Prologue
He did it. Finally.
Kit raced across the wide field as quickly as his legs could take him, his heart pounding in his chest. It had taken weeks of focus and determination and at last, he could confidently say that he’d managed it all on his own. The small mare he’d left behind whinnied at his back, his instructor calling out to him to slow down before he tripped and fell. But Kit could focus on nothing but the wind rushing past his ears and the back door of Rolington Estate drawing closer.
“Oh, dear Heavens!” a maid exclaimed when he barreled through the door. Sheets and linen flew up into the air at her surprise.
“Forgive me!” he shouted behind him but didn’t stop. He could apologize properly for frightening her later. For now, he needed to find his parents and tell them what he had done.
His footsteps echoed throughout the corridors as he raced towards the parlor his parents liked to spend their free time in. They usually moved between three rooms. The dining room for meals, the parlor for relaxing, and—in the case of his father—the study for work. And his staid parents did not break their routine. There was a time for meals, a time for relaxation, and a time for work. One quick glance at the clock as he raced by told Kit exactly where he needed to go.
The butler was lingering outside the door of the parlor. His bushy brows shot up to his hairline when he spotted Kit racing towards him.
“Young sir,” he said quickly, stepping into Kit’s path before he could race into the room. “What is the hurry?”
“Are my parents inside?” Kit asked breathlessly, even though he knew the answer to that.
“Yes, young sir, but they are preoccupied at the moment. Perhaps you should wait until dinnertime to speak with them?”
Kit frowned at the older man. Dinnertime? That was hours away! He couldn’t hold on to this exciting news for that long.
“I want to see them now,” Kit insisted and tried stepping past the butler. He was caught before he could get through.
“I’m sorry, young sir, but I do not think Lord and Lady Rolington wish to be disturbed.”
Kit groaned in frustration. “I’m their son. I can disturb them if I want.”
He tried going past again but the butler put a firm hand on his shoulder. “The young lord has returned, young sir. I think it would be best if—”
“My brother is back?” Kit cut in. That made it even better! He could tell his news to all of them. His older brother had always looked at him as if Kit was constantly lacking something. Perhaps now he would be worthy of his approval?
Kit didn’t let the butler hold him back this time. He twisted out of his hold and opened the door before the older man could stop him. He rushed into the room—then came to an abrupt halt.
No one noticed his entrance. His parents were sitting near the hearth with his brother in the massive high-backed armchair that was specifically saved for him, his ankles crossed before him and a pleased smile on his face.
He looked more mature than the last time Kit saw him. Granted that was years ago. Kit understood now that his brother had left for university and was not meant to return until it was over. And judging by the broad smiles on his parents’ faces, they could not be happier to see him return.
“Father—”
“Goodness, look at him, Julian,” Kit’s mother gushed, cutting into his attempt to speak. “I cannot believe that my dear son looks so mature! It feels like ages since I have last seen you, Trent.”
“Mother, please,” Trent said, waving off the compliment with a broad smile. “It has been close to three years. It feels like ages for me as well.”
Lady Belinda Roberts, the Countess of Rolington, and the most stoic lady Kit knew, laughed so heartily that Kit couldn’t believe this was the same woman. “And you’ve returned with such high achievements as well! What have I done to deserve such a perfect son like you?”
“Graduating with the highest accolades of all your peers is no small feat, Trent,” said Lord Julian Roberts, the Earl of Rolington. Kit could not believe what he was seeing. He’d never seen his father smile before.
“I knew I had to make you two proud,” Trent said humbly.
“Proud is an understatement,” Belinda gushed. “You are everything a son should be.”
Julian nodded approvingly. “You are a true credit to the Roberts name, my boy. I have no doubt that you will make a fine earl one day.”
They didn’t notice him. Kit knew that he should be within their peripherals, or they should have at least heard him enter, but his parents were so consumed by their eldest son and heir that no one cared to pay him any mind.
Kit turned and left the room. He felt the weight of the butler’s eyes on him as he walked away. With pity? Maybe. He supposed he looked really pitiful right now. He didn’t even remember what he wanted to tell them. Something about his horse training, something his father always said was one of the marks of being a proper gentleman.
He continued all the way to the library before sinking into the corner he’d grown so accustomed to accommodating. That small corner of the library was his. Kit didn’t read often, only when he was required to for his studies. But the library had quickly become his sanctuary because it was quiet enough for him to pretend.
To pretend that he had parents who cared about him. To pretend that he wasn’t always living in the shadows of his brother. To pretend that he was happy.
Ten years on this earth and he couldn’t think of a single reason to be happy.
Maybe that was why the butler did not want him to enter the parlor. Or maybe that was the reason the maids paid him more attention than they needed to. Kit didn’t know what it was, nor could he really care about it right now.
His brother was back and the stillness that had come over the house these past few years would be disrupted. His parents would go from not seeing him at all to only seeing Trent.
Tears stung his eyes. Kit pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried this hard but, by the end of it, he vowed never to cry over this again.
Chapter One
Spring, 1814
London
Hazy ceilings and the pungent smell of tobacco and cologne had become Kit’s norm for a while now. He never thought that he would get tired of it. But, as he ran his index finger along the rim of his glass of brandy, taking in the shady and disreputable gentlemen crowding the club they were in, he felt bored.
“She was a vision, I tell you.”
Kit’s lips quirked upwards. He sipped his brandy, keeping his eyes on the door of the club as yet more gentlemen delved into the dark interior. Chatter buzzed around the room, card tables set up in various spots in the open space. He recognized many of these men. Most were like him, useless and uninspired men who went through life seeking pleasure. A lot were men of status and prestige who were looking to escape their responsibilities. All of them came here wanting something. Kit, on the other hand, didn’t know what he wanted anymore.
Despite the deep-set tiredness he felt being here, he could never grow tired of hearing his friend’s escapades. “How so?” Kit asked. “I am not opposed to details.”
James Greycourt’s hearty laughter reached Kit’s ears despite the noise in the club. “A true gentleman never reveals such details about a lady.”
“Then what’s your excuse?” Kit quipped, eyes still roaming over the gentlemen in the club.
“Funny,” James drawled. “All I will say is that I will most definitely be seeing Miss Annabelle again. If she will have me, of course. The last time we saw each other, she was a little afraid that her husband would find out.”
Kit downed the remainder of his brandy. “The baron is a large man, James. And quite adept with his pistol. I will bet all the money I have that you will not survive a duel with him if he were to challenge you.”
“That is half the excitement, is it not?” James reached for his snuff box. The overwhelming smell of tobacco stung Kit’s nose. “He will not find out, though. And, you know me, I will not stay long enough for that to happen.”
Kit did know him very well. He and James had been friends since they were children and had easily grown into this rakish life together. Like Kit, James was the forgotten child of the Viscount of Heathdale. Neither the heir nor any important addition to the family business. James spent his days bedding married or widowed ladies and seeking excitement in every other aspect of his life. Kit did the same too—but lately, he was beginning to wonder if there was more to his life than living as a rake.
“Well,” Kit said, turning to James fully. Even in the darkened corner, his friend’s pale skin and blond hair stood out like a beacon. Physically, they were opposites. Kit’s tanned skin to James’ dark one. Kit’s dark brown curls to James’ straight blond tresses. Kit’s deep green eyes to James’ light blue ones.
“Well?” James probed, raising a brow.
“Another notch in your bedpost is always something to toast to,” Kit said with a broad grin.
James crooked a brow, smirking. “It’s a little hard to toast with an empty glass, don’t you think?”
“I’ve drunk four glasses already. Any more and you will have to throw me over your shoulder to leave.”
“That is not something I am eager to do again any time soon.” James shuddered dramatically, making Kit laugh. He gestured to the men getting up from the cards table nearby. “Care to join them?”
Kit looked where he was pointing. His instant reaction was to shake his head. Once upon a time, gambling and drinking were the only things Kit cared to do. That and flirting with any lady that caught his eye. He didn’t truly understand why the thought of doing it now made him cringe inwardly.
“Come now,” James urged, as if sensing his hesitation. “With everything going on, I’m sure playing a few rounds will help you release your stress.”
Kit considered the thought. ‘Everything going on’ was simply the same thing he’d been suffering from all his life, but at an increased rate. His father, who usually ignored him in favor of his brother, had been criticizing every move Kit made lately. Marriage, participating in the family business, starting a family. The things that Kit had not considered all his life were now being shoved down his throat. But never under the guise of caring for his future. That, at least, had stayed the same. Kit knew that his father was simply tired of Kit’s bad reputation affecting the family name.
His mother still acted as if he did not exist. That, at least, was the same.
Kit was already standing before he’d fully decided on what to do. “Well, what’s the worst that could happen?” he said aloud, even though he knew that there was plenty bad that could come from this. His funds were dwindling, and his life of pleasure already catching up to him. Doing this was certainly not a good idea.
But since when had he ever cared to make good decisions?
***
In hindsight, Kit knew that this was going to happen. It didn’t make the sting of loss any better.
They were back in the darkened corner, with considerably fewer people in the club now. Most people had the good mind to return to their homes now that the hour was late. Kit and James, and a few other stragglers who could not leave the card table, stuck around to stew in their bad decisions.
Kit felt like he was stewing more than most. He’d known that his funds could not take a hit, that he should be warier of his spending since there was no telling when his father would be adding to his allowance. Despite knowing that, he’d placed wager after wager with each game.
At first, it started out well. He’d won the first three wagers with such a clean sweep that he’d earned himself enough to live comfortably for a few more months. And that confidence had led him to make a fourth wager that tore through the rest of his savings with such ease that Kit didn’t know how he was going to go about paying it back.
Another night of bad decisions. Kit took a gulp of his whiskey in the hopes that it would wash away the bitter taste in his mouth.
“That didn’t go as planned,” James mumbled despondently, nursing his own glass of whiskey.
At least Kit could take solace in the fact that he wasn’t the only one suffering. James had made more than enough bad wagers tonight to overshadow Kit’s. The difference was that James’ father would pay off James’ debt if he asked him to, though Kit knew James wouldn’t want to resort to that. Kit had no idea if his father would even glance in his direction.
“I don’t think anyone plans on losing so much money,” Kit responded, draining his glass. His head was already fuzzy. Maybe with a few more drinks, he could forget what he’d done tonight.
“Punch me in the nose, Kit. I deserve it for cajoling you into placing all those wagers.”
Kit laughed, feeling a little delirious. “Then punch me in the jaw for urging you on when I could tell you were making a bad bet.”
James sighed heavily. “I am going to regret drinking this much in the morning. And Mother has asked me to have breakfast with her. She will know what I was doing the night before. God, I can already hear the lecture.”
“Good luck to you, my friend. I shall be spending my morning alone with nothing but a megrim to keep my company.”
“What of Lady Templebury? I know she will be more than happy to keep your company if you ask it.”
Kit was already shaking his head. “I have no wish to spend my time with her.”
“And why not?”
Kit shrugged. “I have grown bored of her, I suppose. She offers nothing to me.”
“A lady with such beauty? What more could you want from her? Her deep and profound opinions on philosophy?”
Kit blurted out a laugh, his head swimming. “There is more to women’s company than what they offer in the bedroom, you know.”
James nodded. From the way his eyes fluttered, Kit knew he was only one more drink away from falling unconscious. “That is true. But such things are found in ladies you wish to marry, not the ones you bed.”
Kit said nothing. He would have easily agreed a few months ago but something had changed in him, something that made him long for more than just quick nights and frivolous relationships.
“Father wants me to marry.”
James forced his eyes open, frowning at him. “Since when?”
“He’s been applying pressure for weeks now,” Kit admitted. “He thinks it is time for me to change my ways and become a respectable man.”
“And, let me guess, it has something to do with your brother Trent, right?”
Kit smiled ruefully. James had never hesitated to voice the resentment Kit felt for his brother. “Doesn’t it always? But I also think he is tired of my reputation clouding that of the family and the earldom.”
“Do you want to marry?”
Kit didn’t know how to answer that. Every time he thought about it, all it did was muddle his thoughts. He couldn’t even begin sorting through them.
“I do not know what I want to do with my life,” Kit admitted at last.
“You’re the second son. They have never given a damn about you before so they shouldn’t now. You don’t have to worry about the earldom or inheriting a legacy. That’s Trent’s job. You’re free to do what you wish with your future.”
Kit knew that to be true. He was not the heir, after all. And the ‘bad’ reputation his father had painted of him was not as damaging as his father wanted him to believe. No one cared about what Kit was doing.
“You’re right,” he agreed at last. “But I don’t want to think about it anymore. Or else the megrim will be coming far quicker than I anticipated.”
James picked up the decanter of whiskey sitting between them. “Shall we finish this off then? It would be quite a waste if we didn’t.”
“Is that a challenge?” Kit asked, raising a brow.
James nodded seriously. “Would you like to place a wager on how quickly we will finish it?”
Terrible idea, Kit thought even as he grinned. Horrible, life-threatening decision.
“Thirty minutes,” he said.
“Ten,” James shot back with an answering grin.
“Challenge accepted.”
Chapter Two
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
Adeline chanted those two words over and over again and still felt her lungs seizing as she drew closer to the door of the ballroom. She’d been past that threshold many times but this time had the weight of anxiety settling on her shoulders.
She’d been gone for too long. It had been close to twenty minutes since she’d excused herself to the restroom in the hopes of escaping for a bit and, if she was gone for any longer, her mother would have something to say about it. Adeline couldn’t be bothered with a lecture on top of everything else she was feeling this evening.
She tried taking that deep breath she’d been chanting about in her head and delved back into the ballroom. Into the thick of the third ball she’d attended this Season.
It was being held in her older sister’s townhouse, a massive and ornate home that sported too many bedchambers and a ballroom that was the envy of the ton. It was all courtesy of Lord Silverdale, the insanely wealthy Earl of Silverdale, and her sister’s husband. Adeline could spot him easily amongst his peers, a well-built man who was the same height as Adeline with the confidence of a man twice his size. He was handsome enough in his own right, twice the age of Adeline’s sister, but kind enough that Adeline overlooked all of that. As long as her sister was happy, Adeline was too.
Adeline quickly found a corner behind a potted plant, scanning the room for the rest of her family. The good news was that she had no more names on her dance card so she was not expected to take part in the set occurring right now. The bad news was that she could only get a few minutes of silence before her mother found her again, dragging some poor soul over to Adeline and all but forcing an introduction and an invitation to dance.
She didn’t see her mother or father anywhere but her sister came into view. Adeline watched as Lavinia went up to her husband’s side, bending her head to whisper something to him. He frowned and shook his head. Lavinia looked concerned at his response but flashed a smile at the earl’s peers before she drifted away, clearly in search of something. Probably in search of her-Adeline.
As if she sensed the direction of Adeline’s thoughts, Lavinia spotted her hiding in the corner. Relief flooded her eyes as she made her way over.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” Lavinia asked.
“Hiding,” Adeline answered honestly. With her older sister, she didn’t feel the need to pretend.
Lavinia’s eyes softened. She’d changed over the past four years, Adeline realized. Before her marriage to the earl, Lavinia had seemed youthful and full of life. Now, she was the very picture of a perfect lady living a perfect life. To the ton, she was a beautiful lady with a wealthy husband who adored her. The kind of lady who had lavish parties every Season, had many friends, and would one day have an heir or two to carry on the bloodline. Lavinia Cavendish nee Beauchamp was everything a lady should aspire to be.
To Adeline, she was still just her fiercely overprotective sister who knew what Adeline was saying without her having to speak the words aloud.
“Hiding won’t help,” Lavinia said wisely. “You’re better off just feigning sickness and leaving altogether.”
Adeline raised a brow at her. “Do you think Mother will believe me?”
“Not likely,” Lavinia said without a second of hesitation. “But it is worth trying.”
“Shouldn’t you be convincing me to keep my chin up and survive until the end of the night? This is my second Season, after all. I should be mingling with others and looking for a suitor.”
“You should be,” Lavinia agreed without hesitation. “But this is the third ball you have attended since the start of the week. I understand that you’re tired. I know how difficult it had been when I had my first Season.”
Adeline doubted it. She’d watched Lavinia navigate her first and only Season as an unmarried lady with such perfect poise and ease that it was no wonder she’d secured a marriage so quickly. But she didn’t say that.
“It doesn’t matter,” Adeline sighed. “Mother will find me soon enough and I shall be forced back into the fray.”
“Do you want me to distract her then? It may give you a few more minutes of peace.”
Adeline smiled, touched by her sister’s attempt. “If you’re away from George’s side for too long, he will come looking for you.”
Lavinia waved her off. But Adeline didn’t miss the pleasure that touched Lavinia’s eyes. “He will be fine. My sister comes first right now.”
And that was the reason she was doing any of this at all. Hope. Watching the happiness that seeped into Lavinia and George’s eyes whenever they looked at each other—or even spoke about the other—told her that true love still existed. They were an unlikely couple. Despite George’s immense wealth, he was not the handsome gentleman many ladies would fawn over. And yet Lavinia looked at him as if he was perfect. He looked at her—rightfully—as if she was an angel. Adeline wanted that for herself. She clung to the hope that she would be able to find true love among gentlemen who saw marriage as a means to an end.
That being said, she wasn’t particularly fond of the process. She was dying to return home and lock herself in her bedchamber. With three good romance novels, she wouldn’t have to leave for days.
“Incoming,” Lavinia warned. And Adeline braced herself. A second later, she saw her mother cutting through the crowd with a tall gentleman right on her heels.
“Stay please,” Adeline whispered hastily. “I cannot do this by myself.”
“You will be fine,” Lavinia told her with a bright smile. “I shall be right over here if you need me.”
“Lavinia!” Adeline hissed but her sister was already disappearing, waggling her fingers in farewell.
Adeline tucked her tongue in her cheek and forced her face into a pleasant expression, even if she couldn’t really manage a smile right now.
“Adeline! I have been looking everywhere for you!” Lady Victoria Beauchamp, the Duchess of Beauwood, caught the wrist of the man behind her and skillfully pulled him to her side. “Allow me to introduce you to—”
“Adeline Beauchamp,” Adeline cut in, eyes focused on the tall man. He was plain-looking, sparking no attraction or interest in her.
He blinked, clearly taken aback by her quick response. “O-oh, I am Lord Harold Jameson, son of the Duke of Wornshire.”
“It is lovely to meet you, Lord Harold,” Adeline went on before her mother got the chance to recover from her surprise. “Here is my dance card.”
Adeline slipped the card from her wrist and handed it to him. Lord Harold seemed too taken aback to do anything but go along with her. He took the card and scribbled his name. The moment it was in her possession again, Adeline slipped it back onto her wrist and sank into a curtsy. “It was nice meeting you, my lord.”
And then she turned and walked away.
She made it three whole steps before her mother was by her side again, hissing in her ear. “Are you out of your mind, Adeline?”
“Did I do something wrong?” Adeline asked. Her steps were sure, heading to the refreshments table on the other side of the ballroom simply because she needed a destination and it took her away from Lord Harold.
“You know quite well that you did. I brought Lord Harold to you to foster a relationship. You were far too short with him. Now he might think that you are not interested in him.”
She arrived at the refreshments table too quickly. Adeline stopped by the wall and faced the middle of the room where dancers moved in unison to the music. She glanced at her mother, taking in the distressed pinch of her brows. Victoria was still quite beautiful. Lavinia had inherited their mother’s dark brown curls, heart-shaped face, and beautiful green eyes. Adeline, on the other hand, looked like neither her mother nor her father. She closely resembled a distant aunt she’d met once, however, with long blond tresses, a tall and slender figure, and bright blue eyes.
For a long time, Adeline wondered if it meant that she was not truly related to her parents, even though she did not like to consider what that would mean about their marriage. Now she knew that she was truly her parents’ child in the ways that mattered. Right now, the stubbornness she’d inherited from her mother was coming out to play.
“I don’t think he would get that impression, Mother,” Adeline countered. “On the contrary, he will think that I am quite interested in him, seeing that I was so eager to have his name on my dance card.”
“Oh, goodness, you were just trying to get rid of him,” Victoria countered. “You are not fooling anyone.”
“Think of it this way, Mother. I will have more than enough opportunity to get to know him during my dance. Surely that should satisfy you.”
Victoria sighed as if the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. “I didn’t have this difficult a time with Lavinia,” she murmured.
Adeline bristled and tried not to show it. “In case you have not realised it, Mother, I am nothing like Lavinia.”
“I can see that.”
Adeline thinned her lips. She’d never minded being compared to her sister. Lavinia was who she was and Adeline had accepted that she would be nothing like her. While Lavinia was the dark-haired beauty who emanated grace and poise, the perfect lady, Adeline was the fair-haired lady who idealized the thought of falling in love, spurred on by the romance novels she read, yet stayed away from interacting with others. Adeline was confident enough in herself to not care when others whispered about her and the fact that she was in her second Season without any suitable marriage candidates. But hearing it from her mother had always rubbed her the wrong way.
Adeline turned to the table, intending to get a glass of lemonade as a distraction from the irritation growing within her. She didn’t see the servant who had stepped up to the table with more refreshments.
Glasses of wine went crashing to the floor. The sound was enough to make everyone in the immediate vicinity look up at them. The footman was bubbling apologies and Adeline’s own stuck in her throat as her face went hot with embarrassment. She felt the weight of everyone watching her. Then seconds later, right on cue, she heard their whispers.
“Adeline!” Her mother’s hiss only deepened her embarrassment. “What am I going to do with you?”
“It was an accident,” Adeline tried to explain but she knew it would fall on deaf ears.
“You cannot afford to make such accidents in public.” Victoria’s hand wrapped around Adeline’s upper arm like a vice, steering her away from the mess she’d caused. “I thought you would have grown out of your clumsiness by now. Do try to remember that your father and I want you to make a good match this Season and it will not happen if you keep bumping into everyone you see.”
“I know, Mother,” Adeline sighed. “A grand match. A perfect match. A wonderful match.”
“Mimic me all you want but it will not change my plans for you. Have you gotten anything on your dress?”
Adeline glanced down at herself. Thankfully, the wine had not touched her. Though, perhaps if it had, she would have had an excuse to leave early. Adeline knew that Victoria would not risk her walking around with red wine staining her dress for the rest of the night.
“Mother, she is fine.” Like her saving grace, Lavinia swept between them, taking Adeline by the arm. “And you needn’t worry. I doubted many noticed what happened.”
“Just one person noticing is enough to be damaging one’s reputation,” Victoria protested. “Especially since Adeline is already known for being clumsy.”
“Then no one will care about such boring gossip, if she is already known for it,” Lavinia reasoned.
“There’s no need to defend her, Lavinia.”
“I am not,” Lavinia said easily. “Did you know that Lady Katherine has been looking for you? I think she wants to apologise for what happened.”
Adeline hid her smile. She’d not yet learned how to divert her mother’s attention as skillfully as Lavinia could. Just like that, Victoria forgot about the small incident, latching on to the tidbit of gossip Lavinia offered.
“She does?” Victoria asked as she looked around the room. “Where is she? I have not seen her all night.”
“She is on the other side of the ballroom. Would you like me to take you to her?”
“Yes, yes, show the way. It is high time we spoke about what happened.”
Adeline hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. She wasn’t as close to her mother as Lavinia was. She didn’t really care either. She just gave her sister a grateful smile as Lavinia took Victoria by the arm and led her away, leaving her blissfully alone.
That only lasted a minute before she was joined by the other half of her frustration. Her father had a habit of sneaking up on her, so Adeline had to bite her tongue to keep from yelping in surprise.
“Adeline,” Lord Reginald, the Duke of Beauwood said. “There is someone I want you to meet.”
“Father, I—”
Adeline didn’t get a chance to voice her protest when a middle-aged man stepped up to her. Without warning, he took Adeline’s hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it.
“She is as beautiful as you expressed, Reginald,” the man said.
Disgust skittered up Adeline’s spine. It took every bit of her strength to pull her hand from his grasp. “It is lovely to meet you, sir,” she managed to say.
“Lord Bertram Jones, my lady. I have heard much about you.”
Adeline glanced helplessly at her father. The man before her must have been her father’s age but, unlike Reginald, he was graying at the temples and had deep wrinkles lining his brow. Then again, her father was quite handsome for a man with two children and the responsibility of a duke on his shoulders.
“Lord Bertram made it no secret that he wished to be introduced to you,” Reginald explained, eyes glinting with happiness. “And I believe he wishes to ask you to dance as well?”
“Oh, well, I already have someone for—”
“Nonsense, my lady,” Lord Bertram cut in. He still had not let go of her hand. Any longer and it would become improper. “I’m sure whoever it is will understand that you found a better dance partner. We can explain that to him then.”
“I do not think that is proper, my lord—”
“I shall explain it myself then,” Lord Bertram stated. He spoke a tad louder than necessary, which annoyed Adeline. He finally let go of her hand. “The next set is about to begin. Shall we?”
Another protest was on the tip of her tongue. But, Adeline caught the expectant look on her father’s face and knew that she would not hear the end of it if she rejected Lord Bertram right now. She would just have to weather Lord Harold’s vexation later.
She barely lowered her head into a nod before Lord Bertram was taking her hand again and tucked her arm through his. He patted the back of her hand in what she guessed was to be a comforting gesture but it only heightened her disgust. It took all her strength to keep it from showing on her face.
To her dismay, the next set was a waltz. She tried not to sigh when Lord Bertram pulled her close to him, settling a hand on the small of her back.
“To be honest, my lady, I have been wanting to meet you all evening,” he expressed the moment the dance began.
Adeline winced when he stepped on her toes. Had he pressured her into dancing when he didn’t even know how to do it properly?
“I am flattered, my lord,” she said politely.
“You should be. I only pay attention to ladies of beauty. And you, my fair lady, have outshone everyone in attendance.”
“Your words are kind, my lord.”
“And I have been observing you for a while. That small mishap with the footman and the glasses of wine is not something that will be tolerated in the future, once we are wed.”
She jerked in shock. Perhaps that threw him off because he stepped on her toes again and didn’t utter a single apology. “Wed, my lord? I hardly know you.”
“For now,” he persisted. “But that will change during our courtship.”
“You are quite…bold, my lord,” she said because that was the only thing she could think to say without damaging his inflated ego. Though she would certainly take some pleasure in taking him down a few notches.
He nodded. “In time, you will get used to it. We will be good together, my lady. But I must tell you of the expectations I have for my next wife.”
“Next wife? You were married before?”
“She passed due to fever six months ago.”
“And you are already searching for another?”
“She passed before she could bear an heir for me. I am a man with needs, you see. And I need an heir. You will suit the role perfectly.”
If she didn’t have a good handle on her stomach, she would have vomited all over his shoes at that comment.
“As I was saying, Lady Adeline, there are some expectations I have of you as my future wife. You must keep yourself put together at all times and must always remain by my side when we are in public. I expect you to share my bed at least four times a week—”
“My lord, I do not think that is an appropriate conversation to be having with a lady you’ve only just met,” Adeline stated. She kept her gaze fixed over his shoulder, even when he made a show of pulling back slightly to look at her.
“Ah, a demure lady after my own heart. I think I am falling in love with you, my lady.”
Was that an attempt at flirting? Adeline’s stomach churned uneasily. She didn’t grace that with a response, no longer caring to remain polite.
Lord Bertram clearly did not need to hear her responses to continue speaking. He went on about the kind of wife he expected her to be, though he didn’t mention her bedroom duties again. She tried to ignore him, counting the seconds until the set was over.
The moment it was, she took a large step back, curtsied, and said, “It was nice meeting you, my lord.”
Lied right through her teeth.
Adeline turned and made her way back to the corner where Lavinia had found her before. She brought a chair with her, sat, and hoped that no one would notice her for the rest of the night.
***
For a few blissful minutes, the carriage ride over the cobblestone streets of London was quiet. It gave Adeline the chance to breathe quiet prayers of relief that she’d made it through the ball without any more irritating encounters with unsavory gentlemen.
That peace was broken when her mother said, “I think Lord Harold is quite nice, don’t you think? Even though you offended him by dancing with someone else during the set you should have saved for him, Adeline.”
Adeline kept her eyes out the window, thinking about what to say to keep the impending lecture at bay.
“Lord Harold?” Reginald spoke up before Adeline could think of anything. “No, no. He is far too meek. That kind of man would not suit Adeline. Lord Bertram is a better match.”
“Lord Bertram?” Adeline didn’t have to look to know her mother’s nose was wrinkled in disapproval. “That gentleman is far too old and unkind to marry our Adeline. Lord Harold, on the other hand, is young, handsome, and full of potential. Well…handsome enough.”
“Lord Bertram already has many accomplishments under his belt. Adeline would not do with a man who has potential.”
“Very well, perhaps not Lord Harold then. But I certainly do not like Lord Bertram.”
That, at least, they could agree on.
But Reginald was adamant. “You have not given him a chance. And of all the men Adeline met tonight, he was the most persistent. You must respect a man who goes after what he wants. Not to mention the fact that he is rather wealthy.”
“Wealth can be found in other places, Reginald.”
Adeline stopped listening. They would go on about this all the way home and she was smart enough to know that her opinion hardly mattered, even though they were discussing her future. A future she wanted full of happiness and romance, not hidden agendas.
It didn’t matter. Her future was not her own. That became even clearer now that it was her second Season. Now that her parents were growing a little more desperate to have her marry. She wanted to take charge of her own future. But the strength welling inside her died every time she tried to voice it.
She knew very well if she let this continue, the path forged for her would be hard trodden. If she didn’t stop herself from being forced upon it, Adeline just might end up living the horrible nightmare she was trying desperately to avoid.
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I liked it so far. I will read it when it comes out.