Prologue

“I do not think that is quite correct, Father.” Tabitha glanced at him and then lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “I do not mean to correct you, of course, but I am sure that the speed of printing exceeds over a thousand pages in an hour.”

Her father, the Earl of Dunoon, blinked back at her. “I…I beg your pardon?”

“I read of it recently,” Tabitha answered, as her sister, Prudence, looked back at her with her mouth agape. “It was around two hundred an hour before, I believe. Now, however, this method of steam printing has multiplied the rate to over a thousand! That is quite exceptional, is it not?” She looked around at the table, seeing her brother and his wife gazing at her with astonishment in their eyes. Her father was beginning to turn red, her mother looking down at the plate of food before her whilst Prudence still had her mouth open. 

Tabitha swallowed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You… you are a bluestocking?” Her brother, Thomas, glanced first at his mother and then at his father. “Do you mean to say, Father, that you have permitted my sister to become so? I am most astonished, I must say.”

A thump of her father’s fist onto the table made Tabitha start in surprise, then flushed red as he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“I did not realise just how much you were reading, Tabitha. This cannot go on!”

Her heart leapt up in fright. “I am not doing wrong! I am only reading the books in your library. There can be nothing whatsoever wrong with that.”

“Oh yes, there can be a good deal wrong with that,” her father responded, angrily. “I will not have my daughter called a bluestocking. Do you know the shame that would bring to this family? Do you know how few gentlemen would even think to consider you?”

Tabitha dropped her head, her eyes filling with tears. She had made her come out earlier this year and all had gone well. Her father and mother had been pleased with her, telling her that she would be able to make a good match the following year without any difficulty whatsoever. Was this now all to be thrown aside just because she had discovered a recent love for reading and learning?

“You cannot continue to learn as you have been doing, Tabitha.” Her brother, who had no right to speak to her in such a commanding tone, sniffed and shook his head. “Young ladies ought not to know about such things as steam printing and the like.”

“Why ever not?” Tabitha asked, her voice trembling as a flurry of emotions overtook her. Her love for reading had begun in London, when she had stepped into one of the largest bookshops in all of England, taken there by a good friend, Lady Helena. Looking all about her, she had been overwhelmed by just how much there was there for her to learn and understand. That had not dissuaded her, however. She had picked up one book and then another and from there, an insatiable desire to read as much as she could had taken hold. It had opened up a new world to her, one where she could step into another land and near enough see the creatures and the landscape there. It was one where she could understand why the steam press was so vitally important and how that in itself was changing the world around her. To have that taken away was too dreadful a thought to consider!

“Because it is not expected of young ladies, that is why.” The Earl drew himself up in his seat, sitting with his shoulders pulled back and head held high as if to remind her of his authority. “You are not to touch another book unless it is either poetry or some mindless novel. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Tabitha opened her mouth to argue but caught the glint in her father’s eye, telling her that the steel in his gaze was also reflected in his decisions. No matter what she said, there would be no changing his mind. Her gaze flicked to her mother who was sitting quietly, her hands in her lap but her eyes still on the plate before her. She had not said a word and Tabitha did not know whether or not that meant she agreed with the Earl or if she was simply keeping her own counsel so as not to upset him. 

“Do I make myself clear, Tabitha?”

Her eyes flooded with tears but she could only nod, knowing that there was nothing for her to say or to argue with. Her father had made his decision and that meant, she would not be able to continue on as she had done.

“You want to make a good match, do you not?” Prudence asked, as Tabitha fought to hold her tears back. “A gentleman of the ton will never look at a bluestocking, you can be sure of that!”

Her heart sank as Tabitha picked up her spoon and began to try and eat her dessert. Prudence would not understand. She was not at all inclined towards reading and the like, preferring to embroider or paint – both of which were acceptable pastimes for any young lady. Tabitha had never been exceptional at either hobby and found embroidery very dull indeed, which was why reading had taken such a hold of her. Now to have all that stolen away from her simply because her father demanded it was galling indeed. 

“My man of business was telling me that there are some investment opportunities I should consider,” her brother began, changing the conversation entirely. “Would you be interested in hearing them?”

As the conversation went on, a conversation that neither she, her mother, sister in law or Prudence could join in with, Tabitha’s heart began to grow stubborn. Once the wave of pain and shock had begun to draw back, she was left with a determination to ignore what had been directed and do just as she wished. She would not let her father take her love of reading from her! Why should she? There was no real reason for him to do so, aside from the fact that he thought it unsuitable. Well aware that society thought poorly of bluestockings, Tabitha determined that if she was to keep it a secret from her family, then she could do the same with society. No-one would have to know that she was more learned than a young lady ought to be, would they? Even if she were to make a good match, her husband, whoever he might be, would not have to know of her passion. 

That is precisely what I shall do, Tabitha told herself, eating her dessert with a little more relish now. Whether I am forbidden or not, I will do whatever I can to make sure I continue to read. Her heart lifted and she smiled to herself. One way or another, she would not be held back from something that brought her so much joy. She was determined.

***

 Sneaking a book into her basket, Tabitha covered it quickly with a cloth and then walked immediately out of the library. She did not hesitate but continued on down the staircase, making her way directly to the front door of the manor house.

“Tabitha? Is that you?”

She stopped short, turning to look up at her mother who was now standing at the stop of the staircase. “Yes, it is. Good morning to you.”

“I did not see you break your fast.” With a small frown flickering across her forehead, the Countess of Dunoon began to descend. “Are you going out into the gardens so early? The weather does not look to be particularly warm and you are not wearing your bonnet!”

Tabitha’s heart began to pound as her mother drew closer, afraid that she would see the cloth in the basket and might guess as to what Tabitha was doing. “No, I am not but I do not think that I need it today. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, as you have already noted yourself.”

The Countess came directly towards Tabitha, her eyes holding fast to hers as Tabitha herself then fought to keep her expression calm and nonchalant. She had risen early in the hope of making her way to the gardens and finding herself a quiet space in which to read and now she feared her mother might put an end to all such plans. She might also have to face the consequences of her disobedience from her father, should he be told of it. 

“Do you wish to join me?” Tabitha asked, as her mother continued to look at her shrewdly. “I thought to go and pick some berries.”

“We have servants to do that.”

Tabitha laughed in what she hoped was a light manner. “I am well aware of that, Mama, but I am quite contented to wander through the grounds and do the same myself. There is something quite lovely about doing so in the autumn time.”

“You should be wearing something warmer.” The Countess put a hand on Tabitha’s arm. “The wind is cold and…”

“I shall be quite all right. And if I become chilled, then I will return home at once, you need have no concern.”

Her mother held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed, smiled and stepped away. “You are so very different to your siblings. I do not think I know what to make of you sometimes!”

Tabitha recoiled inwardly, seeing the smile on her mother’s face and yet feeling the words striking at her, hard. Choosing not to continue on the conversation, one which had been discussed many times in the past, Tabitha gave her a nod and then turned to the door. 

Whilst there was relief in her heart that she had managed to make her way out of doors with the book in her basket, Tabitha’s heart ached with the pain of her mother’s words. Fully aware that she was very different in comparison to her elder brother Thomas and her elder sister, Prudence, Tabitha had never felt herself less than them in any way. Not until very recently. With a heavy heart, she stepped out into the fresh air, waiting for it to bring her the joy she usually felt, only for her heart to begin to weigh her down so heavily, she had nothing but sorrow there instead. Her shoulders rounding, she made her way along the path towards the edge of the estate, where she would come to a forest, one which she knew well. It had been something of a solace for her of late, somewhere she might go in order to find herself comforted by the solitude and the quiet it brought to her thoughts. 

Her lips twisted as her head lowered when she meandered slowly along the path and her book was forgotten. It had been near to a month ago when her father had declared that she had been reading far too much and could not be a bluestocking for fear of shaming herself and her family but Tabitha had not given up. Rising early or staying awake very late indeed had been her solution to sneak books out of the house and to read them either in the arbor or in the stables. It was getting colder now and Tabitha was not at all certain how she would continue reading when she had nowhere private to go. The manor house was certainly large but that did not mean that she would be able to find a place where she could not be disturbed. 

I know I am not the same as Prudence but that does not mean I am without worth. Her throat constricted as tears began to threaten but she pushed them back without too much difficulty. Tabitha had always been aware of just how different she and Prudence had been. Prudence had always been a good deal more confident within society, had always been eager to laugh and dance and smile whilst Tabitha found herself to be a little more restrained. Prudence sang beautifully and during their Season, had often been called upon to entertain whilst Tabitha sat and listened only. Prudence was the one who had shone like a diamond of the first water, with Tabitha trailing after her. It was not as if Tabitha wanted to be just like Prudence but what she did want was for her hobbies and enjoyments not to be dismissed without thought. It seemed that this, however, was to be inevitable. 

Making her way into the forest, Tabitha took the familiar path to the large tree in the center where she usually sat. There was a large enough hole within the tree itself for her to sit in, should it begin to rain or if the wind was too wild and there, Tabitha was sure, she would find her solace. 

“I shall also have to pick a few blackberries,” she reminded herself aloud. “Mother will be expecting them.”

Sighing to herself, Tabitha rounded the path, expecting to see the tree and nothing more, only for an unexpected sight to make her gasp in fright. Two gentlemen were there, with one having the other pinned to the tree with one arm, his other arm raised in a fist. As she watched, it slammed into the gentleman’s face, making her wince as the fellow cried out in pain. 

“You have ruined me!” she heard the first gentleman cry aloud, the second gentleman seemingly desperate to break free as he writhed. “How could you do such a thing?”

“It was not my doing, truly!”

The first gentleman rose his fist in the air again and Tabitha, unable to help herself, rushed forward. “Stop!”

Her voice had not only the first gentleman turning to look at her but the second able then to escape. Pushing the first gentleman back, he slipped out from under his arm and before Tabitha could say a word, he had rushed away from them both. 

Breathing hard, Tabitha stared into the eyes of the gentleman before her. He was in his shirtsleeves, his waistcoat open and swinging lightly as he moved. A shock of dark hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead. There was anger in his gaze, his blue eyes dark, his eyebrows furrowing as he advanced towards her. 

Letting out a squeak of fright, Tabitha turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could, back along the path that led home. Her basket and book quite forgotten and left in the forest. Whatever had she just witnessed? And just who was that dark haired gentleman?

Chapter One

A year later

“Is this not wonderful news?”

Tabitha tried to smile as her mother grasped her hands. “Yes, it is, truly.”

“I did not imagine that Prudence would be betrothed so soon after returning to London! We have been here only a fortnight and now she is betrothed!”

“It is wonderful,” Tabitha agreed, as her mother let out a squeal of excitement. “Now, are we to remain indoors for the rest of the afternoon? There will be many coming to call, I am sure.” In asking this question, Tabitha hoped that her mother might permit her to escape from such an afternoon, thinking that it would be only she and Prudence welcoming the callers. That way, she would be able to either make her way to the bookshop with her maid in tow or, perhaps, sneak into the library and find something new to read. Her father had come to join them in London for the Season but was caught up in some business matters; the investments Thomas had encouraged him to consider the previous year. That meant, he was not often at home at present and Tabitha wanted very much to use his absence to her own advantage.

“Indeed, yes, there will be many!” Lady Dunoon exclaimed, her eyes wide. “We cannot possibly think to step out, not when news of her betrothal to the Marquess will already be spreading through London.”

“And you will not need me present, I think?” Tabitha waited for her mother to answer but the Countess was already hurrying away from her, crossing the room so that she might ring the bell. Muttering something about having the room prepared for the callers, the Countess did not even look back at Tabitha. Hiding a smile, Tabitha made her way to the door and slipped out, only to come upon her sister in the hallway.

“Mother is in the drawing room,” Tabitha directed, as Prudence smiled, holding herself with a confidence that Tabitha had always lacked. “I think she is waiting for you. She expects many callers this afternoon.”

“Of course there will be!” Prudence laughed, making Tabitha’s smile fade. “It is not very often that a young lady becomes betrothed so soon to the beginning of the Season!”

The pride in Prudence’s voice gave Tabitha pause but, thinking better of it, she said nothing. If her sister wished to relish this moment, then Tabitha had no hesitation in permitting her to do so. She was right, it was certainly unusual for young ladies to be betrothed so soon and the Marquess of Devon was a gentleman known to many in society. He was wealthy with a good standing in society and Tabitha had learned, thanks to her mother’s whispers, that he had been pursued by many a young lady for the last few years. To now have him betrothed was something that would capture society’s interest and no doubt, there would be much talk of this for many a day.

“You shall have to be contented to wait for this excitement to pass before you consider your own standing, Tabitha. I hope you are aware of that.”

Tabitha said nothing, frowning at her sister who patted her shoulder in an almost motherly way. 

“The focus shall be solely upon me and my betrothal for some time,” Prudence continued, her smile near proud now. “There will be much to arrange as well. Indeed, you may have to wait until next Season to find a suitable match!”

“We shall see.” Stepping away from her, Tabitha made her way directly back towards her bedchamber, her cheeks stinging with a mixture of anger and upset over Prudence’s remarks. Yes, she knew that there was much to arrange and surely, the ton would be speaking of this betrothal for some time but that did not mean that she would be entirely ignored… did it? Her eyes closed as she shut the door to her bedchamber, leaning back against it as a sigh escaped her. It would be no surprise to her if she was forgotten, she supposed. Prudence had always been at the fore and now, would be so all the more until she was married. That could happen very soon, however, Tabitha considered. The banns could be called next week and then, in less than a month, the wedding could take place.

“It will take longer than that,” she admitted to herself, aloud. “There will need to be more than just the banns called.” Wincing, she shook her head and then moved away from the door, eager now to step out of the house and make her way to the bookshop. One thing that brought her some happiness was the fact that, with Prudence so caught up with her betrothal and with all of her mother and father’s attention and time being placed upon her, it meant that Tabitha herself would not be noticed. Her father might not notice when she stepped out or when she was absent. He might not care as to what she was doing, which meant she might then be free to read just as she pleased. That was a blessing, at least.

“I am to take a hackney,” she told her maid. “You will join me as my chaperone, Sarah. Do be quick about it, now.”

Sarah, her lady’s maid, gave Tabitha a smile. “Are we to go to the bookshop, my lady?”

“Hush.” Tabitha glanced at the door and then back to her maid. “I do hope that my trust in you has not been broken, Sarah?”

The smile on the maid’s face shattered in an instant. “No, indeed not, my lady. I have not told a soul about your reading, I swear it. Not even to Bessie, and she is my closest friend!”

Tabitha paused, then let herself smile. It was best, she considered, to remind her maid that there was a good deal at stake here. She had been forced to take Sarah into her confidence over the winter, for it had been too cold to read in the arbor or in the stables and thus, Sarah had been used as a guard. Whenever Tabitha had been reading, Sarah had been stationed at the door, watching and listening in case her father, mother or sister came in search of her. “That is good. Come then, I should like to go as quickly as can be.” The last thing she desired was that her mother should discern her absence, lest she insist that Tabitha attend upon Prudence.

 “And yes, we are to go to the bookshop!”

This made her maid’s smile return and a smile spread across Tabitha’s face as she found her bonnet and gloves, eager now to step out and make her way to where she felt most at home.

***

“There, now.” Tabitha set the book back in its place and meandered along the shelf a little more, wondering if she would be able to find another book on plants and the health benefits, or poisons, that could be derived from them. It was a fascinating subject and one that Tabitha was now eager to learn more about. The book she had just returned, however, was one that she had already read previously. 

“Tabitha?”

She turned, her heart leaping up into her throat in fright, fearing that it was Prudence or her mother calling her.

“Tabitha, it is you!”

Her eyes flared wide, her heart leaping up with delight as Tabitha threw her arms around Helena, overjoyed to see her friend again. “Helena! I did not know that you would be present here this Season! You are already wed so what need have you to come to the marriage mart?”

Helena chuckled, her hand still on Tabitha’s arm. “My husband is desperate to do all that he can to please me, so when I told him that I missed you and should very much like to come to London to see you, he was more than willing to do so!”

Tabitha put one hand to her heart. “That is so very kind of you, Helena.” A tightness came into her throat which she tried to push away just as quickly. “I am very glad to see you.”

Her friend’s smile faded. “You are sad.”

“No, not in the least.” A kick to Tabitha’s stomach made her wince. “Very well, I suppose I am somewhat sorrowful but it is not for the reasons you might think. I am not despondent over my lack of success with the gentlemen of London or the like.”

“Then what is it?”

Tabitha closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “My sister is betrothed.”

“How wonderful! That is very soon after your arrival in London, is it not?”

Opening her eyes, Tabitha nodded. “Yes, it is only a fortnight since our arrival. The Marquess of Devon was quite taken with her, it seems and…”

“The Marquess of Devon?” Helena interrupted, her fingers tightening on Tabitha’s arm. “She is to marry him?”

“Yes.”

“The unreachable Marquess, or so he has been named.” Helena’s lips curved in a smile. “You cannot be sad about that, I am sure.”

Tabitha shook her head. “No, not at all. However, the way that all attention will turn towards Prudence and the like, whilst understandable, means that my chances of a match are significantly lower. I will have to wait until next Season, or so Prudence says.”

Helena’s eyes softened. “I see.”

“I was hopeful of making a match this Season,” Tabitha continued, with a small sigh. “I want to step out of my father’s house and into my own, to be mistress of my own household. But I fear I may be denied that still.”

“I am sorry.” Helena put one arm around her shoulders as they began to walk together along the bookshop floor. “That must be difficult indeed, though it may not be as hopeless as you think.” She looked sidelong at Tabitha. “You are not hoping for a love match, are you?”

Tabitha snorted. “No, not at all. My father is already fearful that the ton might recognize that I am too much of a bluestocking for their liking.” Seeing Helena smile, Tabitha’s heart lifted just a little, relieved that her friend understood. “He has demanded that I stop reading anything aside from poetry. Or the occasional novel but I find them to be rather dull, I confess.”

“Goodness, that is a strict measure to put in place!” Helena stopped walking, reaching to pick up a book that had caught her interest. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Because I was too learned for his liking.” Tabitha made a face as Helena rolled her eyes. “Bluestockings are not particularly sought after by gentlemen of the ton, as I am sure you know.”

Helena tutted her displeasure.

“I was sure that there would be some gentleman somewhere who would be willing to consider me, even with all of my learning,” Tabitha continued, stopping now to take out a book off the shelf. “My father did not agree, however. Therefore, I am not to read anything of interest.”

“And has that stopped you?”

With a grin, Tabitha caught the glimmer of laughter in Helena’s eye. “Indeed it has not. I have found ways to read just what I please. My maid has been taken into my confidence and has proven herself very trustworthy indeed.”

“That is good.” 

“There was one moment when I feared I would be discovered some time ago,” Tabitha told her, turning over the pages of the book in her hand. “I was out walking in the woods near to my father’s estate, for it was one of the places I went to read. Whilst walking there, I came across two gentlemen having a heated encounter. I was utterly shocked, as you might imagine, and when one began to come towards me, I turned on my heel and ran… and left my basket and my book behind me.” When Helena’s eyes rounded, Tabitha nodded as if to confirm that this was precisely what had happened. “A stable boy found the basket and the book and was on his way to return it to the house. Had I not been walking to the stables at the time, I am sure my father would have heard of it.”

“And would have been most displeased.”

“As would my brother have been, for he has also been almost angry at the thought of my being a bluestocking. Even though his estate is near two days ride from my father’s, he will still involve himself in the smallest matters.”

Her friend pouted. “That is most disagreeable for you… and trying, I am sure.”

“It has been difficult.” Tabitha pushed back against the lump in her throat. “You are here now, however, and I am very grateful for that. It will bring me great joy to have you here in London!”

“And I can chaperone you also,” Helena reminded her, as Tabitha snatched in a breath of joy. “I am a married lady and, if your mother wishes to put all of her time and effort into Prudence’s upcoming marriage, then I can very easily go with you wherever you might wish to go.”

Filled with joy, the lump in Tabitha’s throat faded to nothing as, in only a moment, the Season stretched out before her with a great deal more happiness than it had previously. She would have her friend beside her, able to then go wherever she might wish without her mother or father’s concern. Perhaps she might even be able to make a match of her own after all! “That is wonderful. I shall inform my mother of it the moment I return home. Mayhap she will be relieved that she does not have to stand beside me and can concentrate instead upon Prudence!” She laughed softly, only for a loud voice to break into their conversation. 

“If you might excuse me? I have been standing here for some minutes and neither of you ladies have made room.”

A gasp broke from her lips as she stepped back at once, twisting around to look at the gentleman behind her. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a dark countenance given the scowl that pulled at his expression. The edge of his lip was curled in either disdain or frustration, his blue eyes tinged with shadows. Without a word of appreciation or acknowledgement, he moved past them both. Helena kept her gaze trained upon him but Tabitha, her breath swirling in her chest, kept her gaze down low. There had been that single moment of recognition when she had caught his gaze although she could not tell whether or not he recognized her. 

“A very rude fellow indeed!” Helena exclaimed, loudly enough for the gentleman to hear although he did not either respond or turn his head to glance at them. “All he had to do was clear his throat politely and we would have noticed him.”

“Do you know who that was?” Tabitha asked, her chest heaving with quick, unsteady breaths. “Are you acquainted with him?”

Helena looked back at her, puzzled. “No, I do not. Goodness, I did not think that you would be so affected by him, are you quite all right? He was very rude, I quite agree, but…”

“That was the gentleman I came across in the woods,” Tabitha told her, dropping her voice low so that the gentleman would not be able to hear her, even though by now he was very far away. “Recall what I just told you? I came upon two gentlemen fighting and he was the fellow with one arm against the other’s throat. He laid on him a rain of blows to the face, which is when I cried out. That was the reason the other fellow escaped.” Swallowing thickly, she closed her eyes for a moment to gather herself. “That gentleman advanced upon me and which then, I turned on my heel and ran as hard as I could away from him. I have not seen him since that moment.”

Her friend’s eyes rounded. “Goodness.”

“I must know who he is,” Tabitha said, her eyes searching for him in the bookshop but not spying him anywhere. “Not because I want to become acquainted with him, of course.”

“Why, then?” Helena wanted to know. “Why would you wish to know who he was?”

Tabitha looked back at her. “So I can make sure to stay out of his way entirely,” she said, a little hoarsely. “He is dangerous, I am sure of it, and I want nothing whatsoever to do with him.”

Chapter Two

Gideon scowled darkly at the two ladies who had completely ignored him for the last few minutes. He was quite certain that one, at the very least, had seen him standing there, patiently waiting for them to step aside and yet, she had done nothing of the sort! Curling his fingers into his palms, he threw open the door of the bookshop and strode out into the sunshine.

The warmth did nothing to lift his spirits. He did not want to be here, did not want to be present in London and yet his responsibility to his sister had to be fulfilled. With their mother recuperating from a winter illness, Gideon had not had any other choice but to come to London society, to force himself to mingle with gentlemen and ladies of the ton. He would have much preferred to remain at home, to have kept himself involved with estate matters instead of returning here but that choice had been taken from him. 

“There you are, brother.”

“What do you mean?” Striding towards his sister, Gideon threw up his hands, narrowing his gaze at her. “I have been looking all over for you.”

Emilia did not even flinch, perhaps a little more used to his anger than he had expected. “Why were you looking for me? I told you that I wished to take my leave once I had purchased some books. I thought you would have been waiting for me at the carriage.” She gestured to it but did not take her eyes from him. “When I stepped outside, you were not present and thus, I thought to remain here and wait.”

“I went to peruse the books for myself,” he muttered, still irritated with her. “I thought you would be a few minutes with the purchase and I did not want to stand around and wait.”

“I see.” She blinked, then turned to the carriage. “Might we make our way home, now that you have finished trying… and failing… to berate me?”

Gideon’s jaw tightened. “Emilia, you cannot speak to me like that. You will never find yourself a husband when you have a tongue that moves far too quickly!”

Much to his frustration, she laughed at this instead of taking what he had said with any seriousness. “I highly doubt that, Lancaster. You may think that the perfect young lady is one who does not say very much at all but I can assure you, there will be many gentlemen who are glad of a young lady with spirit.”

“You have far too much spirit,” he muttered under his breath, waiting for her to climb into the carriage before following after her. Emilia was the exact opposite of him in every way. She was bright whilst he was shadowed in his spirit. She laughed whilst he frowned. There was an easiness about her character and her manner that he fought against, displeased with how simple it was for her to irritate him. To his mind, she was not taking her London Season with enough seriousness, was not truly considering all that a gentleman might require of her as his wife. Emilia disagreed with him firmly, telling him on more than one occasion that he was much too severe in his thinking and that she was quite sure all would be well. 

They had only been present in London for ten days and already, Gideon was growing weary of it all. 

“There is Lord and Lady Newton’s ball this evening, is there not?” Emilia’s bright smile told him just how much she was looking forward to it whilst, inwardly, he shriveled at the thought. “I am very much looking forward to it.” Sending him a glance, she sighed contentedly and looked out of the window. “You must do your best to smile, Lancaster. I will not have gentlemen pushed away from even acquainting themselves with me because of your severe look.”

“You are the daughter of a Duke,” Gideon reminded her, near growling now with irritation at her lackadaisical attitude. “You will have all manner of gentlemen approaching you and none of them can be trusted immediately. If I am severe in my look, it may push back those of them who are interested in you because of your standing and your fortune.”

Emilia did not look in the least bit dismayed. Instead, she only smiled and tilted her head at him. “Do you not think that I can make such judgements myself, brother?”

It was a question he did not dare answer. Emilia was, to his mind, far too determined in her own opinions and the like and, given her young age, he did not think it right that she should be so. It had been something of a disagreement between them for the last few years and thus, Gideon knew it would be best for him to remain silent on the matter. Besides which, he considered, looking out of the window, she did not know the truth. She did not know what had occurred earlier in the year and just how close she had come to ruination. 

It is best for her that she does not ever know. 

“Do promise me that you will, at the very least, try to appear a little more contented than you do at present?”

Gideon sighed inwardly and threw her a sharp glance. “Emilia, I shall be just as I am. Do not ask me for anything more.”

His sister huffed and folded her arms across her chest, her jaw jutting forward just a fraction as her eyebrows lowered. Gideon, unmoved by this display of upset, said nothing and instead, looked away from her, out of the window.

“I do wish you would tell me why you despise society so.”

A cold finger of dread began to lace up his spine.

“Mother has told me not to ask you but I can see just how clearly you dislike being here. You have been irritable and angry,  more so than usual I mean, ever since we first set foot in London.”

“Emilia, this is not a conversation I am willing to have.”

“But why not?”

His head whipped around towards her. “Because it is not something I wish to speak about! If our dear mother has already told you not to ask me about it, then why must you persist in doing so?” Raising his voice to such a high level had not been his intention, but he had done so nonetheless. The whispers and shadows of the past began to pull at him, plucking at his clothes and his hair and Gideon’s anger burned hot. “I will not speak of it, Emilia. Do not ask me such a thing ever again, do you understand me?”

The way her eyes rounded, color fading from her cheeks, told him that he had been a trifle too strong in his response to her. Shimmering tears came into her eyes as she nodded but Gideon hardened his heart to her upset, telling himself that it was best for her to know just how strongly he felt about such a thing. The last thing he needed at present was for her to demand to know what had happened in the past. Something that he had taken great pains to hide from everyone. Emilia’s gentle sniffing made him scowl and he shifted in his seat so that he faced the window a little more, determined not to let her upset affect him. He had made himself absolutely clear and, one way or another, she would have to learn to abide by what he said.

***

Clasping his hands behind his back, Gideon watched his sister dancing with a Lord Knightwood, seeing her laughing up at the gentleman. The edge of his lip curled, displeased at her response to the gentleman. She was being much too encouraging, mayhap even flirtatious and that was absolutely unacceptable for any young lady of the ton, even less so for the sister of a Duke! Recalling what she had asked him, Gideon tried to keep the scowl from his face but struggled to do so. This was not at all a pleasurable experience for him and, to be frank, the sooner his sister found a suitable gentleman, the better. That way, Gideon would be able to return to his estate and all could return to normal.

“Lancaster?”

He turned sharply, about to deliver a furious blow to whomever it was who had spoken to him in such an inappropriate manner, about to remind them that he was to be referred to as ‘Your Grace’, only for the warm, smiling face of his friend to greet him. Taking a step back, Gideon let out a harsh breath, shaking his head as he did so. “Lord Markham.”

“You were not expecting me, I think.”

Gideon shook his head, then stuck out his hand. “Not in the least. I thought you were quite happily married?”

His friend arched an eyebrow. “An occasion you missed, if I recall correctly.”

This did not bring even the smallest flush to Gideon’s face. “Indeed, I did. I am afraid I was taken up with estate matters.”

Lord Markham tilted his head. “Is that so?”

The dull way he spoke told Gideon that Lord Markham did not believe such a thing but he himself only shrugged, refusing to permit such a thing to trouble him. Lord Markham was unaware of what had taken place and thus, Gideon could not expect him to understand.

“There were a few… difficult matters that required my full attention.”

There was a momentary pause, only for Lord Markham to shrug and then smile, clearly willing to set it all aside. “I see. Then, whilst I am sorry that you did not manage to attend my wedding, I do hope you will now be willing to be introduced to my wife?”

“But of course.” Gideon had no real interest in becoming acquainted with the new Lady Markham but it was the right thing to do and thus, he injected as much delight into his tone as he could. “I am surprised that you are back in London, my friend. I thought you would have been on your honeymoon.”

Lord Markham chuckled, snapping his fingers at a nearby footman. “Our honeymoon is to begin after the Season.”

“And why is that?”

Taking a glass from the footman’s tray, Lord Markham turned to Gideon again. “Because my wife was very eager to come to the Season again. Not for her sake, I might add, but because she is very eager to help a friend.”

“And you chose to accommodate such a request instead of insisting upon your honeymoon?” A little astonished that the gentleman would do such a thing, Gideon’s lips twisted as his friend nodded. He did not understand why Lord Markham would be willing to do such a ridiculous thing. 

“You do not understand,” his friend said, somehow able to read the thoughts in Gideon’s mind. “That is quite all right. When it comes time for you to fall in love, I am certain that understanding will come then.”

Gideon snorted aloud at this. “I have no intention nor expectation of falling in love,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips. “I think it quite foolish.”

This did not seem to upset nor insult Lord Markham, for he only grinned in a most irritating way as Gideon took another sip of his brandy. 

“You are here with your sister, I expect?” 

Relieved that Lord Markham had changed the subject, Gideon nodded. “She is dancing at present.”

“And you are not especially enamored with the idea of being her chaperone, I imagine.” Lord Markham chuckled as Gideon rolled his eyes. “But it must be done, I suppose.”

Gideon nodded. “Indeed it must. I do admit, however, that the thought of her finding a match very soon would be pleasing. Although at the same time, I must take great care with any gentleman that thinks of pursuing her. They might well be seeking only her fortune and an improvement in their standing.”

At this, Lord Markham’s expression darkened. “That much is true, I suppose. You will have to take great care with her, just as you shall have to do with yourself.”

A frown tugged at his forehead. “With myself?”

“Yes, when you go to wed,” Lord Markham replied, lightly. “You must be aware that even now, the ton will be watching you carefully, eager to know when you might begin to pursue a young lady. From that moment, they will throw sisters, cousins, daughters and friends in front of your eyes, eager to have you consider them.” He chuckled wryly. “There are times I am very glad not to be a Duke.”

“It matters not,” Gideon replied, firmly. “I have no intention of marrying.”

A moment of silence told him of Lord Markham’s surprise. 

“There is a duty to the title, I know,” Gideon continued, ignoring Lord Markham’s stunned silence. “When I am older, mayhap, I shall arrange for a suitable creature to marry, the heir will be produced and all will be done as expected. But to think of matrimony at the present moment is not something I am in the least bit inclined towards considering.”

“I see.” Lord Markham’s eyebrow lifted. “And what if you should find yourself captured by one particular young lady? What if she is someone you are unable to remove from your thoughts… even from your heart?”

Scoffing at this, Gideon shook his head. “That will never happen.”

“No?”

“Because I am not in the least bit interested. Therefore, it will not occur.”

This made Lord Markham chuckle but Gideon did not ask him as to why he did so. His attention had been drawn by something else. 

A face. 

A familiar face… and one that struck his heart with a fiery anger so furious, he feared he might explode with the heat of it all.

“My friend? Are you unwell?”

“Not unwell but angry,” Gideon replied, his eyes trained on the face of the gentleman he despised. “I did not think that he would be coming to London, not after all that he did.”

“Did?” Lord Markham frowned, then took a step closer to Gideon, his gaze darting across the room as if he hoped to spy out precisely who Gideon was speaking of. “This is someone who has maligned you, then?”

Gideon grimaced, recalling the moment he had found that gentleman in the woods, how he had roared at him with all the upset and fury that had been building in him for days. Had that young lady, whoever she had been, not cried out in fright, then Gideon feared he might have severely injured the fellow – perhaps beyond recovery. What she had done, in exclaiming as she did…. did not only save the gentleman’s life but had given Gideon himself pause. As far as he was concerned, he had been meting out the correct punishment for the man’s sins.

“He did not malign me, no. There was, however a connection with Lord Poole’s sister which may have caused me some pain… though not much,” Gideon muttered, darkly. “Lord Poole had every intention of injuring my family in a way that I could not and will not forgive.”

“Your family?” Lord Markham repeated, sounding all the more concerned. “Goodness, then something must be done, Lancaster! The ton must know of it!”

Gideon shook his head. “It will do no good. It is his word against my own, for all the evidence I have has been burned.”

Lord Markham blinked. “You burned it?”

“I did.” Gideon rubbed one hand over his eyes, aware of the regret beginning to steal through him. “In a moment of anger, I threw all that I had found upon the fire. Do not ask me to explain all to you, my friend, for I have no desire to. It was a slow but painful discovery and I thought… well, I thought that I had made it quite clear to him that he was not to come anywhere near my family again.”

A quick snatch of breath told Gideon that his friend understood. “You think he has followed you here?”

“Mayhap.”

“But for what cause?”

Gideon looked directly into Lord Markham’s eyes and felt the familiar swirl of tension in his stomach. “Because Lord Poole already tried to steal Emilia away once,” he gritted out, as Lord Markham’s eyes widened. “And I fear now that he has come to try the very same thing again.”