fallen asleep. The bedclothes around her body looked crisp, attesting to the solid sleep she had received the previous night.

Her headache was gone, which she was eternally grateful for. Looking around the room, everything looked in place, the same as it always did.

She didn’t know why she expected it to look any other way. Last night, the ballroom had seemed so much different to her, perhaps that was why. She just felt different inside and thought her room would reflect that as well.

What had kept Quinton away last night, she wondered as she climbed out of bed. Picking up her silver backed brush, she thought of what she would say to him, how to approach her new feelings for him.

He had to feel something for her. Didn’t he?

Taking everything he possessed, the last of his money even, he had lavished her with a gift and flowers. None of it had been necessary, but it had touched her. His sacrifice had meant something to her even when she hadn’t been sure about who had started the rumor. A man wouldn’t be so unselfish for just anyone, would he?

No, she didn’t think so.

She needed to tell him, needed to reach out to him first.

Intending to write him a note, she was surprised when Lydia arrived a moment later with a letter addressed to her.

“This just arrived for you,” Lydia said with a curtsy before leaving.

Her heart hammered. Was it from Quinton?

Seeing the handwriting on the front, she knew it was from Lord Bromley and not Quinton.

Interesting. Why was the duke sending her a note so early? What could he have to say?

Inserting her finger between the sheets of paper, she released the wax securing the pages.

Dear Lady Sera,

I apologize for writing to you at such an early hour. However, I have a large favor to ask of you that cannot wait. Last night, when you said how you valued our friendship, I said you could always come to me if you ever needed help. I didn’t realize that I would need your help in return. I would ask that you would meet me by the pond at Hyde Park at ten o’clock. Please tell no one that you are meeting me. It’s important.

Sincerely,

Bradford, Lord Bromley, Duke of Wathersby

Her eyebrows furrowed as she flipped over the page, looking for any additional clues as to what the secret meeting would be about. What could Lord Bromley possibly need her help with?

She breakfasted quickly, pondering about the duke’s letter while she dressed.

The house was fully awake by the time Sera needed to sneak out. Walking out toward the back of the building, she gave the appearance that she was taking a turn in the garden. When no one was looking, she slipped out the side gate, moving quickly down the street toward the park.

With her head tilted down, she hoped that no one would notice her walking about unescorted. It was highly improper, and she hoped that no one would learn of it. She wasn’t afraid though. This part of town was quite safe, and the park was only located two blocks from her home.

Besides, Lord Bromley wouldn’t have asked her to travel alone unless it was imperative.

She walked more quickly, feeling an urgency she hadn’t felt before. He couldn’t possibly be injured; she wouldn’t be able to help him with that. Besides, if he were injured or sick, he wouldn’t want to meet her at the park. Something had to be wrong though. She had never known him to write such a desperate letter.

She arrived at the pond slightly out of breath, glancing around for any sight of him.

“Hello?” she finally called out.

“Sera. Over here.”

Turning toward a cluster of bushes, Sera hurried toward Lord Bromley’s voice. Pushing past a few branches that clawed at her dress, she peered through the dense foliage.

“Your Grace?” Cocking her head to the side, she listened for a reply. Nothing. “Bradford?” she asked, calling him by his given name. Technically it was improper to call him that, but they had almost become engaged for heaven’s sake.

“Walk forward just a little more.”

She followed the sound of his voice to a break in the plants. The small opening was large enough to fit the two of them.

He looked dashing in his morning coat, a smile on his face. Could anything be truly wrong if he were smiling?

“Is everything all right? Your letter worried me.” She breathed heavily, trying to push her panic back.

“I’m sorry about that.” He looked repentant. “I needed you to come here on your own, and it was the only way I could think of to get you here.”

“You mean you don’t need my help with anything?” Shaking his head in answer to her question, her hands rose to fists at her hips. “Why did you ask me to come here then?”

“I know, Sera.”

She paused looking over his face in confusion. “Know what?”

Softly, he took both of her hands in his. “I know that you don’t love Lord Devericks. I know you were forced into the union.”

Her mouth fell open. “How could you possibly know that?”

A blush crept over his cheeks. “I overheard your conversation last night with Lady Aubrey. I heard that Lady Victoria started the rumor about the two of you and that it isn’t true.”

“Oh.” Sera slipped her hands out of his and turned, embarrassed that he knew the truth of what had happened. “Yes. Well, it wasn’t how I thought things would turn out.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

Her head whipped around, her eyes locking with his. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to marry him.”

“Yes I do. In the eyes of society, I’m ruined. I’m engaged for heaven’s sake.” She spoke logically to him, but she didn’t mean any of it. No, she didn’t have to marry him, but she wanted to. There wasn’t anything she wanted more than to be married to the man she loved.

Feelings of love coursed through her again as she thought of Quinton, remembering the curl of his hair, the softness of his lips. She wanted to marry him, be with him for the rest of their lives.

“I can’t bear to see you sacrifice yourself for propriety’s sake.” Conviction colored his voice as he took hold of her hand, leading her a different way out of the brush.

“Sacrifice myself? Oh, no.” She shook her head forcefully. “I don’t want you to think I’m sacrificing myself. I may have been forced into it, but everything is okay now.”

They exited the bushes next to a waiting carriage. “No it isn’t. Would you mind getting inside?” he asked, his voice deadly calm.

He sounded more upset as they talked about her upcoming wedding. Trying to placate him, she climbed up into the waiting carriage.

“Drive on,” he said, giving a firm nod to his driver.

“I don’t want you to be upset by this, Bradford.” She reached out to him.

He patted her hand as the carriage hit a bump in the road. Their speed had picked up. “I’m not any longer. I will make sure you’re happy, Sera.”

A warning bell sounded in her head. “I am happy.”

He nodded as if he already knew that. “You will never want for anything.”

She glanced out of the window at the quickly passing buildings. They were heading away from her home. “What is going on? Where are we going, Bradford?” Panic settled in her chest.

“We’re going to get married.”

She jerked her hand away from him as if he had burned it. “What?” she screeched. “What do you mean we’re going to get married? I’m engaged to someone else.”

He shook his head slowly. “Not anymore. How could I let you marry someone that you don’t love? I was going to propose to you a week after the scandal hit, Sera. We would have been married if Lady Victoria hadn’t started the rumor. This is how it is supposed to be.”

She shook her head. “If I hadn’t been ruined we might have married. We may have been together. That isn’t possible now. You must see that.”

The buildings outside of the window began to thin out as they reached the edge of the city. She had to get him to turn the carriage around before anyone found out she was gone.

He reclined in his seat. “I don’t see why not. I don’t care about the scandal, Sera.” He leaned forward and took her hands again. “All I care about is being with you. I care about you very much. I know you feel it too.”

It was true. She did care for him. How could she not? For quite some time she had thought they would be married, that he would be her husband. He was everything she had wanted. She had thought she was in love with him, but not anymore.

“Yes, Bradford. I do feel it. I care for you, but not like that.” He looked at her in disbelief. “It’s true. I thought I was falling in love with you, but I’ve realized that I wasn’t.”

“You can’t mean that. We have something.”

She shook her head gently, taking her hands out of his. “No. We might have had something, but it isn’t meant to be. I’m engaged to Quinton now and I will marry him.”

“But I don’t care about all that. It doesn’t matter to me. No one will speak poorly of us.”

“But I do.” She didn’t want to have to hurt him by telling him that she was in love with Quinton, but she would if it were necessary. They needed to turn around the carriage before it was too late. Before another scandal was created. With a deep breath, she looked into his eyes. “I love Quinton, Bradford.”

He shook his head, refusing to believe her.

“I do.” She nodded. “I didn’t at first. Actually, I thought he was the one that started the rumor, but before I even found out that Lady Victoria had started it, I fell in love with him.”

He leaned forward again, pleading into her eyes. “It isn’t real, Sera. You were forced into a situation, forced to have him for a fiancé. It isn’t real. It will pass.”

Her head shook sadly, seeing his pain. She wanted to avoid that. “It won’t. I love him more than I could ever love anyone else. It won’t work between us, Bradford. We’re over. You need to turn the carriage around before any more damage is done.”

Leaning back in his chair, he studied her before shaking his head. “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Sera asked, her mouth hanging open.

“I mean no, we aren’t turning around.”

She threw her hands in the air. “But I just told you, I love Quinton.”

“I don’t believe you really do. I think that if we press on to Gretna Green, you will realize that you don’t really want to be with him.”

“Gretna Green!”

He smiled indulgently at her. “Of course. Where else could we get married on such short notice?”

“But, but…” she gestured wildly, looking for words. “But that’s in Scotland!”

A large bump in the road threw her against the carriage wall. “Ouch!”

Jumping across the carriage, Bradford took a seat next to her. “Are you all right?”

With one hand held to her throbbing head, she batted him away with the other. “No, I’m not all right. I’ve been kidnapped.”

“You’ve not been kidnapped, Sera.”

She arched a brow at him. “Really? So I may leave if I wish? I may return home?”

His mouth sealed tightly, refusing to answer.

“Just as I thought,” she said, trying to rub away the headache in her temple. “I won’t marry you, Bradford. I’m sorry.”

“You will change your mind.”

She shook her head, but stopped when it made the pain worse. “No, I won’t. I don’t think you understand. I love Quinton. I will never marry anyone other than him. I don’t care if I’m ruined and he won’t have me.”

“We will see.”

The scenery blurred in the morning light. The lush rolling green hills seemed to blend with the bright blue sky, the light causing her head to throb even more violently.

Quinton.

What would he think when she was discovered missing?

She hadn’t been able to tell him she loved him. Would he think she ran away from him to be with the duke?

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and thought of him, begging him to find her in time.

With a final push of her plea, she added one last thing to her mental message to him.

I love you.

CHAPTER 9

Quinton was sitting at his desk when a sudden panic gripped him. Something wasn’t right. The feeling of dread washed over him, but he had no idea why.

“Brums!” he called out to his butler.

Quickly entering the room, Brums looked a bit flustered from his lord’s loud summons. “Yes, my lord?”

“Is anything the matter with the staff?” His voice was a bit hoarse. A sweat broke out over his skin.

“No. Not that I know of.” He looked puzzled. “Is everything all right, my lord?”

Quinton slowly shook his head. Was he imagining it all? No. Something had to be wrong. While he had never felt this way before, he knew he wasn’t imagining it. “No. Have my horse readied at once.”

With a brisk nod, Brums left to do his lord’s bidding.

Donning his coat and hat, Quinton strode to his horse, determined to be off immediately. Where he was going, he hadn’t a clue.

Sera.

His heart raced in panic as his love’s face flew through his mind. Without a doubt, something had happened to her.

With the speed of a devil, Quinton rode through the streets of London at a neck breaking pace, only slackening the lead on the horse when he flew off his back in front of Sera’s home.

Banging on the door, he tried to calm himself. It was only a little past ten in the morning. By all accounts, most of the household would still be abed.

It only took a moment before the butler answered.

“I need to see Sera immediately.”

The butler’s mouth flapped open and closed a few times before Quinton rushed inside the house. “She is missing, my lord.”

He turned on his heel, quickly facing the gasping butler. “What do you mean missing?”

“Missing, my lord, as in she isn’t here and no one seems to know where she is.”

“How long?”

“Just this last half hour. She was last seen walking in the garden out back before she disappeared.”

Fear clogged Quinton’s throat, but he forced it down. He needed to think clearly. Where could she be? “Has her father begun the search?”

The butler nodded. “He left fifteen minutes ago.”

Quinton raked his fingers through his hair. He needed to leave quickly if he would find her. She hadn’t been gone too long. She had to be close by.

It made sense, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. “Has this ever happened before?”

“No, my lord. She has never left without an escort.”

Quinton turned, quickly heading toward the door. He needed to start looking for her immediately. “Have word sent to me if she is found.”

“Wait!” A maid cried, hurrying down the steps.

“Lydia! Do not address an earl in such a way!” the butler scolded the petite maid that had called to him.

She dropped a deep curtsy. “Beg your pardon, my lord. I thought you should see this.” She held out an opened letter to him. “I found this under Lady Sera’s desk. It arrived this morning.”

Grabbing the letter, Quinton quickly read through its contents before crumpling the paper.

Rage coursed through him. Sera had gone to Lord Bromley without an escort. It didn’t matter that the duke had asked her not to involve anyone else. He was an old suitor.

“Notify the duke immediately of his daughter’s whereabouts. I will send word once I reach the park.”

The butler nodded as Quinton flew onto his horse’s back. Their meeting place was nearby, making it easy to get there quickly.

Reaching the pond, Quinton dismounted hastily. “Sera?” he called out, without an answer in return.

He searched the area, finally seeing a broken branch in the bushes. Following the trail, Quinton found a secluded spot.

Could they have met here? Why would Sera agree to something like this?

The letter had been insistent. And Quinton knew Sera would have a soft enough heart to follow through with the duke’s wishes. But was there something more to her feelings? Was she in love with Lord Bromley?

Suddenly, the sight of a pink ribbon on a different bush caught his eye. Was it Sera’s?

Reaching out, he gripped the ribbon, bringing it to his nose. Sera’s rosy scent filled his nostrils and he let out a feral cry.

She had left with him.

The thought cut through him. He knew that she hadn’t wanted their marriage, but would she deceive him?

No. He wouldn’t believe it.

Where could they have gone? She hadn’t been gone that long and they couldn’t have made it far.

Running back to his horse, he jumped on the surprised animal, urging it to a full gallop toward the duke’s townhouse.

His home was an imposing white stone structure, gently aged to a glossy shine. The three stories of the building were full of large, sparkling windows and grey trim.

Jumping off his horse, Quinton marched up the large granite steps to the double door, ignoring the riot of colorful flowers on the stoop as he knocked the over-size brass doorknocker.

His hand flexed, twitching to punch someone, but he held it in check. He needed answers.

The door opened slowly, a middle-aged butler standing in the doorway. “May I help you?”

“I need to speak with the duke immediately.”

“I’m sorry that will not be possible. He is out at the moment.”

Quinton took an imposing step forward, but the butler didn’t seem to notice. “Where did he go?”

Straightening a bit taller, the butler looked at Quinton from head to toe, seeming to size him up. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how his Grace’s whereabouts is any of your business, Mr.…?”

“Lord Devericks, the Earl of Surrant.” The butler seemed a bit more reverent once given Quinton’s title, but nowhere near cowed enough to get his answers. “I am Lady Sera Winters’ fiancé.”

The butler’s face paled at that bit of information.

Stepping forward, Quinton pushed through the doorway when the butler began to slam the door shut. “Where has he taken her?”

The butler gulped, moving toward the wall furthest from Quinton. “Taken who?”

Quinton knew he was intimidating the man, but he didn’t care. He only cared about getting to Sera. He moved slowly toward the man, like a predator stalking his prey. “Where has Bromley taken Lady Sera?”

“I don’t know. His lordship doesn’t tell me where he goes,” he said, but Quinton saw the flicker of information pass through his eyes. This man knew where they were.

Striking quickly, Quinton grabbed the man by his throat, hauling him against the wall. In a deadly quiet tone he said, “I’ll ask one last time. Where has he taken her?”

The man flushed red as he gulped for air. Seeing his struggle, Quinton lowered the man to the floor, easing his grip so he could breathe. As indignation returned to the butler’s face, Quinton leaned forward. “Don’t lie to me again. You will regret it sorely,” he warned, almost growling the threat.

“Gretna Green.” The man rubbed his throat once released. “He took her to Gretna Green to elope.”

The man flinched when Quinton moved toward him again. “What!”

The butler gave up all pretense of bravery and spilled all the information he had. “He didn’t think Lady Sera was happy in her engagement. He was sure that she would still want to marry him, so he set out to rescue her from an unhappy union.”

Quinton didn’t wait to hear any more. Turning, he raced back to his horse. There wasn’t a moment to waste. He had to catch up to them before they got too far.

One of the Duke of Dorchester’s men waited by his horse. Vaulting into the saddle, he called out to the man, “Tell the duke that Bromley has taken her to Gretna, and that I am following them. I will return her home.”

The man nodded, quickly taking the message back to Sera’s father.

Pushing his horse, Quinton stormed through London, determined to catch up with them. He wasn’t going to lose her. He wouldn’t. The only man Sera would marry would be him. He guaranteed it.

Could she have gone willingly with the duke? Quinton shook his head, forcing out the thought. She wouldn’t betray him like that.

Thinking of the time he had spent with her since their engagement, Quinton knew she wouldn’t do that. They had become friends. And he had fallen in love with her. No, she would never willingly go with the duke.

But the fear was still there.

She hadn’t expressed any feelings for him. While it was obvious they had fallen into a sort of casual friendship, she hadn’t said she felt anything stronger for him.

Was she in love with the duke? He knew she had strong feelings for Lord Bromley, but she had told him there was no love between them, only friendship.

He clung to her words as he rode through the city.

He wanted her love for himself.

***

The sun was beginning to set when the carriage rolled to a stop at an inn. “Where are we?” Sera asked groggily, her head only slightly aching. Looking out the window, she saw the dim light of the sun setting and jerked up. Had she fallen asleep?

“We are stopping to change horses. We should be able to get some food while we are here as well, but we must not linger too long.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Quite some time.” He gestured to her head. “You must have hit your head quite hard. How is it feeling?”

She rubbed it, testing its tenderness. “It only aches a little.”

She saw relief pass over his face and she felt a little tug on her heart. Bradford wasn’t a bad man. In fact, had things turned out differently, she knew he would have made an excellent husband. It just wasn’t meant to be.

“Good. I was getting worried.”

He helped her out of the carriage. “I have a room ready so that you may see to your personal needs. You have ten minutes,” he said with a nod, turning to head into the tavern himself.

She grabbed his arm before he could leave. “Bradford,” she said, speaking quietly. “I know you care for me. I appreciate you trying to help me, but you need to take me home. Everyone will be so worried.”

He shook his head. “I wrote a letter to your father before I came to meet you. I explained what I was doing and that we would return home once we were married. It was to be delivered a few hours after we left. He should already know by now that you are safe.”

She shook her head softly, then looked into his eyes. “Quinton will be worried sick.”

“He is only marrying you for your money.”

“Maybe.” She nodded sadly. “But I know he cares for me. He will worry and I can’t bear the thought of it.”

He searched her face, the light slowly leaving his eyes. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind? I would be a good husband to you, Sera.”

She cupped his cheek. “I know you would, Bradford. You are a good man. I know you will make some woman really happy. That woman just isn’t me.”

Sighing deeply, he nodded, finally accepting defeat. “I’ll bring you home. I wouldn’t wish you to suffer any further hardships because of me.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll have them hurry with the horses, so we can be on our way at once.”

Smiling, she reached up to her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“What’s the hurry? I hear Gretna isn’t going anywhere anytime soon,” Quinton drawled.

Sera froze, still on her tiptoes from leaning up to kiss Bradford. Blinking rapidly, she couldn’t believe that she had heard his voice. Turning slowly, her body sighed. He had come for her.

“Quinton?” It came out as a question, but it was really said in reverence. She was so happy he had come for her. She knew he would.

She gathered up her skirts to run to him, but his words cut off her progress. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. It seems as if I came just in time.” His eyes blazed, cutting through her.

Her step faltered. What was wrong with him? Could he really believe she had come willingly with Bradford?

Closing her eyes, she realized what the scene must have looked like when he arrived. She had been kissing the duke.

“I think you misunderstand the situation, my lord,” Bradford finally said, stepping slightly in front of Sera.

“Oh, I think I understand perfectly.”

Sera flinched at the bitter cold in his voice.

Quinton’s gaze raked over her. “Should I have bothered coming after you, Sera? I could pretend that I never found you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to run to him, have him hold her in his arms, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. He thought she had betrayed him. Ran away from him.

His muscles were tense, rigid, almost as if he were ready to strike out at any moment. Raising her eyes to his face, her stare blazed into his green eyes. “Bradford, would you mind leaving us for a moment?” she asked, keeping her eyes locked with Quinton’s.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea, Sera? He seems quite upset.”

She nodded. Continuing to look at her fiancé, she couldn’t help seeing the grin Bradford did little to hide. “I’ll be in the tavern if you need anything.”

Neither Sera nor Quinton answered him before he left. A few minutes passed without a word, both staring at the other.

“You can’t possibly think I would run away with him, could you?”

He shrugged, but still looked tense. “You looked quite cozy with him when I arrived.”

She sighed in exasperation before walking closer to him. “He had just agreed to take me home.”

His startled look made her want to laugh. His eyes looked into hers, probing her soul. “Do you mean it? You were coming back to London?”

She nodded, finally reaching out to him. “I was coming back to you.” She stepped into his arms.

A grin cracked his lips. “You mean you don’t want to become the Duchess of Wathersby anymore?”

She pretended to think it over. “Well, a duchess would be nice.” Seeing the smile wipe off his face, she laughed. “But I would much prefer to be the Countess of Surrant.”

Tucking his tongue in his cheek, he said, “I think I could arrange that.”

She laughed, flinging her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

His arms tightened around her waist, his whole body leaning into her. “Say it again.”

Leaning away from him, she looked deep into his eyes. “I love you, Quinton.”

His whole body relaxed as he rested his forehead against hers. “I might have been a little worried that you ran off with him.” His hand cupped her neck, their lips almost touching. “I love you, Sera. So much it hurts.”

With a cry of happiness, she rose up the rest of the way to his lips, placing hers firmly against his.

He groaned and the sound shot to the depths of her soul, speaking to her more strongly than words ever could.

They embraced in the fading light, locked in each other’s arms, their love uniting them as one.

Quinton kissed her again and again, one kiss fading into the next. Sera had never felt so wonderful, so complete in her whole life. Everything finally settled into place. This is the man she would marry. This is the man who she would love for the rest of her life and beyond. She never wanted to part from him.

“Let’s go to Gretna Green,” Quinton said, breaking their kiss. “I don’t want to go another day without you as my wife.”

A surprised laugh escaped her lips. “But what about my family?”

“They knew that I was coming after you. It won’t take them long to realize what we’ve done.”

She laughed again, but the idea wrapped around her soul and made her glow. She could be married to Quinton by tomorrow night.

Quinton looked back at his horse. “Do you think Lord Bromley will let us borrow his carriage?”

A sly smile crept to her lips. “I think he owes it to us.”

“So, what do you think?” He looked into her eyes, begging her to say yes.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him another quick kiss. “I say yes. Take me to Gretna Green, Quinton. Make me your wife.”

She saw his grin before he swooped down, kissing her again, claiming her entire soul.

Pulling away, he took her hand, tugging her toward the tavern. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh.

“To speak with Bromley so we can leave.”

“Now?”

“Now.” He nodded firmly.

As she trailed behind him, she couldn’t help but smile. She had found love, and she would never, ever, let it go.

*****

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MASQUERADE SECRETS (SCANDALS & SECRETS - BOOK 2) - EXCERPT

CHAPTER 1

London, 1835

If boredom could bring tears, Lady Aubrey Langston would be crying buckets by now. She sat in the parlor, sipping tea with other women of the ton as they waited patiently for the men to rejoin them after they finished their after-dinner cigars and brandy.

The meal portion of their evening had gone well, although the conversation had been quite dry. Why she was forced to endure such tedious company was beyond her. It was just the way society worked.

“What are your thoughts on the matter, Lady Aubrey?”

Jumping slightly, Aubrey realized she hadn’t been listening to the conversation.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, trying to seem like she had only missed the woman’s latest comment.

Lady Penbrook smiled patiently, clearly knowing she had caught Aubrey woolgathering. “We were speaking of Regency fashion compared to today’s fuller gowns. I was wondering which you would prefer if there were a choice.”

“Oh.” Aubrey softly set down her cup of tea on the glossy side table, giving the matron her full attention. “While the clean lines and simplicity of the gowns were beautiful during the Regency, I much prefer the gowns of today.”

The rest of the women had quieted to listen to Aubrey’s opinion. “Interesting. Why is that?”

Aubrey smiled knowingly. “I enjoy the full skirts and the more decorative designs now. You can hide any imperfection behind a dress and feel confident that you look your best. You can be anyone, anything. There was much less possibility of that during the Regency.

Laughing, Lady Penbrook nodded her agreement, her full girth bouncing with the movement. “Quite so, my dear.”

As Lady Penbrook turned to converse with another woman, Aubrey took a sip of her tea and sighed. It was the beginning of a new season, and all she could do was hope it would end quickly.

When she had come out into society three seasons ago, she had instantly bonded with Lady Sera Winters, and they had stuck by each other’s side through most of the parties.

If only she were here now.

The doors that adjoined the dining room opened; the men spilled out of the smoke laden room. Lady Penbrook rose to greet the men once again, gesturing for them to be seated on the roomy settees.

Looking up to see the last man rejoin the group, Aubrey was surprised to see a face that had been absent in recent months. Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby, strode into the room with a confidence she had grown accustomed to over the last season.

“Lord Bromley,” Lady Penbrook spoke with surprise. “When you did not join us for dinner I despaired of you finding your way here this evening. I hope all is well.”

Taking Lady Penbrook’s hand, he bowed over it in greeting, every strand of his chestnut hair staying in place. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was waylaid with a matter of business that could not be detained.”

She waved aside his apology. “It’s no matter, we are just grateful that you have joined us. It has been quite lonely without you the last few months. I do hope you plan to stay in town for some time.”  Lord Bromley nodded, but didn’t expand upon his plans.

He had set his cap for Aubrey’s best friend, Lady Sera Winters, and with her scandal and subsequent marriage to Lord Devericks, he had retired to one of his estates to escape from the gossip.

This was his first appearance back into society. It was also the first time he had been unattached in almost a year.

“Please, be seated.” Lady Penbrook indicated to the open spot next to Aubrey. “I’m sure Lady Aubrey would enjoy your company.”

Indeed she would. While courting her friend, he had always managed to make sure Aubrey enjoyed herself as well. He often asked her to dance directly after Sera, making sure she always had a partner to enjoy the music with.

Wanting to reassure him that there was no awkwardness because of her friend’s union, she smiled invitingly at him, gesturing to the space next to her on the settee.

His scent hit her first, rushing into her with a force she had difficulty deflecting.

In her opinion, he had always smelled as a man should. The sharp aroma of soap clung to his skin, mingling with his own spicy scent. It was a masculine smell that didn’t cause her nose to wrinkle in disgust. He never reeked of smoke or alcohol as other men so often did. It was comforting, always allowing her to relax in his company. “Good evening, Lady Aubrey. You are looking well.”

“Thank you, my lord. You are also looking well this evening.” His formal attire was crisp, clean, almost as if he had just dressed. His shoulders filled out his coat nicely, not to the point where he looked ready to tear the seams, but enough to hint at the muscles hidden within. She knew of his strength. Enough dancing around the ballroom, his frame strong and secure, had given her all the evidence she needed. She cleared her throat, trying not to think of those muscles, or anything else of his. While she didn’t mind having improper thoughts, thinking of Lord Bromley that way was a bit unnerving. Up until a few months ago, he was all but engaged to her best friend. “I hope your journey was pleasant.”

“Yes, it was. The roads were clear and made the trip a short one.” He glanced over the rest of the group that was clearly involved in another discussion of some sort. “I hope it is not too much of an imposition,” he paused, seeming to reconsider his words before continuing. “I was wondering if you could tell me how Lady Sera is faring in her marriage to Lord Devericks,” he said in a low voice, careful not to let the rest of the room hear his request.

Discreetly glancing at the other guests to make sure they were fully occupied elsewhere, she leaned toward him. “She is doing well, my lord. She is still with Lord Devericks on the continent, and they aren’t expected back for several more weeks. She seems quite happy.”

“Ah.” He smiled ruefully. “Well, I am glad to hear she is content.”

“Yes, she is.” It was a bit awkward speaking of Sera, because she knew everything that had happened between Lord Bromley and her friend. It wasn’t commonly known that Lord Bromley had kidnapped Lady Sera and had tried to take her to Gretna Green to elope, hoping to help Sera out of an unwanted marriage, before Lord Devericks caught up with them. Had he guessed that Sera had told her of it?

She looked at him, searching his expression to see if he suspected that she knew what had transpired. “Did the country agree with you? Everyone was so surprised by your sudden withdrawal from town.”

He smiled roguishly at her, a glimmer of humor in his eye. “It was very… peaceful. I admit though that I was ready to come back.”

Looking away from him, she tried to hide her smile. So, he knew that Sera had told her, and didn’t look contrite at all. “Well, everyone will be so pleased that you have returned.”

“No doubt,” he said dryly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with a young debutant’s mother.

Seeing the interaction between the two, Aubrey couldn’t help but chuckle. “Indeed. I fear there will be many young women setting their cap for you.”

He visibly shuddered at the thought. “I do hope you are wrong.” At her arched eyebrow, he laughed. “But I doubt you are. It isn’t all that easy being an unmarried duke, you know.”

“Really? I find it hard to believe that you suffer over much from the title.”

“You have no idea. You wouldn’t be half as eager to tease me if you knew the truth of the matter.”

She regarded him skeptically. “I doubt it could be worse than being an unmarried lady.”

“You’d be surprised.” He grinned at her.

“I doubt it. You will always have the choice of whether to extend an offer of marriage or not. You may pursue whomever you wish without fear of your reputation. Women can hardly claim such freedoms.”

“Touché.” He nodded as if awarding her the point, and Aubrey couldn’t help but smile at the small triumph.

Lady Penbrook jumped up in excitement, pulling Aubrey and Lord Bromley out of their friendly banter. “What a fabulous idea!” All conversation in the room stopped to listen to what Lady Penbrook was so animated over.

Turning toward the rest of the room, Lady Penbrook gestured wildly in her excitement. “Lady Templeton has decided to host a masquerade in one month’s time.”

As the room’s noise level rose in excitement, Aubrey glanced over at the older woman who had now promised to host one of the most looked forward to events of the season. Her silvery evening gown glimmered with sequins, matching the silver plume in her greying hair.

“Lord Bromley, would you please come and offer your suggestions for the event?” Lady Penbrook trilled, gesturing for him to come forward.

With a nod to Lady Aubrey, he bravely went forth into the world of planning.

Aubrey watched him leave, willing her eyes to leave his form, but without success. He was an attractive man, but he was too far above her. There wasn’t anything wrong with appreciating his form and then moving on. And indeed she would move on. She’d have to.

The duke would never be for her.

***

Aubrey looked up from her writing desk as Charlotte, her younger sister, burst into her room, her nightdress trailing behind her like a snow flurry.

“Is it true, Aubrey? Is there to be a masquerade?”

Setting her quill aside, Aubrey ignored the correspondence she was catching up on. It was a habit of hers to do it before she turned in for the night instead of during the early hours of the morning like most women. “Yes, Lady Templeton is hosting it in one month.”

Charlotte squealed, racing over to give her sister a hug. “I can’t believe it! A masquerade within the first two months of my debut.”

Aubrey couldn’t help getting wrapped up in her sister’s excitement. There had been so many years of longing and disappointment that she had forgotten what it was like to be young and new to the glittering world of the ton. “I think we’ll have to visit Madame Devereaux’s shop early tomorrow to order our costumes. I have a feeling she will be inundated with customers very shortly.”

Madame Devereaux was a French modiste that had found great success in the ton. Her shop, located on Bond Street, was usually bustling with business.

“Yes, of course! What a brilliant idea.” Charlotte began to pace the length of Aubrey’s bedroom floor, one of her burnt-gold curls falling lose from her plait. “I must decide what I shall be.”

Aubrey skimmed over the beauty her younger sister was, admiring how traits similar to her own had turned out so differently in her younger sister. They shared the exact same shade of honey-colored hair, the same straight, pert nose, and the same full lips. But that is where the similarities ended. Her sister was reed-thin, the desirable petiteness that society had decided was all the rage. Aubrey, however, had a much different body type. She often joked that it was more suited to a mistress, lush and full in the hips and bust.

She wasn’t as tall as her younger sister either. The smallness of her own stature only emphasized her curves, making them seem more extreme.

While her looks weren’t deemed fashionable, she didn’t ever wish to change them. What would be the point? She was who she was and she was happy with herself. There were girls who were much more plain looking than she, and she was lucky that she had been blessed with what she had.

“I think I shall be a butterfly.” Charlotte nodded at her decision, seemingly pleased with her choice. “What will you be?”

“I haven’t any clue.” Aubrey wanted to laugh at her sister’s shocked face. To her, this masquerade was everything. To Aubrey, who had been in society for three seasons, this was just another ball. “I think I’ll leave it up to Madame Devereaux to decide.”

This suggestion was met with a reverent nod. “I think that is a good choice. She will know the perfect costume for you.” With a final nod, her sister smiled. “This is so wonderful. I am glad you are able to go to all the parties with me. It would be lonely without you. How did you ever manage it by yourself?”

“I had Sera,” Aubrey sighed, thinking of her recently married friend. How would she ever do without her? Sera had been her friend and confidant. But that was before her marriage. Now Aubrey was facing society, after three unsuccessful seasons, with her younger sister.

“I’m sure that was such a comfort to you.” Moving over to Aubrey’s desk, Charlotte gave her sister a hug. “She will return soon.”

Patting Charlotte’s hand, Aubrey nodded. What her sister didn’t understand was that even when Sera returned, it would be different. She was a married woman, and Aubrey was not. They would move in completely different circles until Aubrey married. If she ever married.

“Well, I’m off to bed. Let’s leave early so we can occupy Madam Devereaux as long as we wish.” Charlotte grinned before leaving the room.

Her sister hadn’t been kidding about leaving early. A little after her maid had lit a fire in the grate, Charlotte breezed into the room, opening the curtains along the way. “I’ve sent up Bitsy to help you dress, and I’ve already sent for a breakfast tray.”

“What time is it?” Aubrey looked toward the clock. “Goodness, Charlotte. Her shop might not even be open yet.”

“It will open for us.”

Aubrey saw the determined look in her sister’s face and laughed. “The shop will probably open early after the news of the masquerade.” Tossing the bedclothes aside, Aubrey sat up and slipped her feet into her slippers. “We might as well go early too.”

The grin that split her sister’s face made leaving her soft, warm bed worth it. “Excellent. I shall go change and meet you downstairs in an hour.”

Once Bitsy, her maid, arrived, Aubrey was dressed and finishing breakfast in record time. Locating a pair of gloves, Aubrey made her way down the staircase to meet her waiting sister.

“I am glad you are on time. I was worried I would have to come fetch you.”

Securing the last button on her glove, Aubrey laughed. “You really need to calm down, Charlotte. We will get to the shop on time and we will get the dresses that we want. There is no reason to worry over it, dear.”

“I know.” Charlotte let out a cleansing breath. “I am just excited. I am sorry for acting like a crazy debutant.”

“Darling, you are a crazy debutant.”

They both laughed as they made their way out the door and into the carriage.

Bond Street was already bustling with business when they arrived. While members of the ton had still to make an appearance, it was the working class that dominated the market. Waking up in the early hours of the morning gave them time to do the chores they needed to before their employers woke, and that included shopping.

“I think I shall never be sick of coming here,” Charlotte declared, looking out the window at the people running around in a frenzy.

The smell of smoke filled the air in the carriage, along with the unpleasant tang from horse droppings. “I think the stench would be enough to keep anyone away,” Aubrey said dryly.

Charlotte arched a brow at her before returning her attention out of the carriage.

Madam Devereaux’s shop wasn’t flamboyant, but rather subdued in high-class taste. Unlike their American counterparts, the English preferred clean, uncluttered lines.

Exiting the carriage, Charlotte sighed at the display window. “Isn’t that deep plum silk heavenly?”

“Yes.” Aubrey looked at it from a different angle. “It might just be the fabric for your costume. I think the deep purple tones would work well for a butterfly.”

Almost screeching her excitement, Charlotte gripped Aubrey’s hand. “You are absolutely right. Let’s make haste. I want to secure it before someone else sees it.”

Charlotte marched into the modiste’s shop, clearly on a mission.

“Lady Aubrey, Lady Charlotte. Welcome. What brings you into my shop so early?” Madam Devereaux asked with a knowing wink.  “A masquerade perhaps?”

The modiste was rather young for someone with such success. She wore a dress of deep rose muslin. The fabric was of the highest quality, attesting to her wealth. Not every dressmaker had the luxury of wearing their best fabrics.

Charlotte took an excited step forward. “Exactly. We’ve come early so we could arrive before any others.”

“Well you certainly have.” Madam Devereaux gestured toward the pedestal. “We shall take your measurements first. If you please, Lady Charlotte.”

After the modiste received a measuring device from her assistant, Charlotte stepped up on the round platform.

The tape measured Charlotte’s waist. “Have you thought of a costume yet?”

“Yes, actually.” Charlotte made sure to stand still while she spoke. “I thought I would dress as a butterfly. I think the plum silk in your window would be perfect.”

Nodding shrewdly, Madam Devereaux continued to take her measurements. “I agree. The color would do wonders for you.” Pausing a moment, the modiste jotted down some numbers, before continuing. “And have you thought of something for yourself, Lady Aubrey?”

“I thought I would leave that up to you. I think you would have a better idea of which costume would suit me best.”

At hearing this, Madam Devereaux turned with a small wink. “I have just the thing. You will have men eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“I should very much like to see that,” Charlotte said, giggling before returning to her statuesque pose.

The modiste nodded. “And you certainly will. I have just the thing for your sister.”

Aubrey blushed slightly as the modiste took another long look at Aubrey’s curves. What did the modiste have in mind? On second thought, perhaps she shouldn’t have given the final say to the modiste. Aubrey had no intention of going to a ball dressed in something that made her feel uncomfortable in mixed company.

“Do not worry, Lady Aubrey. You will love it.” With a reassuring smile, she continued, “It will not be something that will make you wish you had stayed at home because of the scandal it will cause,” she said, effectively reading Aubrey’s mind. “In fact, I will even add a little magic to this one.”

“Magic? Can you do that?” Charlotte asked, completely drawn in by the thought of a dress containing magic.

“Certainly. Just you wait and see.”

Aubrey smiled at the excited grin her sister threw at her before heaving a sigh. It would have to be some substantial magic to have men fawning all over her. In the few years she had been out into society, she had never come close to a feat such as that.

After Aubrey had her measurements taken, and the plum silk was pulled from the display window, Madam Devereaux whisked them out of the shop. “I will have these gowns delivered to your home before the masquerade. And don’t worry about a thing Lady Aubrey, it will be perfect.” The modiste gave one last wink before turning back into her shop.

The month before the masquerade flew by. The parties were the same, the people were the same. The only thing different was that she was sitting along the wall by herself. Sera had still not arrived home from the continent, and her younger sister had taken society by storm. With her popularity, it was rare that Charlotte ever got a moment to sit along the fringe of the room.

The masquerade this evening would no doubt be another triumph for her.

“Right on time, my lady.” Bitsy laid the wrapped gown on her bed. “Oh, and this note was delivered with it,” she said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.

“Thank you, Bitsy.”

“My pleasure, my lady. I will return soon to help you dress.” With a nod, Bitsy curtsied and left.

The dress had been placed on her bed, folded in a shimmery paper that obscured the fabric from view.

Seconds ticked by as Aubrey stared at the bundled package. Her nerves seemed to stretch, fray, and end on a sizzle that she felt all the way to her toes.

Why did she hesitate to open it? The dress had rarely entered her mind over the last month, but she couldn’t seem to stop her reaction to it now. Madam Devereaux had said she would add magic to the gown, enough that men would be eating out of the palm of her hand. Of course that was nonsense, but there was something in the air, something that seemed alive and ready to pounce.

That was what had her pausing, had her contemplating the folded material.

Would it be a light silk, or a dark? Would it have ruffles and lace, perhaps even a few small gems sewn into it?

The possibilities were endless.

Reaching out, the fabric felt cold yet still soft and pliant. The silver threads in the protective layer of fabric shimmered in the soft candlelight.

With a deep breath, Aubrey untied the ribbon, hearing the satiny edges of the material whistle as they loosened.

The silver sparkle fell away, almost in deference to the gold that shone through beneath. The silk was beautiful and unlike any she had ever seen.

In reverence, Aubrey reached out to run her fingers over the shimmering fabric. Unlike the silver, the dress was warm, snapping to life at contact. Jerking her hand away, Aubrey laughed slightly. The shock the material had delivered to her finger was just a coincidence.

A quiet knock sounded at her door before Bitsy walked in again. “Are you ready to dress?”

Aubrey nodded, unsure if she could speak. What had come over her? It was just a dress. Just a silly dress she would wear to a masquerade. There wasn’t magic in it, there wasn’t anything special about it. Except that the material was exquisite. The gold silk had a swirling pattern in a darker gold, almost as if a fairy had cast the design with her wand.

Clucking her tongue, Aubrey scolded herself. It wouldn’t do her any good to think that the gown was anything more than a costume.

“This is beautiful, Lady Aubrey. I’ve never seen a gown to compare!” Bitsy said in awe as she lifted the gown over Aubrey’s head.

“I agree. The material is unique. I haven’t seen anything more beautiful.”

After the last lace had been tied, Bitsy stepped back to view her work. “It looks like it could be made with magic.”

“What?” Aubrey asked, slightly alarmed. Had she unknowingly said something in front of Bitsy?

“It looks like it could have been made with magic. I wager that gentlemen won’t be able to take their eyes off you tonight. Have a look,” Bitsy said, gesturing toward the mirror.

Looking at her reflection, Aubrey could believe the dress held magic. While she doubted it before, she was more open to the idea now. She barely recognized herself. The material gleamed in different hues of gold, all swirling into a floral pattern. The skirt was layered in petals of fabric, creating an almost fairy-like appearance. She looked lush, full, the dress emphasizing her feminine attributes instead of concealing them.

She looked like a pagan goddess. Her hair was more golden; her eyes glimmered like the rarest of emeralds. Every part of herself was enhanced, perfected.

At any other ball she would feel self-conscious, like she was showing too much of herself. But tonight was different. Tonight she wasn’t Lady Aubrey. Tonight she was a stranger. She could be anyone, be anything.

The thought excited her. For a few years she had stayed in the corner, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. Tonight would be different.

“Aubrey, you look fantastic!” Charlotte said, entering the room with excitement. “Madame Devereaux certainly outdid herself with that creation.” A sly grin curved her lips. “I have no doubt her prediction will come to pass this evening. The men stand no chance.”

A small laugh escaped Aubrey’s lips before she sobered a bit. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. Something was in the air tonight. She could feel it. She just didn’t know what it was.

“Mother asked me to fetch you. She is waiting in the carriage.”

Aubrey nodded, reaching toward the table for her jeweled mask, its gold ribbons trailing behind it.

Following Charlotte, Aubrey climbed into the carriage. The night was bright, clearly lit by a full moon. She wasn’t superstitious, but she could believe that magic would happen on a night like this.

Her mother and sister chatted quietly, but Aubrey didn’t hear them. It was as if a spell had been cast over her. The closer they came to their destination, the more firmly the enchantment was placed.

“Secure your masks, my dears,” her mother said as they rolled to a stop in front of Lady Templeton’s home. “We have arrived.”

Placing the mask over her face, she felt something within herself break free. This night would be different than any other, and she intended to enjoy every moment of it.

Securing the mask, she felt the thick, silky ribbons kiss her neck, sending a shiver through her body.

Walking into the large home in Mayfair, Aubrey noticed that most of the guests had arrived, lingering in either the ballroom or hall. Dancing had begun, although she couldn’t see the dancers yet, the music floated to her in the hallway.

While newly arrived guests were not being announced, they were still expected to pause at the top of the stairs so others would notice their arrival. Waiting their turn, Aubrey noticed that hardly anyone was paying attention to who arrived.

At least they weren’t until she was standing atop the stairs.

Conversations seemed to stop as she walked down into the ballroom, all eyes focused on her. If it weren’t for the confidence she felt coursing through her, the knowledge that no one knew who she was, she would be worried that something was wrong, that perhaps she had forgotten an important article of clothing.

But nothing was out of place.

In fact, she felt strong, powerful. More so than she had ever felt in her life. Every man seemed to stop what he was doing to absorb her, to take her fully in as she slowly made her way to the floor.

The attention made her cheeks sting with delight, but she didn’t hesitate. She knew that it was just the beginning.

***

The boredom that Bradford, Lord Bromley, the Duke of Wathersby felt as he stood in the overly crowded ballroom was almost more than he could bear. Young debutants skittered by him speaking loudly, emboldened enough by their disguises to try to catch his attention. He wasn’t a fool. Everyone seemed to think that they wouldn’t be recognized, but he never understood that notion. A person with a mask on was the same person without it. Nothing changed.

Would it always be this way? The monotony of society eating at him at every social function? The smell of too many bodies, their sweet perfume and pungent cologne clogging the air? It all seemed so unbearable now. There was nothing left of the excitement he had felt as a young buck, ready to branch out into society. There was only ennui, exasperation.

Perhaps, if he had married Lady Sera…

He shook the thought right out of his head. It wouldn’t do to dwell upon the failed relationship with the new Countess of Surrant. The false scandal that had ruined her reputation, causing Quinton Devericks, the Earl of Surrant, to propose, was nothing he wanted to think about.

It was time to move on. Fortunately, he had never been in love with Lady Sera. Her beauty and wit had held his attention, and the friendship they had formed had moved him to propose. But there was never any love between them.

Now he needed to find a new duchess. Preferably one that didn’t drive him mad, he thought as another young debutant giggled by him.

If there was one thing that his father had drilled into him since a young age, it was the need to marry and beget heirs quickly. He had put it off as long as possible, but his father’s last request, that his only son marry while still young, weighed on him heavily.

While the prospect didn’t bring him any happiness, it was his duty. And Bradford believed strongly in fulfilling his duty.

He was a duke, and the power that came with his station demanded great responsibility. He could no sooner turn from those who depended on him than cut off his own arm. It was his duty to his family, servants, and the title that demanded that he marry and secure the land and their livelihood for future generations, but it wasn’t something he relished the thought of.

He wanted his marriage ceremony over with, wanted an heir even more so that he had no need to worry about it any longer. He wanted peace and quiet. He wanted the endless balls and meaningless conversations to stop. The quiet solitude of his country manor called to him in a way he was sure other aristocrats in London wouldn’t understand. But he was a long way from his serene estate.

Sighing heavily, he looked up at the painted ceiling. Roman décor was all the rage now, and clearly Lady Templeton had taken to the style with open arms. The large columns and busts of men from those ancient times lined the room in small alcoves. Soft wisps of fabric, gently blowing in the light breeze from the windows, had been hung from the ceiling, carefully shielding stone benches along the wall.

It might have all seemed so strange if half of the guests weren’t dressed in the roman fashion, the women in white togas, fabric gracefully draped over one shoulder. It was all the other costumes that felt strange in the room. The worst he had seen, by far, was the man dressed as a chicken. His feathers looked as if they had been rolled around in a chicken coop one time too many, and the smell didn’t help either.

A few gentlemen, including himself, had chosen to wear formal attire from a century earlier. The ruffles on his shirt, both his chest and arms, were somewhat annoying, but his valet had insisted upon it. He was grateful now, however. His valet could have chosen the chicken costume. He shuddered at the thought.

The room quieted around him. Had the disgust he felt been so apparent? Looking around, however, he realized he wasn’t the person who drew everyone’s eyes.

Glancing up at the top of the staircase, he briefly scanned the three ladies entering, quickly dismissing them before jerking his gaze back to the last woman. With his eyes fastening to the luscious curves beneath the gold swirl cutouts, the breath whooshed out of his chest as he took her in.

No wonder the room had quieted. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen anyone more beautiful than the masked woman who had just entered.

Her curves were plentiful in all the right areas. Her dress molded to those deep curves, accentuating her small waist. Her lips were a lush rose, and he felt his body tighten at the thought of them on his own. Like a crown, her golden hair was artfully secured, only a light curl teased her neck. He couldn’t see her eyes from this distance, but he imagined that they were green, a green so lush and vibrant that the Emerald Isle itself would be put to shame.

She entered the room like a queen, uncaring that she caused such a disruption. Was she used to such a thing? Seeing a slight hesitation in her decent, his attraction flared even higher. She wasn’t so aloof that she didn’t notice the chaos she created.

With only a stair left, the room lurched forward, men climbing over one another to get to her side first. None of them mattered though.

He would have her for himself.

With a few strides, he placed himself in her line of sight. Almost as a magnet, her eyes locked onto his.

The electricity that passed between them had a life of its own. It drowned out everyone and everything. All that was left were the two of them in a bond that wouldn’t break.

He jerked as energy passed through him, felt it to the depth of his soul. Had he ever felt such a connection with someone before? Never, his mind seemed to scream.

Again, the room quieted, almost as if they had been singed by the energy flowing between the two of them. Glancing between the mysterious lady and the duke, the other guests backed away, acknowledging the duke’s rank and his obvious interest in the woman.

She watched him, waiting patiently for his next move. And he was never one to disappoint.

Slowly approaching her, his eyes never left hers. After an exaggerated bow, he offered her his hand in silent request.

He didn’t doubt that she would take it. Her eyes were drowning in his, just as lost as he was. There was no fighting what was happening between them, no way to stop where they were heading.

And he didn’t want to.

He thought he was prepared to dance with her, to take her, to claim her. But when her slender, white hand joined his, he realized he had sadly overestimated his control.

His body clenched at the contact, every nerve fraying in overload. It took every ounce of his control to keep from reaching out to her, pulling her flush against him and kissing her full mouth.

He had never felt this fierce of a desire, hadn’t known that it existed.

He had been with other women before, but none compared to her. And he knew that none ever would.

Silently, he led her to the floor, the rest of the room quiet as they watched the woman who could have come from another time, perhaps another world even.

With the first notes of a waltz, the rest of the floor filled with dancers, eager to hear any snippet of conversation that might pass between the beautiful woman and the duke.

In silent question, Bradford lifted his hand, again asking her permission to touch her waist.

With a slow smile that started with just a small upturn of her lips, she gave her consent. The small change to her face hit him full force, pulling him farther under.

Who was she? Was it possible they had met before?

No. He immediately discarded the thought. If he had met her before, there was no way he would have not pursued her. She was sublime, the paradigm of women.

Maybe she was visiting a relative in town, or perhaps this was her first season. However, after a few seconds of dancing with her, seeing how she adjusted to his frame, he could tell this wasn’t her first. She had danced with more men than just a dance instructor.

She also didn’t seem dazzled by the ball around her, at the opulence of it all. In fact, she seemed the opposite. The guests were what interested her. Glancing around at the people watching her, she seemed to take delight in the fact that they were giving her their attention, almost as if she weren’t used to being in the spotlight.

He wanted to laugh at the thought. She must attract attention wherever she went.

Abruptly, he realized he hadn’t spoken a word to her. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a rich, deep tone. “I fear I have just realized that I have neglected to introduce myself.”

His voice broke through Aubrey’s dreamy haze like a splash of cold water. She knew that voice, had heard it many times in the past year. The Duke of Wathersby.

But no, it couldn’t be, she thought, stiffening in his arms. She watched as his brows puzzled and almost cursed her lack of control.

“Have I said something to offend you?” he asked, his voice low with concern.

With a deep breath, she tried to stabilize the flutters in her stomach. How could she not have instantly known who he was? “On the contrary,” she said, her voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I was surprised is all. I had not recognized you in your costume, Your Grace.”

His features quickly arranged in shock. Did he really not know who she was?

Searching his face, she could see that he didn’t. Did she truly look so different? They had danced many dances together just like this, had conversed formally on so many occasions that she had lost count. Yet he didn’t recognize her.

He cleared his throat. “We have already met?”

She nodded once before looking down. She had thought him a stranger, someone who perhaps lived in the country and hadn’t met or heard of her. There had been a connection between them when they had first locked eyes. There was still one now. She could feel it wrapped around her like a tight band, slowly cinching until she couldn’t breathe. Why these feelings? Why now?

She looked up at him with a touch of hopelessness. Once he realized who she was, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her.

“Many times?” he asked, seeming to hedge away from her answer.

“Yes, my lord. Many, many times,” she said quietly.

He shook his head in denial as he pulled her closer. “I don’t believe it! Had we met before this night…” he trailed off, seeming to struggle with something.

Did he feel the pull between them as she did? Did he feel it closing in on him, harnessing them together? She looked up into his eyes, searching for her answers.

How could she not have felt this before? It felt so normal, so right.

She was a fool.

She shook her head and looked away, despair filling her. There was no future between the two of them.

Clearly reading her thoughts, he squeezed her hand, willing her eyes to connect with his. “Who are you?”

She inhaled quickly, stumbling over a step. He caught her, using the momentum to twirl her around the floor.

“I’d rather not say.”

“I must know.”

She shook her head. “Let’s just leave it how it is. Let’s just enjoy the dance until it ends.”

“And that is enough for you?” His voice took on a gruff edge that settled inside her.

His eyes searched hers, trying to pry out her secrets. Lowering her head she confessed softly, “No. But there is no other way.”

Seeming frustrated, he looked around the room before dancing them to the edge of the floor, discreetly slipping them out to a terrace that was a bit more private than the crowded ballroom.

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean, brisk scent on the stones.

Walking to the railing furthest from the door, the music that floated into the warm night seemed distant, hazier as if she were in a dream. She wasn’t in danger of being compromised here, but the thought of being alone with him caused a tingle in her spine.

Pulling her gaze from the doorway, she turned to look at him, surprised to find him staring out over the gardens.

Longing rushed through her so quickly she gasped. His form wasn’t bulky, but she could clearly see his muscles flexing beneath his clothes. Had she ever been so attracted to a man before?

As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to face her, desire clearly shown through his eyes before he masked it. His smile threw her off.

“So I cannot convince you to tell me your name?”

She hesitated, feeling a trap being set around her, but couldn’t figure out what it was. “I would rather not, Your Grace.”

“Call me, Bradford.” Opening her mouth, she wanted to tell him that it would be best if she didn’t, but he cut her off. “I have no desire to have such formality between us.”

She swung around in frustration. Could he not see how difficult this was for her? “I should go back inside.”

“Why do you wish to leave?”

Pivoting, she turned halfway toward him with a ready excuse, but seeing him, she couldn’t lie. “Nothing can come between us, Your Grace.”

“Bradford.” He took her hand gently. “And why not? Are you married? Betrothed?” he asked, the concern in his voice evident.

She shook her head sadly. “No, Your Grace. Bradford,” she said, correcting herself. She couldn’t deny him such a small request.

“Then what is it? What reason could there be?” He looked at her, clearly trying to draw out her secrets. “You feel what is between us.”

She nodded. “Yes. But nothing can come of it.”

He took her shoulders, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to shake her. Lifting her eyes to his, she read his frustration and her heart began to crack. The fates were so cruel.

“We have known each other for several seasons, danced more dances than I can count, have had several conversations. What you feel for me now, it’s just an illusion. If I told you who I was, it would all be gone.” Saying the words hurt, but it would hurt even more if she told him who she was and he turned away from her. This was the only way.

“It doesn’t matter who you are. How I feel about you won’t change because of your name.”

Her heart leaped at his words, but she couldn’t trust in them. He was the Duke of Wathersby, the most sought after man in the ton. He had courted her best friend, the incomparable of the season. She had no such beauty. Like so many other girls, she had a generous dowry, but there was little else she had to offer him.

“You don’t believe me,” he said, astonishment clear in his voice.

She hesitated, finding her words. She couldn’t look at him. “It isn’t that I doubt your words. It is only that your feelings could change after you know my name. What if I have a scandalous background?”

“I wouldn’t care,” he interrupted her quickly, his voice firm.

She laughed softly, however it was one more of sadness than gaiety. “You say that now. And no, I don’t have a scandalous background. It was just an example.”

“What can I do to prove to you that I am in earnest? I mean what I say. It doesn’t matter who you are. You are meant to be with me.”

She felt his words to the very depths of her soul. She had dreamed of those words being said to her, dreamed about this very moment. But he wasn’t saying them to her, Aubrey Langston. He was saying them to the masquerade lady. To a figment of his imagination. To a woman who was nothing but an illusion.

She shook her head.

“How can you deny it?” He gripped her upper arms. “How can you say that you aren’t meant to be with me?”

“Because you don’t know me! You desire an illusion. A person who is not real.”

“No. I desire you.” He pulled her flush against his body. “And I can’t fight it another second.” He swooped down to cover her lips with his. A surprised gasp escaped from her.

He relished the taste of her, taking the kiss from innocent to dark as his tongue swept inside to conquer. He had never tasted anything so exquisite, anything so potent as this woman’s lips. Fire shot through his senses, demanding that he take more and more of her.

All his frustrations poured into the kiss, branding her as his. He could feel every curve of her body against the hard lines of his. They fit, more perfectly than he could have imagined. She seemed to be made for him.

He kissed her thoroughly, leaving little doubt that he would ever leave her alone. He was claiming her in the deepest way he knew how. He was claiming her soul.

He broke the kiss, looking into her glassy eyes. It didn’t matter who she was or where she went. She was his now. Now and forever.

He had never believed in love at first sight. He thought it was ridiculous that someone could fall in love when they knew nothing of the person. But he did now. It was more than lust, much more. But that was there as well. He seemed to know her on a deeper level. His soul recognized hers.

He didn’t need to know what her favorite book was or how she liked her tea. They meant nothing. All that mattered was that he had found her. That they were two pieces of a whole.

Tears slowly slipped down her cheeks, and he gently brushed them away with his thumbs, looking into her eyes, looking into her soul. She felt what he did. They were meant to be together.

“Trust me.”

She leaned toward him, almost as if her body were willing her mind to give that trust. He watched her search his face and knew that he had won. She was his.

With a deep breath, she was about to reveal who she was, but was cut off as he jerked her softly into the shadows.

Someone was coming.