 
Marriage by Bargain: Book 1

The

Viscount's

Runaway Bride

Ruth Ann Nordin

The Viscount's Runaway Bride

Published by Ruth Ann Nordin

Copyright © 2016 by Ruth Ann Nordin

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

Cover Photo images Period images. http://www.periodimages.com/welcome-to-periodimagescom. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Cover Photo images Dreamstime. www.dreamstime.com. All rights reserved – used with permission.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Coming Soon In The Marriage by Bargain Series

Chronological List of Ruth Ann Nordin's Books

Where To Find Ruth

Dedication: To Marcy McNelis whose generous heart has blessed me many times over. Thank you for being a source of great joy!

Chapter One

Early October 1817

"You have to invite Loretta to this dinner party," Miss Celia Barlow said. "She's your betrothed."

Anthony Barlow, Viscount Worsley, tried not to grimace as he finished his dinner. Good heavens, but what had he been thinking when he agreed to marry his sister's friend?

"I only intend for this to be a business dinner," Anthony told his sister.

Celia set her napkin on the table and shot him a pointed look. "Every single dinner party you've had this year has been a business dinner. This won't be any different."

He set the glass back down. Noting that she was finished with her meal, he gestured to the butler to let him know they were done and rose from the table so he could escort her out of the room. It'd be best to continue this discussion when they were alone. If he thought he could avoid it, he'd slip up to his bedchamber and be done with it, but there was no escaping Celia. When she had her mind set on something, she hounded him through the entire townhouse until he listened to her.

"I've invited Loretta to every single dinner party this year," he said, keeping his voice low as they walked down the hallway. "That was including the one I had last week. I see no reason why she needs to come to the next one."

His sister jutted out her bottom lip. "You'll be making me go out to the country next week, and I'll be stuck all alone out there."

"You won't be alone. I'll be there, too."

"You know what I mean." They entered the drawing room, and he shut the doors to ensure their privacy. "I won't have another lady to talk to."

"Well, I won't have another gentleman to talk to, so it's no different for me, either."

"Yes, but Loretta and I are like sisters. We share everything." She clasped her hands together and peered up at him. "Won't you please consider marrying her right now?"

Somehow, he managed to resist the urge to groan. "I already told you I want the wedding to be done properly. She needs time to get a beautiful gown, and there are banns to be read. Plus, all your other friends and our relatives can be there to share the special day. You don't want to spoil all of that for her, do you?"

By the way her shoulders slumped, he could tell his argument had worked—again. Good. It was bad enough he'd already agreed to rescue her friend from financial ruin. He didn't need to ruin his own life, too...just yet.

He went to the desk and pulled out invitations to write to his friends for the dinner party. A benefit to not having any ladies in attendance would mean he could invite Warren, the Earl of Steinbeck. With any luck, Warren might be able to secure his father-in-law's attendance as well. The two were good when it came to financial matters, and he couldn't wait to hear what they thought of a business venture he was thinking of investing in next year with Captain Egan.

Celia walked over to the window and let out a mournful sigh.

Anthony chose to ignore her. She was still moping about the dinner party, but this was his dinner party and he had a right to invite—or not invite—whomever he wanted. If she wanted to see her friend, she could do it some other time.

He dipped the quill in the inkwell then started to pen the first invitation when Celia walked over to him. "Sometimes I miss our grandparents."

Surprised she should bring up that particular topic, he glanced up from the invitation and looked at her sullen expression. "Sometimes I miss them, too."

And he did. He missed them more than he had ever missed their parents. There were moments when he thought it'd be nice to have one more day to talk to their grandfather or one more day to take a stroll with his grandmother.

But all the wishing in the world wouldn't bring them back, so he tried not to dwell on it. What good was dwelling on things that could never be? This also brought him to the point in his life where he had resolved himself to his upcoming marriage. For better or worse, his course was set. There was no sense in wasting time thinking of things that might have been.

A teardrop fell on his hand, breaking him out of his thoughts. He turned his attention back to his sister who dabbed her eyes.

He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said with a sniffle. She brushed the cloth against her cheeks. "The worst part is that we didn't get to go to their last dinner party. Remember it? We went to the symphony instead? From time to time, I wish I hadn't been so insistent on skipping the dinner party. It was the last time we would have had with them. Life is so short. You just never know if you'll get to see someone again or not."

Anthony's gut twisted into an all-too-familiar knot. "Celia, you will see Loretta again."

"How can you guarantee that?"

"Because I know it."

"You can't be so certain about it. What if she suffers a terrible accident like our grandparents did?" Celia pressed, more tears brimming in her eyes. "I didn't expect it, and neither did you. I still bear the guilt from not seeing our grandparents one last time. I don't want the same with my dearest friend." She reached out and touched his hand and sniffled. "Please, Anthony. Give me this one thing, and I won't complain the entire time we're in the country this winter."

His gaze met hers, and his resolve weakened. The dinner party would only be for one evening. Surely, he could manage that since he would have a reprieve for the next few months in the country.

"All right," he said. "Loretta can come."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She went over to hug him. "You're the best brother in the entire world."

"So you keep telling me," he replied.

She released him, all the tears replaced with a large smile. "That's because you are. I am the most fortunate lady in all of London to have you for a brother. Now, I'll leave you alone so you can write the invitations." She turned from him but then snapped her fingers and faced him again. "I just had a wonderful thought! When you write the invitation to Loretta, make it sound like it was your idea to invite her. She'll be thrilled knowing you're looking forward to marrying her next year. It'll give her brothers hope, too, as they go through this very trying time."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. There was no way he could say he was excited about having Loretta over. All he could bring himself to do was extend the invitation. But rather than explain this to his sister, he said, "I'll get started on the invitations at once."

She let out an excited cheer and hurried out of the room.

With a groan, he picked up the quill and got started, his earlier enthusiasm for the dinner party significantly diminished.

***

"Thank you for coming," Anthony whispered to his friend on the evening of the dinner party.

"When you explained the situation, I couldn't let you go through this alone," Corin St. George, the Earl of Durrant, replied, his voice low.

Anthony glanced over at his sister who was at the drawing room window, eager for Loretta to arrive. His dinner party, which should have been enjoyed by six gentlemen, had been slimmed down to just the four of them. He hadn't been able to invite his good friend Warren, and because of that, Warren's father-in-law and Warren's two friends, Malcolm and Robert, were off the list as well.

"What a sad state of affairs it is when we have to bend our will to what ladies want," Anthony whispered.

"I know how your sister is," Corin assured him. "She's not easy to say no to."

"No, she's not."

And it did bother Anthony that he kept giving into whatever she wanted. But he didn't know how to change things so that he could say no and have her accept it without turning things around so she got what she wanted.

"I hope you understand I have no interest in your sister," Corin said, still keeping his voice low. "It's nothing against her. She's pretty and intelligent, but I don't think of her in a romantic sense."

"You have no need to worry," Anthony assured him. "I know you're only here as a favor to me."

Corin relaxed, and he went over to a chair and sat in it.

How Anthony envied him. There would be no marriages thrust upon him against his will. He was free to marry whomever he wished.

"Oh, good! Loretta's here," Celia cried out and hurried to the doorway.

With a heavy sigh, Anthony went over to the settee and grabbed his glass of port wine. He gulped it down, pretending he didn't notice the sympathetic expression on his friend's face.

Yes, Corin was very fortunate indeed. His future was wide open to him. He could even choose not to marry if he wanted. Granted, as a titled gentleman, he most assuredly would want an heir, but if the right lady didn't present herself, he could choose to pass on the title to his younger brother.

"You look stunning this evening!" Celia gushed over her friend as they came into the room. "Doesn't she look stunning, Anthony?"

Out of obligation, Anthony glanced over at Loretta. Good heavens. She was wearing another yellow gown. Bright yellow, to be exact. Was it possible she was unaware of how much she resembled a banana?

Corin coughed, probably as a maneuver to cover up his laughter. A smart move on his part. Had Anthony not been betrothed to the walking banana, he might have laughed, too. But as it was, he was too horrified to do so.

Celia brought Loretta over to him and urged her to sit with him. There wasn't enough port wine in the world to make him say Loretta looked attractive in such garish clothing.

"I think I'll wear a yellow gown at our wedding," Loretta told Anthony, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "It's my favorite color."

"That's no wonder since you look so good in it," Celia replied as she sat in a chair next to Corin. "We have so many plans to tend to, Loretta. Anthony wants this to be the wedding of your dreams. He said he'll spare no expense. I dare say, this wedding just might be so marvelous that even Lady Eloise will be drooling with envy."

The two ladies giggled, and Anthony felt a stab of pain shoot across his forehead. This was going to be a long evening. Worse than that, it was going to be a very long life.

Loretta touched his arm, and he had the urge to pull back. "Celia was distraught that we couldn't marry this year," she began, "but I assured her that waiting will only make things that much more exciting. And, as your sister pointed out, we can have one of the most expensive weddings in London. I think the Ton will be talking about it for years to come."

"Oh, most definitely," Celia agreed. "Then after you marry, we can go to Paris and have gowns specially made for us." She clapped her hands and squealed in delight. "Maybe we'll even get a chance to see Spain!"

The two giggled again, and Anthony rubbed his temples. Why didn't his sister understand there was a limit to the money? He had the hardest time keeping up with her demands. Worse, Loretta was the same way.

"It'll be so much fun to see you more, Loretta," Celia said. "I was just bemoaning the fact that I'll have to spend an entire winter at the estate. I do so wish Anthony and I could stay in London."

"I wish you could stay, too," Loretta agreed. "It's going to be boring without any of the fun things we have during the Season."

"Then you'll be as bored as I will."

Loretta nodded. "Except you get to enjoy the fresh air of the country and have all that room to run around."

Celia let out another giggle. "I ran around that large estate when I was a little girl. There are so many places to hide that one could get lost if they're not careful."

"Well, maybe your brother and I will run around there after we marry," Loretta teased, glancing at Anthony. Then, she whispered, "If you find me, you get to have your way with me."

Anthony's gut tightened in dread.

The butler came into the room and announced that dinner was ready. Relieved, Anthony bolted up. He would have run to the dining room had he not been mindful of his obligation to escort Loretta there. With a glance at Corin, who dutifully offered Celia his arm, Anthony turned back to Loretta and escorted her out of the room.

"I hope you don't think I'm only marrying you because of Celia," Loretta softly told him as they strolled down the hall. "I think we'll make a splendid match. We get along so well. I was just thinking the other day of the things we will do after we marry. We'll go to the theatre and the symphony. There will be the museum, of course. But we won't do anything as silly as the menagerie or circus or balloon launches. We'll spend our time with influential members of the Ton. I think it would be wonderful if you could befriend Lady Eloise's father and brother. Think of all the opportunities that will open up to us if you got in with the right people."

"There's nothing wrong with the friends I currently have."

"Well, it's true Lord Steinbeck and Lord Durrant have much to commend them. They are upstanding gentlemen. But I think you'll benefit even more if you make time to engage in conversations with other, more notable, gentlemen. You don't mind doing that from time to time, do you? For me?"

She squeezed his arm, and as she did so, her breast pressed against it. He shuddered. He knew the action should have aroused him, but it had the opposite effect. God help him, but he had no idea how he was going to have an heir with her. It just didn't seem humanly possible, and he couldn't pay some other gentleman to do the job for him.

"Anthony?" she asked, once more squeezing his arm.

He made it to the dining room and slipped his arm out of hers, the reprieve from touching her finally enabling him to breathe normally. "I just had an idea," he said as he turned to his sister and Corin. "There's no reason why this townhouse has to be empty all winter. Why don't I let Celia stay here? I'll go to the estate by myself."

Though Celia's eyes lit up with excitement, she asked, "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," he replied.

Celia went over to Loretta and hugged her. "How wonderful! Then we can plan out your wedding at our leisure!"

"Indeed, we can!" Loretta agreed and gave him a smile. "Thank you so much, Anthony."

Corin shot him a sympathetic smile before they took their seats. For the winter, at least, Anthony would be granted some much needed peace. If only winters could last forever...

Chapter Two

Anthony stared out the window of his carriage as the driver slowed the horses. About a mile up ahead would be the inn he'd stay in for the night. While he wished he was in London, he just couldn't stay there anymore. Not with Loretta and his sister there, both planning the worst day of his life.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Surely, by next spring, he'd be able to stomach the idea of marrying Loretta.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop, and his eyes flew open. He peered out the window in time to see a young lady wearing a cloak that concealed everything but her pretty face. She was carrying a valise, and she seemed to be imploring the driver for something.

Eyebrows furrowed, Anthony opened the door just as the driver was telling her, "I'm afraid he cannot help you."

"Help her with what?" Anthony asked.

The young lady turned to face him, and Anthony caught sight of the most amazing eyes he'd ever seen. They were as green as a new leaf on the tree in spring with a hint of the blue sky around the pupils. Then there was the rest of her. She had smooth white skin that would make his sister stew with envy, and her perfectly formed pink lips practically invited a gentleman to kiss her.

"Sir?" the lady asked.

He blinked, unaware she'd been talking to him.

"You should address him as 'my lord'," the carriage driver told her. "He's a viscount."

"My apologies," she replied then turned those hypnotic eyes Anthony's way. "My lord, might I have a moment of your time?"

"Certainly," he opened the door further and gestured for her to get in.

The footman came around the door and poked his head into the carriage. "Begging my pardon, my lord, but is it wise to pick up a strange lady in the middle of nowhere?"

"She's not in the middle of nowhere," Anthony replied. "We're practically in the next town."

"We're a mile away from the next town."

"Yes, as I said, we're practically there." Anthony turned his gaze to her. "Are you heading for that town?"

"I'm heading where you are, my lord," she said.

Anthony couldn't help but find her response amusing even though the footman shook his head as if to say he didn't trust her.

Well, trust her or not, Anthony was intrigued. It wasn't every day a beautiful young lady asked for a moment of his time. If she meant him harm, then it would get him out of the bind he was currently in with Loretta. So either way, he had something to gain from the encounter.

"Oh, let her in," Anthony told the footman. "If I need your assistance, I'll tap on the ceiling." To demonstrate, he knocked on it.

After a moment, the footman sighed. "Very well, my lord." He helped her in but shot her a wary look before he shut the door.

She sat across from Anthony and set the valise next to her. Then she lowered the hood from her cloak, and he swore the entire world stopped spinning. She was even lovelier when her hood was down. Her blonde locks fell in gentle waves around her face. Up to now, he hadn't found blonde ladies all that attractive, but after seeing her, he just might never give another brunette a second look for as long as he lived.

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with me," she said as she folded her hands neatly in her lap. "You'd be surprised by how hard it is to find a gentleman who's willing to take pity on a poor helpless lady in the middle of nowhere."

The carriage moved forward, and he said, "I hope you had planned to stay at the inn for the night because that's where I'm going."

"That is fine. I certainly don't mind sharing a room with you."

Her comment was so unexpected that he coughed a couple of times before he was able to speak. "Sharing a room with me?"

"I can sleep on the floor if you wish. You are the one paying for the room, and we don't even know each other. At least not yet. So it makes sense I should be the one to take the floor. But I can pay for the room, if you wish."

For a long moment, he could only stare at her. She spoke of this so matter-of-factly that he supposed he should toss her right on out of the carriage and go on his merry way. But he was human, and being human, he wasn't a stranger to urges of a more sensual nature. Just the thought of her in bed with him made him think of the interesting things they could do together.

He shook the thought away. No, he couldn't. Well, he could. She had the kind of beauty that was meant to be thoroughly enjoyed. But he wouldn't. He wasn't married to her, after all. And more than that... Well, he just wasn't married to her, and he had a duty to get married and have children. But he didn't have that duty tonight.

No! He wouldn't. It wasn't right. There were some things in his life he vowed to do, and a meaningless night in bed with a lady—no matter how beautiful—just wasn't one of them. He wasn't a rake, for goodness' sakes. He had a good reputation, and he was going to keep it intact.

She gave him a smile that weakened his resolve. Maybe he could be that kind of gentleman. If only he could stop looking at her, he was sure he could start thinking with his mind again. But he couldn't. Because at the moment, he was imagining what she'd look like without her clothes on, and that did very little to strengthen his resolve.

"You surprise me, my lord," she went on. "You aren't the kind of gentleman who takes a lady he hardly knows to his bed."

Finally, when he found his voice, he asked, "Do you make it a habit of asking gentlemen to share a room with you at an inn?"

"Well, I wasn't asking. Not really. I need a place to stay tonight, and I can't risk being found."

Found? "Who's looking for you?"

Instead of answering him, she picked up the valise and set it on her lap. "I have a bargain for you, my lord, and before giving me your answer, I hope you'll take time to carefully think about it. Take all night if you need to. But I will need the answer by tomorrow morning."

He was ready to ask her what the urgency was, but she opened the valise and showed him the contents. His jaw dropped. Money. And lots of it.

"I'll give you everything in this valise if you marry me," she said.

***

Miss Damara Onslow held her breath as the handsome viscount sitting across from her considered her proposal. At least, she thought he was considering it. He kept glancing from the money to her face with an expression that indicated he was tempted by the offer.

Please say yes. Please say yes.

He was the fifth gentleman she'd propositioned that day. One had refused because he was already married. The other refused because she couldn't explain how she'd gotten a hold of so much money. The third suspected she was an enemy's sister sent to lead him into a trap. The fourth wasn't interested in marriage. This left her with him, and she doubted there'd be any more gentlemen coming through here this evening.

The viscount glanced up at her again. His chocolate brown eyes, which matched his hair, made butterflies flutter around in her stomach. She'd read of gentlemen who could render ladies weak simply by looking at them, but until she came across this one, she had believed such musings to be merely a myth. Now, she knew it was true. Because there was something about him that excited her in a way none of the others had.

"Are you serious?" the viscount finally asked.

"Yes," she assured him. "The money is rightfully mine to do whatever I want, and I need a husband as soon as possible. If you wish, you may think about it, but I'll need the answer by tomorrow morning."

He didn't reply. That was probably due to shock. She couldn't blame him. She wouldn't believe it, either, if she was in his position.

She glanced out the carriage window and saw they'd be in town soon. "My lord, you have yet to answer me about the room. May I stay with you tonight? It's getting late. If you decide not to marry me, just take me a mile outside of town tomorrow, and I won't bother you anymore. I promise."

When she started out this morning with this plan, she had no idea it'd be so difficult to secure a husband. But gentlemen were surprisingly hard to marry, even when a valise full of money was in front of them.

She shut the valise and set it back to her side. "Are you already married?" There. She had to ask it. Just so she'd know. Then there would be no chance he'd marry her.

"No, I'm not married."

"Then might I take a moment to assure you that I'll make a good wife? I'm not difficult to please. I can be quiet and leave you to your business. I won't intrude on your life if you don't want me to."

She held her tongue and waited for him to respond. He kept scanning her up and down, an indication he wasn't paying that much attention to what she was saying. She'd seen the look before and knew it meant he found her attractive. Unlike the last gentleman who'd looked at her that way, she didn't mind it when this one did.

"What is your name?" she asked.

Blinking, he directed his gaze toward hers. "Name?"

"If you're not comfortable giving me your Christian name, you can just tell me your title." Then, hoping to draw something out of him since he was a surprisingly quiet gentleman, she added, "I'm Damara."

"Oh, well..." He shifted in the seat again then crossed his legs, probably in an attempt to hide the erection she'd been pretending she didn't notice. "I'm Lord Worsley. My family and close friends refer to me as Anthony."

"Anthony. That's a wonderful name."

"I can't take credit for it. My parents were the ones who came up with it."

For the first time, she caught a twinkle in his eye and smiled. Good. He had a sense of humor. That was nice. She was so tired of people who took everything much too seriously.

On impulse, she left the valise and went to sit beside him. Though he stiffened, she caught the spark of desire in his eyes. Under ordinary circumstances, she wouldn't have been so forward, but these weren't ordinary circumstances.

He was the first gentleman she'd come across today that she had any chance of marrying, and she was not going to waste this opportunity. He was attracted to her. He wasn't married. And she liked him already. Granted, these things weren't much, but it wasn't like she had time to let him court her. She needed to seal this arrangement as soon as possible.

"So, tell me, Anthony," she began, leaning toward him, "what do you enjoy doing?"

"Well..." He shifted away from her, but she opted to scoot closer to him, and as a result, her breast brushed his arm. His face grew red. "Sorry." He made an attempt to move his arm away from her, but there was nowhere for him to move it. The carriage was too small, and she'd left no space between them. "Um, I think my arm-"

Before he could ask her to move back, she said, "You like money, don't you? All gentlemen should like money."

He seemed taken off guard by her statement. "Uh, yes. I like money. I think you're right. All gentlemen do."

"What else do you like?"

"Um, let me think." He cleared his throat. "Um..."

She was sure he was doing his best to concentrate on having a conversation, but the telltale sign of his erection notified her why he was having so much trouble. The money hadn't been enough to secure a marriage. Yes, it'd interested him, but it hadn't sealed the deal.

She didn't need a love match. She just needed someone better than the gentleman her parents would have her with. And Anthony was definitely better. Much better. Attractive. Kind enough to give her a ride without trying anything with her. And, in some ways, sweet. It was sweet he tried to hide his desire for her.

"You have a sense of humor," she said. "One of your interests is laughing, isn't it?"

"Yes." He shifted again, though it did no good. "I like to laugh. But then, doesn't everyone?"

"No. Not everyone. But I think it's wonderful you do." She paused then added with a teasing grin, "I suppose you also like to wear clothes."

This time when he laughed, he relaxed a bit. "I better or else I'd get in trouble with the Ton. I have no desire to be the main topic in the Tittletattle."

"Well, you do spend some time naked. It'd be hard to take a bath with clothes on."

"That's true."

"I find it freeing to sleep without them on. Do you?"

"I've never slept without clothes on."

"You should try it sometime," she said. "The sheets are cooler that way."

"But in the winter, wouldn't that make you cold?"

She shrugged. "I had a fireplace next to my bed, so not really. Do you have one next to yours?"

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to answer but then shut it. After a moment, he said, "I'm not sure we should be discussing things this personal."

"If you marry me," she began in a soft voice, "then it wouldn't be too personal to discuss. And," she added, leaning so close to him that their lips were almost touching, "you could sleep naked with me." Then, hoping to prompt things along, she kissed him.

She wasn't sure if he was going to push her away. She was much too bold in her actions. This was definitely a gamble she was making, and she didn't know him well enough to know whether the gamble would pay off or not. But then, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

Relieved, she parted her lips and let him explore her with his tongue. She'd had the displeasure of kissing before, but this was nothing like it'd been up to now. His kiss was pleasant. It was so pleasant, in fact, tingles of delight traveled from her head and straight down to her toes. She had no idea a kiss could be this wonderful. If this was what her future could be like with this particular gentleman, then she most definitely wanted to marry him.

When the kiss ended, he took a moment to look into her eyes. He had gentle eyes, the kind that let her know he would treat her with great tenderness and affection. She'd only seen that look once, and it was when she was a child. It'd been the kind of look her cousin had given his bride on their wedding day. She'd felt guilty for spying on the private moment, so she'd quickly left the veranda before they saw her. Never in a million years did she think anyone would look at her that way.

"Please marry me," she whispered. "I can tell you're a kind gentleman, and I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you."

He caressed her cheek before his hand cupped the side of her face. "You have to be the most exciting lady I've ever met."

Unable to stop the smile curling her lips up, she asked, "Is that a yes?"

"Well, life is short. You can never tell what will happen. Maybe it's important to seize the moment when it comes." He kissed her. "Yes, I will marry you." Then he brought his head back to hers and kissed her again.

Chapter Three

This had to be the most irresponsible thing Anthony had ever done. Up to now, he'd lived in a world of carefully crafted decisions. He hadn't done anything spontaneous. He'd measured each choice against a list of pros and cons. Well, all choices minus those his sister made for him. But this was something he was doing on his own accord. And he'd never felt more alive.

Damara was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. He didn't feel the dreaded sense of obligation he'd felt with Loretta. Nor was there the restlessness he'd experienced with all the other ladies he'd met in London.

No. With Damara, he felt as if he'd finally found a reason to enjoy life. Which was ridiculous. He didn't know her. Yes, he found her extremely attractive. Her personality and beauty tempted him in ways he'd never been tempted before. The money was only a side benefit to what she was offering. Really, though, she fascinated him, and he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself if he let this opportunity go.

So it was with great enthusiasm he obtained a special license, paying extra to have everything rushed so he didn't have to delay marrying her. He didn't think he could resist the temptation to take her to bed this very evening. And he wanted to be fair to a lady who was going to be his wife.

As he and Damara waited for the vicar, he turned to Damara. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to turn back."

"I want to marry you," she replied, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.

He thought she might ask him if he was sure he wanted to marry her, but she didn't. Perhaps she was afraid he'd say no. But how could he? She was much better than Loretta. She was like a breath of fresh air in his otherwise dull existence. For once, he was going to act on impulse and follow where his heart was leading. For once, he was going to do something for himself.

She kissed him, and he suspected she did that in order to quiet any second guesses he might be having. But he didn't have them. For the first time in his life, he was absolutely certain that he was doing the right thing.

Someone cleared his throat behind them, and they pulled away from each other. The vicar shot them a knowing grin as he led the two witnesses into the building.

"I think we'll get right to the ceremony, so you two can be alone," the vicar teased.

Face warm, Anthony directed his attention to the others. Since this was to be an informal ceremony, he supposed it was all right that Damara insisted on holding his hand.

He'd only heard of couples eloping, and he'd often wondered what the appeal was. Now he knew. Sometimes the thrill of doing something unexpected propelled people to do things they otherwise wouldn't do. And there was no doubt that marrying such an exciting lady this way was the most thrilling thing he'd ever do.

Was this something he would one day tell their children about? Was it wise to give them the idea to follow his example? Wondering so far off into the future was silly, of course. Having children all grown up who were ready to marry was a long way off. But still, he couldn't help but think of them while he was exchanging vows with the enchanting stranger next to him.

When they were officially declared husband and wife, he decided to act on impulse and kissed her. The others chuckled, and one even teased he should hurry on to the inn before he went further. If he'd been in London, he would never have been so bold. He most certainly wouldn't have done any of this if his sister had been there to witness it. But he wasn't in London and she wasn't here. He was free to do whatever he wanted.

He paid the group, picked up the valise, and left the building.

She glanced around the small town on their way to the inn as if she was looking for something—or someone.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she quickly replied, turning her attention back to him. "Everything's wonderful. Perfect, even." Before he could scan the people around them, she urged him into the inn. "We don't want to spend all night out here, do we?"

Catching the teasing tone in her voice, he looked at her and saw the twinkle in her eyes. Never before had he ever come across a lady so beautiful. Loretta just failed in comparison. "No, we don't," he replied, his heartbeat already picking up at the thought of spending the night in bed with this exquisite creature.

They went up to their room, and he was happy to see that the coachman had already brought up his trunk. However, it also reminded him that the only thing Damara had was a valise full of money.

He shut the door behind him. "I was thinking, we should get you some clothes before we leave town tomorrow. You can't exactly wear money."

He turned to face her, fully expecting her to agree with him when he realized she was already undressing.

She lowered the dress from her shoulders, letting it fall gently to the floor. He dropped the valise. He hadn't expected her to get ready for bed so soon, but he wasn't going to stop her. If she wanted to consummate their marriage right away, he was more than happy to do so.

He removed his frock coat and cravat as he made his way over to her, not in the least bit shy at watching her as she continued to undress. Maybe she wasn't a virgin. Maybe she'd been with other gentlemen before him. He should probably be disappointed. And in a way, he was. He hadn't been with a lady before and had assumed he'd take a virgin to bed on his wedding night. But how many gentlemen had already lost their virginity well before getting married and no one thought anything of that? It seemed rather hypocritical that he should mind her having the same rights as a gentleman did.

Besides, she was his wife now, and from this moment forward, she would only be with him. That was the thing that mattered most.

As he continued to remove his clothes, he kept his gaze on her, his erection growing harder with each layer she took off. Her creamy white breasts were soon exposed, and her nipples hardened in the cool air. Then she lowered her stockings and petticoats to the floor, and he was granted the full view of the golden curls between her legs. His penis throbbed in anticipation. What pleasures waited for him inside her body?

With a sharp intake of his breath, he hurried to remove his breeches. He was going to make love to her, and he'd do it often. There was no way they'd have the kind of marriage where his only concern was having an heir.

He would have had that kind of marriage with Loretta, but he wasn't going to have it with Damara. If he was getting so much enjoyment simply by looking at her, then lovemaking was going to be the best thing he'd ever experience. Much better than the thrill of making a profit from an investment.

As soon as he shook off the last of his clothes, he closed the gap between them and took her in his arms. Right away, he noted that she was slightly trembling. His first thought was that she was nervous about being with him, but then he quickly dismissed it. The room was chilly. They weren't under the covers yet. She was cold. That was all.

He pressed her against him and kissed her. Soon, she'd be warm. Then she'd feel better. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, not the least bit shy in parting her lips so he could slide his tongue into her mouth.

Caught up in the excitement of it all, he proceeded to interlace his tongue with hers. This was much better than it'd been in the carriage because now there were no clothes between them. If she felt this good before he slid into her, he didn't know how long he could hold off on releasing his seed.

He brought his hands up to her breasts and cupped them in his hands. His thumbs brushed her nipples, and he caught the shiver of pleasure as it coursed through her. He ran his thumbs along her nipples a second time, delighted when she shivered again.

With a moan, he carried her to the bed and settled on top of her. Oh, but she felt heavenly. Her breasts were wonderfully soft as they pressed against his chest. The flesh between her legs was so wet that the tip of his penis dipped into her, just shy of full entry.

A part of him warned him to slow down. It was their first time together, after all. But then, he figured this was going to be one of many more times, so he didn't have to exercise patience. Plus, she wasn't a timid virgin.

She was a lady who'd done this before, so he didn't have to worry he'd startle her. She was expecting this, and since she wrapped her legs around his waist, he knew he had her permission to enter her. He dipped a little more into her and groaned. Wet and warm. She was perfect. Just perfect.

He couldn't recall a time when he lost all consciousness of the world around them. But right now, in this moment, it was just the two of them, and he wanted nothing more than to claim her.

Unable to hold off on entering her anymore, he plunged into her. Though tight, the warm folds of her flesh clenched around him, urging him to release his seed. He slid partway out of her. Then, with the need to be fully inside taking over, he thrust into her again. He drew himself almost all the way and went back in. The more he repeated the movement, the looser she seemed to get.

Something wasn't quite right. He had the nagging thought that she had been a virgin after all, and he would have been better off taking it easy on her. But it was too late for him to slow down now. He was too close to the brink of release to hold back.

With a cry, he stilled and filled her with his seed. The sheer bliss of being consumed by her overrode all other thoughts, and the only thing he could do was hold onto her as she held him. It wasn't until the waves of pleasure subsided that he was coherent enough to think over the fact that he might have hurt her.

He held off on pulling out of her for as long as he could. He didn't want to see if there was blood. He'd rather not know. But another part of him—the logical part—had to find out if there was.

Rising on his elbows, he took a moment to study her expression, trying to prepare himself for the worst. She wasn't crying. That was a promising sign. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her so that their lips were touching.

With a sigh, he complied with her wish and kissed her, not in any hurry to stop. They spent considerable time kissing, and he almost forgot all about the fact that she might have been a virgin. Almost. But the pressing question compelled him to end the kiss and pull out of her. In the moonlight coming through the window, he saw the telltale sign of blood on him and a little on the sheet beneath her.

He hurried to grab his handkerchief from the pile of clothes he'd thrown to the floor and poured clean water on it.

"What's wrong?" Damara asked, sitting up in the bed.

"There's blood on the sheets," he replied. "I should clean it up before it stains." He rubbed soap into the handkerchief then went over to the bed. After he wiped the sheet clean, he glanced at her. "Maybe I should clean you up, too. Will you lie back?"

She shot him an amused smile but obliged him, parting her legs. "You're acting as if you're surprised I was a virgin."

"Well, I am surprised," he admitted as he gingerly cleaned her, wiping all traces of her virginity from her. "You were so...so..." Unable to think of the right word, he shrugged.

Her expression turned serious. "Was I too forward?"

Noting the worried expression on her face, he hurried to assure her, "I didn't mind. You were a very enthusiastic bed partner. That's the kind every gentleman dreams of having in a wife. I just thought since you weren't timid, you had been with another gentleman before me." Finished with cleaning her off, he rinsed off the handkerchief and cleaned himself off. "I wish I'd been more careful with you. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It only stung for a little bit. I'm not in any great pain."

He glanced over at her, wondering if she was only telling him that because she knew it was something he wanted to hear.

"I'm telling you the truth," she said. "Maybe some ladies find their first time to be a frightful experience, but I didn't." She waved him over to her. "Come back to bed. I've been enjoying our time together."

So had he. He'd been enjoying everything they'd been doing, and already, he could feel his body getting ready for another round of lovemaking. Was this how it was when a gentleman hadn't been with a lady until his wedding night? He had assumed since he'd already made love to her once, he would have been satisfied for the rest of the night. But the opposite seemed to be true. Now that he had experienced the pleasure of the bed, he was all the more excited to do it again.

But he would give her body time to rest first. Then, the next time they did it, he'd be more careful with her. He settled back into the bed and gathered her into his arms, content to hold and kiss her until she was ready for him to make love to her again.

Chapter Four

Damara woke long before Anthony did. Now that they'd consummated their marriage, there was no backing out of it. Even as they lay in this bed, she might be conceiving his child. That child might even be an heir, and if there was one thing titled gentlemen needed more than anything else, it was an heir. So regardless of what happened from this point on, her future was secure. She no longer had to worry about the past she'd escaped.

She glanced over at the window and saw it was dawn. She should be exhausted. Her search for a husband had begun early yesterday, and it took her a long time before Anthony finally came along. Then they'd stayed up almost until midnight. That only left her with about four hours of sleep. But no matter how much she tried to go back to sleep, she couldn't. Whether she was still experiencing the fear of being caught or the relief of knowing she was now safe, she was wide-awake.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Anthony, and washed up in the basin. As she cleaned the area between her legs, she couldn't help but smile at how concerned he had been after their first time together. His touch had been gentle as he cleaned the evidence of her virginity.

He'd worried needlessly about hurting her. Her monthly cramps were much worse, and to think her mother considered those to be a blessing. It's proof that you haven't been doing anything wrong, her mother often said.

Damara rolled her eyes. A blessing indeed! It was a curse. That's what it was. She hoped she had conceived last night. It'd be nice to be spared the awful cramps that confined her to bed for an entire day until they finally subsided.

Once she was done washing up, she got dressed. Then she checked her reflection in the small mirror above the vanity. Her hair was a mess. But that was her fault. In her haste to find a husband, she hadn't bothered pinning it up.

She went to her valise and unbuttoned the side pocket. She hadn't been able to fit her brush into the small pocket, so she had to settle for the comb, and the comb was going to be harder to work with. But it was worth it. She was free from her parents and Lord Comwright.

After she dug the comb out, she returned to the mirror and sat in front of it. She worked through the tangles as gently as she could, but from time to time, the comb would hit a snag and she'd gasp. She gritted her teeth and tried to be as quiet as possible as she forced the comb through it, but she wasn't as quiet as she'd hoped to be because she ended up waking Anthony.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sitting up in the bed.

She glanced over at him and offered a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. I'm just combing my hair. It's still early. You should go back to sleep."

He returned her smile and got out of bed. "I don't think I can. I'm too excited about marrying you."

Noting the soft tone in his voice, she stopped combing her hair and turned to face him. Of course, her gaze went to the male part of him. Having never seen a naked gentleman before last night, she couldn't help being curious. They were different from each other, but those differences were complementary. Together, they fit very well, and she had to admit she had enjoyed making love to him.

"We'll be going to my estate," he told her.

She directed her attention back to his face as he took a fresh washcloth and poured clean water into it.

"I was on my way home for the winter when you found me," he said.

"Where is your estate?"

"A day's ride north of here," he said. "If we leave early, we can actually get in tonight, though it'll be late." He glanced at her. "Do you feel up to it? If not, we can stop at another inn tonight."

"No. I'd rather not spend another night at an inn." The sooner they could get to his estate, the better. And her parents lived south of them. That worked to her advantage. "I don't mind how late we get to your estate."

"The traveling does get to be tedious, doesn't it?" He smiled at her before he washed his face.

Once more, she found her gaze going down until it centered on the male part of him. Before he lowered the washcloth and caught her staring at him, she turned her attention back to the mirror in front of her. There was so little she actually knew about gentlemen. She hadn't had many dealings with them, at least not with those who weren't related to her.

She took a deep breath and forced her mind back to the present. She had a new life now. From this point on, things were going to be different. She'd taken matters into her own hands and was better off for it.

Her comb got stuck on the tangle, and she grimaced.

"Do you need help?" Anthony asked.

Surprised he'd been watching her, she turned her attention back to him. He'd already put on his shirt, and she couldn't help but notice it was long enough to cover the section of him that she'd been unable to avoid looking at whenever her gaze went in his direction. She didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved. She ought to be relieved. Now she wouldn't get distracted.

Clearing her throat, she offered a smile and gestured to her comb. "It's just a tangle." She made another attempt to work the comb through the stubborn tangle, but again, it got stuck and pulled her hair.

"Maybe I can help," he said and went to his trunk.

Curious, she turned toward him and watched as he sorted through his things. After a few seconds, he pulled out a small bottle.

"This might help smooth out the tangles," he said.

"What is it?" she asked as he walked over to her.

"Oil. It should help to make it easier to run the comb through your hair." He held his hand out to her. "May I?"

It took her a moment to realize he wanted her to give him the comb. With a nod, she gave it to him and watched as he rubbed a small portion of the oil on the teeth. He sealed the bottle then placed it on the vanity.

"Where is the tangle?" he asked.

She picked up the bunched up mass of blonde hair and showed it to him. He knelt in front of her and brought the comb to it, slowly and carefully working through it. She was too stunned to speak. Combing a lady's hair just didn't seem like the kind of thing gentlemen did. In fact, she was sure of it. That's why ladies had lady's maids. But then, there wasn't a lady's maid here, and he knew the trick about the oil. So maybe it made perfect sense for him to be doing this.

"There," he said, his face lighting up from being able to help her. "The tangle's all gone. Do you have any others?"

"A couple." She turned her back to him so he could get a better look at her hair. "Can you see them?"

"Yes. I'll get rid of them for you."

He ran the comb along her hair, and she was relieved when the oil did what he promised it would. She watched his reflection in the mirror. She had no idea anyone could be so gentle. First, there was the concern he'd shown her after they first made love, and now, he was being careful with her hair. Were there other gentlemen like this, or was he the only one?

When he finished, he handed the comb back to her. "I like your hair, especially the way it frames your face." He brushed her cheek with his finger, the action so endearing her breath caught in her throat. "You're a beautiful lady." Then with a chuckle, he stood up and took the bottle of oil back to his trunk. "Of course, you already know that."

No. As a matter of fact, she didn't. Her gaze returned to the mirror, and she studied her reflection. She knew he liked her hair, but what else had pleased him? Was it her overall face, or was it just her cheek? She touched her cheek. It was soft, like the rest of her skin. There didn't seem to be anything unusual about it.

"At least after today, we can take our time and enjoy ourselves," Anthony said.

Turning away from the mirror, she saw he was continuing to get dressed.

"I'm relieved you don't mind a long day in the carriage," he went on. "I don't care much for traveling any more than my sister does, but I'd rather be stuck in a carriage for the rest of my life than stay in London through the winter."

"You have a sister?"

"Just one. She's probably your age." He paused as he tucked his shirt into his breeches. He gave her a good look. "I can't recall seeing you at any of the balls."

That's because she hadn't been in London, but she didn't want to tell him that.

"That was probably my fault," he continued as he grabbed his boots and sat at the edge of the bed. "I wasn't paying much attention to the ladies. I was more interested in making money."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He wasn't going to ask her why he hadn't seen her.

He slipped his boots on. "That's not to say that money is my only interest. It's not. I'm like most gentlemen. I did notice ladies when I saw them, and I was always looking forward to finally taking one to bed. And," his eyes met hers and he grinned, "I can honestly say that being with you is better than making money."

Her face warmed, and she returned his smile.

"You're quiet this morning," he said.

"What?"

"Well, yesterday, you did most of the talking. And this morning, I seem to be the one rambling on."

"Oh, well..." That was because fear had propelled her to do all the talking she'd done so he wouldn't have time to think of why marrying her wasn't a good idea. Then after they did marry, there had been the matter of getting him to consummate the union. This morning, she'd succeeded on both counts, and now that she was safe, another emotion was quickly taking over. "I'm nervous," she finally admitted.

"Nervous? Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

It was a lie, but there was no way she could tell him that she had no idea how to act. No one had taught her what to do after she became a wife.

"Do you regret marrying me?" Anthony asked, his voice soft.

"No," she quickly assured him. "Do you regret marrying me?"

He shook his head. "I don't. I probably should since we married in haste. But I don't."

Sensing his honesty, she relaxed, and in doing so, she decided she could open up to him, at least a little bit. "I lied to you. I do know why I'm nervous. I have no idea how to act. Now that we are married, I don't know who I'm supposed to be."

"Is that all?" He smiled. "Just be yourself."

That would be an easy thing to do if she knew who she was.

He rose to his feet and held his hand out to her. "It looks like we're both ready. We'll have something to eat before we leave."

She accepted his hand and stood up. She thought he was going to let go of her hand, but he brought her closer to him and gave her a kiss. Though it was a soft kiss, she detected the underlying passion in it, which was reminiscent of the previous evening. Even after they'd shared a night together, he still desired her. That was nice. And very unexpected. So she hadn't lost his interest after satisfying him.

"Our marriage will be what we make of it," he whispered. "Together, we will determine if it'll be a good one or not, and I want you to know I'm committed to doing everything I can to make it the best it can be."

"I'm committed to doing that, too."

"So we have nothing to worry about." He lowered his head and kissed her again. "Are you ready to see your estate?"

"Yes."

"Good because I'm looking forward to spending the entire winter alone with you."

Her nerves easing, she helped him get their things ready to put into a carriage.

Chapter Five

It wasn't until they were out of the small town that Anthony remembered his wife hadn't brought any clothes except for the outfit she currently wore. Minus the comb, her valise had contained nothing but money.

Ending their kiss, he cupped the side of her face with his hand and said, "I think we should stop at another inn for the night."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I thought we agreed we'd go to your estate tonight."

"Well, yes, we did. It's just that you only have one dress. If we stop at the next town, there's bound to be a shop where we can get you more things to wear." He wasn't sure how many dresses they'd have since it was bound to be less than what they'd have in London, but even one or two new dresses were better than none.

"You said you have a sister who's my age."

Not sure where she was going with this, he nodded.

"Are any of her dresses at the estate?" she asked.

His eyes lit up with understanding. "Yes. Lots of them."

"Then why don't I borrow hers? I don't mind asking her permission."

"She's staying in London through the winter. It'll be just the two of us."

"In that case, it'd be a waste to buy more dresses, wouldn't it?"

He thought over her argument and decided she was right. Celia was a little shorter than her, but he thought she'd be able to fit them. "I suppose that will work. I should tell you though," he added, "that I have plenty of money. You might have assumed I was a gentleman without means since you offered me money in return for marrying you, but the truth is, I have more than enough. When we go to London next year, I insist you get an entire wardrobe of your own dresses."

"Since you insist, I'll do it." She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. "I promise."

Good. Now that the matter had been resolved, he didn't have to feel guilty about putting her through such a long day's journey. The day was going to be exhausting enough for him, but with her being a lady, it was bound to be even more so. His sister, after all, usually spent the entire way complaining about how miserable she was.

He was surprised Damara hadn't already mentioned something about how bumpy the ride was, how the constant swaying back and forth upset her stomach, or how time seemed to go slower and slower with each mile. Truth be told, it was a pleasant change.

"Are you disappointed I won't get dresses today?" Damara asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Surprised, he turned his gaze back to her. "No. Why did you think I was disappointed?"

She shrugged. "You didn't go back to kissing me."

"I was just remembering my sister. She hates carriage rides." When her eyebrows furrowed, he chuckled and brought her into his arms. "It was all the talk about her dresses that made me think of her. It had nothing to do with you." Sensing she needed further reassurance, he kissed her. "You definitely haven't disappointed me."

She relaxed against him and smiled, as if his answer had relieved her of unnecessary guilt. He wasn't sure what to make of her strange reaction. He was certain there was a reason for it, but without knowing her better, he couldn't even begin to guess what it was.

He lowered his head and kissed her again, this time letting his lips linger on hers. Yes, the carriage would hit a bump in the road from time to time, and yes, the carriage was swaying from side to side, but in all honesty, he wasn't going to let those things deter him from kissing her. He was enjoying it far too much, even if it did make his body ache to do more.

When they arrived at the estate, he'd take her to his bed, and he'd be able to be more intimately entwined with her then. For now, he'd have to bide his time. There was no better way, however, to bide his time than kissing her. And so, that was exactly what he kept doing.

***

When they arrived at the estate, Damara could only make out an outline of the manor. If the moon had been brighter, she might have made out some of its details, but as it was, it seemed to loom in front of her like an imposing structure. Much like the one she'd left only days ago.

With a shake of her head, she forced the thought from her mind. This wasn't her parents' estate. It belonged to Anthony. And because of that, she had nothing to dread here.

She turned her attention back to him. He was asleep. She couldn't blame him. The day had been a long one, and they hadn't slept much the night before. She should be asleep, too. Or at the very least, she should be sleepy. But she was wide-awake.

There was too much happening for her to sleep. All in the span of two days, she'd been able to escape, find a husband, and come to a place where she would be secure. All of her problems were behind her. She would have cried with relief if she had any more tears in her.

The carriage came to a stop, and Anthony stirred. "Are we there already?" he murmured.

Thinking he was rather adorable as he struggled to wake up, she leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. "Yes. We're at your estate."

He straightened up and rubbed his eyes. "My sister says I can sleep through anything. It looks like she's right."

"Well, a lot has happened. It's no wonder you were tired."

The footman opened the door and peered into the carriage. "We've arrived. The coachman will wake the butler, and then we'll bring your things in, my lord."

Yawning, Anthony nodded.

Damara's smile widened. Yes, he was so incredibly adorable.

Since the footman extended his hand to her, she accepted it and let him help her down. Anthony picked up her valise and soon followed.

The footman led them to the entrance of the manor, and she was able to get a better look at the smooth walls and the arched doorframe. Once inside, she noted the dark red rugs that led to a winding staircase. Above hung a chandelier, which was lit with so many candles she couldn't count them all. A mirror and a bench with trimmed plush fabric were to her right. The hallway was wide, giving her a good view of doorways to the rooms that lined it.

Even with this small amount of the manor she was seeing, she could tell he was wealthier than her parents by the quality of his things. She wondered why he hadn't laughed when she'd shown him the money in her valise. She wouldn't have blamed him if he had. A gentleman in dire straits would have benefited a lot from her dowry, but Anthony had no need for it. Still, he had made sure to carry her valise instead of letting any of the servants do it ever since he had agreed to marry her, so he did value it to some extent. Well, why wouldn't he? Money was still money, regardless of the amount.

The butler hurried toward the entryway, the coachman close behind. "My lord, we didn't expect you until tomorrow."

"I know," Anthony hurried to assure him. "I recently married," he gestured to her, "and thought it best to arrive early."

The butler bowed a greeting to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Would either of you like a drink or something to eat?" he asked as the coachman went back out to the carriage to get Anthony's trunk.

Anthony glanced at her, finally looking as if he was fully awake. "Would you like anything?"

"Just something to drink," she replied. "Anything will be fine."

"Bring some wine and a pitcher of water up to my bedchamber," he told the butler.

"I'll do it at once." The butler turned and hurried back down the hall.

As Anthony led her up the stairs, she said, "Your staff is attentive."

"They're good at their jobs," Anthony agreed. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "No doubt, they're relieved my sister isn't here. She'd have Cook make her a full meal, even if she wouldn't eat more than three bites."

Noting the way he rolled his eyes, she asked, "What is your sister like?"

"She's the kind of person that's hard to say no to."

Up to now, she hadn't given his sister much thought, but then, why should she? His sister wasn't here, and she wouldn't have to meet her until next year when they went to London. Even so, it was probably a good idea to know something about her. "What's her name?"

"Celia." He placed his hand on the small of her back and added, "I'm glad she decided not to come here for the winter. It'll be nice to have you all to myself."

Pleased, her skin warmed. "I'm looking forward to being here with you, too."

He smiled. "In the morning, I'll show you all of my sister's dresses, and you can pick whatever you want. We'll have the maid assist you with getting ready for the day. She'll be your lady's maid until we hire one in London."

"I hope that won't be too much work for her. This is a large place, and I'm sure she's already busy enough as it is."

They reached the steps, and he stopped to turn to her as if he hadn't expected her response.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No. It's just that... Well..." He laughed. "If you knew Celia, you'd understand why you surprised me."

Surprised him? "How did I surprise you?"

He guided her down the hall. "I love my sister. Really, I do, so please don't misunderstand what I'm about to say. The fact of the matter is...Celia would never have asked after a maid's comfort."

"That's probably because she has a lady's maid already."

"No, it's not that." They reached a closed door, and he opened it. "The hour's late, and I have other things I'd rather think about than my sister." He shot her a suggestive smile that made her entire body tingle. "I'd rather focus on you."

"Well then," she took his hand and led him into the bedchamber, "you may certainly do so." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

He pulled her closer to him and deepened the kiss. She melted against him. He was turning out to be an easy gentleman to like. She doubted there were many like him, so she considered herself fortunate that she found him.

The knocking on the door pulled her out of her dreamlike state and to the butler who was carrying a tray of the items Anthony had requested.

"Oh, right," Anthony said as he turned to the butler. "You may put that over there." He gestured to the table by his bed.

As the butler set the tray down, the coachman came in with a large trunk and set it by the wardrobe.

"We can get to that tomorrow," Anthony told the butler. "It's late. Let's retire for the night."

The servants nodded and hurried out of the room, probably more out of a courtesy to the newlyweds than because they were eager to go to sleep.

"Though your servants aren't afraid of you, they are eager to comply with all of your wishes," she told Anthony once the door was closed.

Anthony glanced her way, his eyebrows raised in interest. "Your parents do things differently with their servants?"

Perhaps she shouldn't have voiced her observation aloud. She didn't want to think about her parents, not when she was having such a wonderful time. Hoping to take his mind off of them, she began to remove her clothes. Thankfully, the tactic worked.

She used to think it would be a dreadful experience to be at her husband's whim since her mother had referred to it as a duty every wife must bear. The sooner he gets started, the sooner it'll be over, her mother had advised. But Damara was finding that she was enjoying it. Did that mean her mother was right when she said there something wrong with her?

Damara paused as she was pulling the last of her clothing off. No. She wouldn't think about it. Not now. And not here. If she must give into any of her insecurities, she'd be better off doing it when she was alone.

Forcing all doubts aside, she cast off the rest of her clothing and went over to Anthony, who was already undressed and pouring wine into their glasses. Good. He hadn't noticed her hesitate. That meant there would be no awkward questions to answer.

He pulled her to him and gave her a kiss. "I hope this winter never ends."

Smiling, she returned his kiss. "I hope it never ends, too."

And she meant it. Here, in this estate, secluded from the rest of the world, she could pretend the past had never happened. She could pretend she'd woken up here and was starting life with a clean slate. For this brief time, she was given a reprieve. She could be anyone she wanted to be, and Anthony wouldn't know the difference.

She sipped the wine, and almost at once, it warmed her. Relaxing, she drank some more. Yes. This was a new start. The past could stay in the past. She was now free to create the person she'd always wanted to be, and that's exactly what she'd do. Once she finished her glass, she was kissing Anthony again, and before long, she was back in the wonderful dreamlike state of bliss she'd been in only moments before.

Chapter Six

Damara giggled as Anthony tickled her feet with his. They had chosen to linger in bed the next morning, and after making love twice, he continued to hold her, something she was enjoying immensely.

"I had no idea someone could be so ticklish," he murmured in her ear.

"My feet are sensitive," she replied, giggling again as he brushed her feet with his.

"I should say so." He chuckled and stopped teasing her. "Is it just your feet, or are there other areas on your body that are sensitive?"

"Well, there are other areas that are sensitive, but they aren't ticklish." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. "I think you already discovered those."

"It was fun discovering them."

"It was fun for both of us."

"I have a feeling everything we'll do together will be fun." He kissed the skin below her ear, and she squirmed against him and laughed. He lifted his head and looked at her. "You're ticklish there, too?"

She shrugged. "I can't control where I'm ticklish and where I'm not."

"No, I suppose you can't." He gave her waist a gentle squeeze then kissed her on the lips. "Tell me, do you ride horses?"

"I've ridden on occasion."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Not as much as I enjoy being in bed with you, but yes, I find it entertaining. Do you want to go riding today?"

"I was thinking about it. The weather's still nice, and the sun's out. I thought it might be a good day to go for a ride. I don't get to ride nearly enough while in London. My attention is usually on business ventures."

"Oh?" Interested, she shifted so that she could make eye contact with him. "What kind of business ventures?"

"Mostly, I finance captains who sail to other countries. When they bring back their bounty, I take a portion of the profits."

"What do they bring back?"

"Sometimes spices, linens, precious metals. But next year, I'm thinking of investing in the whaling industry."

"Whaling?"

He nodded. "Whaling is a risky venture. That's not to say that sailing in general isn't without its risks. It is. Many men have lost their lives at sea. But with whales, you're going after a formidable opponent. It makes whales all the more valuable. As with most things in this world, the higher the risk, the greater the reward."

Considering the situation that led her here, she couldn't agree more. Being with him made everything she'd gone through in the past worthwhile. "I suppose you appreciate things more when you have to risk something in order to get it."

"Yes, you do." He smiled and gave her a lingering kiss. "I want you to know I don't often go around picking up ladies who happen to ask for a moment of my time."

Unable to avoid teasing him, she asked, "You mean, you've let other ladies into your carriage?"

Chuckling, he kissed her again. "No. You're the only one."

"Then what made you decide to give me a moment of your time?"

"You'll think it's silly."

"No, I won't. You can tell me."

"All right, but if you laugh, I'm tickling your feet again."

"It's a deal," she agreed.

"I let you into my carriage because I wouldn't have done it a year ago. I used to play it safe all the time. I also let others dictate my life. It was easier to do that than to risk making the wrong decisions myself. But when I saw you, I thought it was time to do something different. For once, I was going to act without worrying about what others thought."

"You took a very big risk in agreeing to marry me."

"It was no bigger than the risk you took in making the offer. I could have been a brute."

Since Anthony was turning out to be one of the sweetest people she'd ever met, she found the whole thing laughable. "Oh, you're not a brute."

"You didn't know that at the time."

"No, but you didn't know I wasn't one, either."

"Yes, that's very true. We could have been two horrible people. If that had been the case, then we would have deserved each other."

"Yes, you're right. We would have." Realizing this conversation might lead him to ask her why she'd been on the road looking for a husband, she said, "I'd love to go horseback riding. Does your sister have such an outfit for the occasion?"

"She has an outfit for every occasion."

"Good." She kissed him. "Then I'll be appropriately dressed for anything you want to do around here."

"First, we should take a bath. Then we'll have something to eat," he kissed her hand, "and after that, we can finally go for a ride."

"It sounds like a perfect day."

"It will be," he promised then kissed her on the lips.

She responded to him, thinking they'd be getting up soon and getting dressed, but one thing led to another and they were making love once more.

***

Damara stared at all the clothes hanging in the armoire. As it turned out, this wasn't the only selection of clothes Anthony's sister possessed. There were three armoires total in the lady's bedchamber. And to think Celia had more clothes at the townhouse in London! Damara couldn't even conceive of having so much of anything.

One would think having such a wide selection would make the process of picking a morning dress easy. But it wasn't. The very fact that there were so many to choose from only made it more difficult.

There was a knock on the bedchamber door. She pulled the robe closer around her and went to open it, fully expecting it to be the maid. But instead, she saw Anthony.

"You're already dressed?" she asked, which was a silly question since the answer was obvious.

"I think it takes ladies longer to get ready than it does for gentlemen. Mind if I come in?"

"No, of course not." She stepped aside and let him into the room. "Your sister has so many beautiful dresses that I don't know which one to pick."

He chuckled as she shut the door. "Would you believe she doesn't think she has enough?"

Her eyes grew wide. "No."

"It's true."

Just what kind of lady was his sister? She had more dresses than a dress shop, and her bedchamber was elaborately decorated with only the finest things. The lady lived more like a princess than the sister of a viscount.

"Do any of these dresses draw your interest?" Anthony asked as he went over the armoires lining the wall, each of the doors wide open.

"There are so many. It's hard to choose." Then, thinking it would make the decision easier, she asked, "What is your favorite color?"

"I'm partial to black, but I'd rather you didn't wear that color. We're celebrating our marriage, not mourning it."

She chuckled. "Yes, we're definitely celebrating it."

"What about this purple one?" He gestured to the light shade of purple that was between a darker shade of purple and a maroon one. "I like purple when ladies wear it."

She nodded and took it. The dress was lovely, and she did like its shade. "It looks like this hasn't even been worn. Is it new?"

"I can't recall when my sister got it."

With his sister having so many dresses, she couldn't blame him. It must be hard to keep track of everything his sister acquired. Between the clothes and the items decorating the room, she had to wonder if his sister remembered them all.

"At least now you have the comfort of knowing you won't run out of things to wear this winter," he said, drawing her attention back to him.

"Yes, that's true."

Another person knocked on the door, and the maid called out she was there to help Damara get dressed.

Anthony kissed Damara. "I should leave you to get ready. When you're done, come to my bedchamber, and I'll escort you downstairs. After we eat, we'll come up here to change into our riding clothes."

"All right."

He gave her another kiss and went to answer the door.

Damara gave one more look at the assortment of clothes she had to choose from. She'd have this luxury for the whole winter. Instead of being overwhelmed, she ought to enjoy it. Anthony was being extremely generous with her. He wasn't limiting her to only three outfits. He was giving her the freedom to wear more dresses than she'd ever seen in her entire life. It was like stepping into a dream, and if she were dreaming, she'd take as much pleasure from it as possible.

Before Anthony left the room, she thanked him then turned to the maid so she could get dressed. Fortunately, the dress fit. Well, except for the bosom area. As much as Damara adjusted her breasts, they strained against the material.

"I can loosen the top for you so it's more comfortable," the maid told her.

Damara shook her head. "I can't. This isn't my dress."

"It'd be an easy fix to tighten it again when you and your husband return to London."

Damara considered it, but in the end, she couldn't bring herself to agree. The dress would be altered. If she had Celia's permission, it'd be something she could agree to, but as it was, Damara felt compelled to keep the dress intact.

"I'll be fine," Damara assured the maid. "I'll comb my hair and then go to my husband."

"I can help with that, too," the maid said and guided Damara to the vanity.

"Maybe we should use my comb," Damara told her. "I have it in the other room."

"Miss Barlow isn't here, my lady. Besides, she has plenty of them. She has plenty of pins and other accessories, too." To demonstrate, she pulled open the top drawer of Celia's dresser and showed Damara six brushes, three combs, hairpins of all sorts of designs, and other things a lady could want to make herself attractive. "She also has jewelry if you'd like to wear some of it."

"No," Damara quickly said before the maid could open another drawer. "It's enough I'm using her clothes and brushes and pins. I can't do more than that."

The maid shrugged and gestured for her to take a seat. "As you wish, my lady, but it's no imposition. Miss Barlow complains about them and rarely even wears them."

Damara sat in front of the vanity and studied the maid's reflection. She thought that perhaps the maid was joking, but the maid seemed serious. "Isn't Celia happy with her things?"

The maid chuckled. "The better question is, what can make her happy?"

What a curious thing for the maid to say. Certainly, Celia was happy. She had more than she could ever want. The staff was ready to help at a moment's notice. She had a brother who gave her whatever her heart desired. How could Celia not be happy?

The maid brushed Damara's hair and pinned it back in a way that allowed a couple of Damara's curls to frame her face. She'd never worn such a hairstyle before, but she liked it.

"Will that do, my lady?" the maid asked.

Will it do? "It's perfect," Damara said. "Can you do this style again?"

The maid smiled at her. "Any time you wish."

After the maid left, Damara went to Anthony's bedchamber, feeling just like a fairytale princess. She thought about knocking on his door, but he opened it.

He blinked and scanned her up and down. "I didn't think it was possible for you to look any prettier, but I was wrong."

Pleased, her cheeks warmed at his compliment. "Then you like it?"

"Like it? I love it." His gaze went to her breasts and a sly grin crossed his face. "I especially like the way you fill out the dress." His finger brushed the neckline of the dress and settled at her cleavage. "If it were up to me, you'd wear this all the time."

Sure her face was bright red, she giggled. "You never want me to take this off?"

"Not unless we're alone. In the meantime," he pulled her into his arms, "it'll only make me anticipate our moments alone all the more." He lowered his head and kissed her.

She melted in his arms and kissed him back. Yes, this was just like a fairytale. With the evil parents out of the way, the princess could, at last, be happy.

When the kiss ended, he tucked her arm around his. "It'd be my pleasure to escort you downstairs."

Smiling, she let him do just that.

Chapter Seven

Anthony took a breath of the fresh air and slowly exhaled. It was good to be back on a horse. Next to him, Damara rode in the sidesaddle, looking very comfortable, something that proved how well she handled horses.

It was nice she was getting use out of Celia's riding outfit because Celia had no interest in horses. She'd only gotten the outfit since it'd caught her fancy. It's a marvelous shade of brown, she'd told him when he asked why she had to have it.

At long last, someone was finally getting some use out of it. Better yet, Damara did the outfit far more justice than his sister ever would have. In fact, he suspected Damara could make any article of clothing look a lot better. The color yellow might even look good on her.

He was glad Celia had chosen to stay in London. He wouldn't want to share Damara with her. Celia would have been so excited about having another lady to talk to, he doubted she'd let him have this opportunity to take Damara horseback riding. She most likely would have insisted Damara stay in the drawing room so they could discuss the gossip in London.

But this way, he didn't have to fight for Damara's attention. He had her all to himself. At least for the winter. Come next Season, he'd be happy to share Damara with his sister. Sure, Celia would be shocked to learn he married Damara instead of Loretta, but he had no doubt she'd like Damara once she got to know her. The two would be close soon enough.

"You have a beautiful estate," Damara told him as they came to the top of a small hill overlooking the entire landscape. "I bet you can't wait to come here in the winter."

"I do enjoy being here," he replied, "but usually, I like to be in London more. There are a lot of profitable businesses to tend to there, and I like going to White's. However," he quickly added before she got the wrong idea, "I'd much rather be here because you're with me. You make the place much better."

"Do I?" she asked in a playful tone.

"Yes." He closed the distance between them and leaned over to kiss her. "I can't do the activities with others that I do with you."

She giggled and returned his kiss. "I should hope not. I never enjoyed myself so much in my entire life, Anthony. You're an easy person to like. I bet you have a lot of friends."

"I hadn't thought about it, but yes, I have a good number of them. Some are closer than others, but I think that's the way it is with anyone."

"What do you and your friends do?"

"Most of the time, we try to figure out ways to make more money."

"Are you telling me that you do nothing but work?" she asked.

"Making money doesn't feel like work to me. It's something I do for pleasure. But, before you think I'm a dullard, I do know how to have fun in other ways. I play cards, charades, and chess. And from time to time, I like to dance."

"I imagine you're just as charming in London as you are here. Were you breaking ladies' hearts last Season?"

He laughed. "Breaking hearts isn't something I do. To be honest, I hadn't seriously pursued any ladies until you came into my life. Now, all I want to do is chase after you."

She shot him an amused grin. "Perhaps I'll let you catch me from time to time."

"I hope so. I have lots of things I want to do with you."

"Oh?"

Noting the way her eyebrows rose in interest, he asked, "Would you like to find out right now?"

"Well, you have me intrigued."

"Then why don't you race me to the row of trees over there?" He gestured to the secluded spot that would give them plenty of privacy for anything they'd like to do. Even now, his penis thickened as he imagined her straddled on top of him as she made love to him. "If I get there first, I get to do whatever I want with you."

"And if I win?"

"Then you get to do whatever you want with me as long as it involves the removal of clothing."

"I suspect no matter who wins the race, we'll end up doing the same thing."

"I fully intend for that to be the case."

"Then what's the point in racing?"

His grin widened. "The winner gets to choose the position we do it in."

"Since you put it that way..." He waited for her to finish the sentence, but instead of doing so, she urged the horse into a full gallop.

"That's not fair," he called out as he followed her. "You're cheating."

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a disarming smile. "That's because I have something interesting in mind."

He had fully intended to win the race when he'd brought it up, but now his curiosity was getting the best of him. He'd have to lose. It was the only way he was going to find out what she wanted to do. So he chose to stay close enough behind her to give her a reason to think he could overtake her at any moment, thereby making it more of a victory when she won.

When they came to a stop, both were out of breath. He slid off the horse, calling out, "I'll help you down in a moment," before he tied the reins around one of the trees.

"I think you let me win," she said as he came over to her.

"You don't know that for sure."

"No, I don't, which is why I said I think you let me win."

He reached her side and held his arms up to her. "Do you mind?"

She hesitated then smiled. "No, I don't."

He helped her down then took her horse over to another tree. As he tied the reins around it, he said, "You said you had something interesting in mind if you won. I wasn't about to let you lose after hearing that."

"I suppose I asked for it when I teased you like that."

Grinning, he returned to her. "Yes, you did. And now that we're here, what did you have in mind?"

"You'll have to drop your breeches."

Already, it seemed like he'd made a good decision in letting her win. He quickly complied with her wishes. Even in the cool air, the heat flooding through him caused him to be fully erect.

Her gaze lowered to his penis. "I can do anything I want?"

"I'm all yours."

Her gaze on his shaft, she reached out and traced the length of him. "I've never seen a gentleman's thing before. Well, before you and I married."

So that was what she wanted. She wanted to study him. Well, he certainly didn't mind that. He'd already explored all of her. It was only right she do the same with him.

He brought his hands up to her arms and squeezed them. "Do anything you want," he whispered, both intrigued and excited as she continued her exploration.

He detected a slight blush on her cheeks and thought it made her all the more attractive. Yes, there was no mistaking the fact that his bride had never been with a gentleman before they married. Not only had she been a virgin when they consummated their marriage, but the way she gingerly touched him revealed how naïve she was.

"You don't have to be so gentle," he said.

She swallowed then exerted more pressure.

He let out a contented sigh and shut his eyes. He had no idea it'd feel so good to have a lady touch him so intimately. She spent a few more moments tracing all of him, even allowing her thumb to slide over the slit in his tip, which made him shiver with pleasure.

"You're moist here," she whispered as she ran her thumb back over his tip.

"That's because I like what you're doing," he softly replied.

"I thought you might like me touching you this way."

"I'll also like this."

Deciding to show her how he preferred to be handled, he wrapped one of his hands around hers and cupped his erection firmly in her grasp. He then lowered her hand to the base of his shaft then brought it up to his tip then lowered it back down. After several seconds, he had the rhythm established.

"You can use more pressure if you want." He squeezed her hand so she was even tighter around his erection. Then he released her hand and let her continue on her own. With a moan, he added, "Everything feels good. It really doesn't matter how you're touching me."

"Then it's similar to how I feel when you're touching me between my legs. I enjoy all you do down there, too."

"Do you?"

"Yes. It brings me intense pleasure."

If it was anything like how she was making him feel, then he needed to pay more attention to that area of her body. "Did you find fulfillment in that pleasure?"

"I enjoyed it."

Well, yes, he knew that much was true since she'd moaned and rocked her hips in time with his ministrations, but did she climax? It was easy to tell when a gentleman reached the peak. He released his seed. But with a lady, there was no obvious sign she'd found her fulfillment.

"When I say fulfillment," he began, noting that both her touch and the topic was arousing him further, "I mean a burst of pleasure that is more intense than anything that came before it. After the burst, you feel so relaxed you can barely move."

"I don't think I've had the burst of pleasure, as you describe it. Everything feels good, though."

Well, he was going to have to change that. He wanted her to climax. He wanted her to know what it was like to be so consumed with pleasure that she forgot about everything around her.

He removed her hand from his shaft and urged her to take off the undergarments beneath her riding skirt. "I want to show you want I mean by fulfillment," he explained as he helped her out of the undergarments.

He took her to a comfortable part of the ground. Keeping her skirt on was a wise move since it acted as a blanket and would aid in her comfort. "Lie back and let me touch you like you just touched me."

With a nod, she did as he instructed and spread those lovely legs so he had a good view of the patch of dark blonde curls that beckoned to him. His hand went up one of her legs until his fingers were at her entrance. She was slick. Was it possible that touching him had aroused her? Probably so. He certainly got aroused simply by exploring her.

He slid his fingers along her entrance, and without any effort, two went into her. She let out a sigh and lifted her hips to take him deeper inside. The folds of her flesh surrounded him, welcoming him to fully explore her. He brushed his fingers along her core, and since she moaned her pleasure, he grew bolder in his ministrations.

Soon, his fingers were thrusting in and out of her in earnest, an action which only served to remind him of how exquisite it felt when he was making love to her. And this further aroused him to the point where he ached to have those lovely legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged deep into her.

This prompted him to go faster, and she returned his enthusiasm by rocking her hips with more urgency as she clasped the skirt in her hands. He watched her, noting the expression on her face and the way her body was growing more and more tense. He'd never seen anything more erotic in his life.

Then, all at once, she cried out and grew still. Her flesh clenched and unclenched around him. His gaze went back to her face, and there was no doubt she was experiencing an orgasm. Good. She'd found her fulfillment. And now she knew what it was like and he knew how to bring it to her.

He waited until her body relaxed before he removed his fingers. He thought about stopping here, thinking it might be best to continue this in his bedchamber. But his body wasn't going to have it. He was far too aroused to quit at this point. But he wasn't going to subject her to the hard ground. Even if the patch of grass was soft enough, it wouldn't be comfortable for her.

"Will you get on top of me so I can make love to you?" he asked after a few seconds passed.

She nodded and straddled him, groaning as she took him inside her. Her flesh clenched around him, warm and slick, pulling him in deeper. Grasping her hips, he guided her up and down his shaft, oblivious to the fact that he was on the grass. At the moment, all he could do was focus on her and how good she felt as she squeezed around him. Before long, he grew taut and released his seed.

Once he relaxed, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, not in any hurry to get up, even if it suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't the most comfortable place to make love in. It didn't matter, really. He'd make love to her anywhere.

It seemed that ever since he'd met Damara, he hadn't been able to show any kind of restraint. There was something about her that kept prompting him to throw caution to the wind. It was so unlike him. As little as a month ago, if someone told him he was capable of acting like this, he would have laughed and told them they were being absurd. But here he was, giving little thought to what he was going to do next. He wasn't sure what to make of it, except that he'd never felt freer to be who he really was than he ever had in his entire life. And he had Damara to thank for that.

Chapter Eight

Damara had hoped she'd conceive right away, but two weeks later and in the middle of the night, the familiar ache in her abdomen told her she hadn't. She hurried out of bed and checked the sheets in the moonlight, praying she hadn't soiled them. Soiling the sheets was never good. Blood was one of the most difficult things for the maid to clean. Fortunately, the sheets were fine.

After putting on the robe, she ran down the hall to Celia's bedchamber. Once she lit one of the candles in the room, she set it on the dresser then searched the drawers for anything Celia might have used for the monthly flow. The abundance of jewelry, gloves, hairpins, frilly handkerchiefs, and fans only increased her dismay. These had no real practical purpose for what she needed.

The ache in her abdomen became more pronounced, probably because she was focusing in on it. Whenever she did that, it only seemed worse. She stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. There. That helped. The ache didn't seem quite so insistent now.

She resumed her search, but the last two drawers were only full of stockings. Aggravated, she turned to the three armoires. She didn't recall seeing anything of use in those, but maybe that was because she hadn't been looking for them. Just as she went over to one, the familiar trickle of blood moistened her thighs. She rushed back to the dresser and grabbed a handkerchief, quickly wiping the blood so nothing would get on the rug.

"Damara, are you all right?"

Gasping, she almost dropped the handkerchief as she looked over at Anthony who stood in the doorway. Her face flooded with the heat of her embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping into the room.

How was she supposed to explain this to him? He wasn't a lady. He didn't go through this every month.

"Damara?" he gently pressed as he closed the distance between them.

She tried to blink back her tears, but one slid down her cheek. If she hadn't been so concerned about keeping the handkerchief between her legs, she might have been able to wipe it away before he noticed.

He rubbed her back and studied her face. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm bleeding," she finally blurted out. "It's my time of month." Another tear found its way down her cheek. "I don't know where your sister keeps the cloth strips for this kind of thing."

"I don't, either. I'll have to summon the maid."

The maid? Why hadn't she thought of that? She mentally cursed herself for not thinking of doing that herself. She would have saved herself needless humiliation if she'd done so. A gentleman must never be privy to the timing of a lady's flow, her mother would be scolding her. It's your duty to keep the matter discreet.

Another tear fell down her cheek. Anthony would be disgusted with her now. He might not even want to touch her after this. Despite the situation, she needed to get another handkerchief. Her flow wasn't heavy yet. It'd take another couple of hours for that, but she still needed to make sure nothing soiled the rug.

After he pulled the cord, he returned to her just as she took out another handkerchief. She paused, not knowing whether she should let him know where she was putting the handkerchief or not, but in the end, she figured it'd be better not to stain the rug so she slipped it between her legs, avoiding eye contact with him as she did so.

"Celia will have something," Anthony said, his voice unexpectedly soothing. "She usually spends the entire winter here with me, and I know ladies deal with this once a month."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry?" He chuckled. "For what? You have no more control over this than you can control the sun. It's just something ladies experience." He rubbed her back. "Believe me, I'd rather you be a lady than a gentleman."

She found herself laughing at his joke, and as she did, her embarrassment eased. "If I had my choice, I wouldn't deal with this at all."

"My sister wouldn't, either. She calls it a curse."

His sister would be right. There was nothing wonderful about it.

"I wish it could be differently for you," he whispered.

She studied his expression, noting the tenderness in his gaze. "You aren't disgusted with me?"

"No, of course not. Why would I be disgusted?"

Someone knocked at the door, saving her from having to answer. They both looked at the doorway in time to see the maid enter the room. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

Though the maid had directed the question to Damara, Anthony was the one who answered. "Do you know where my sister keeps the cloths for that time of month?"

The maid's eyes lit up with understanding. "Yes, I do."

She went over to one of the armoires and pulled out a box tucked behind the dresses. She opened it and laid out several strips of cloth. Then she got out an undergarment to hold the strips in place.

"Would you like me to help you with this, my lady?" the maid asked.

"Um..." Damara glanced at Anthony.

"Oh!" Anthony cleared his throat. "I should leave you two alone. Come back to our bedchamber when you're done," he told Damara before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

He wanted her to return to his bedchamber? Their bedchamber? He wasn't so disgusted that he was going to confine her to another room where she'd have to stay until her flow was done?

The maid went over to her and helped her into the undergarment, making sure the cloth was securely in place. Then she helped Damara wipe the blood from her legs and put the handkerchiefs into an empty bowl.

Since the maid looked at Damara expectantly, Damara washed her hands at the basin. The pain in her abdomen worsened, and she winced. From here, it would only get worse, and there'd be no relief for at least a day.

"Would you like something for the pain, my lady?" the maid asked.

"There is nothing you can do for me," Damara replied, forcing her attention to the dry towel, which she picked up to dry her hands. "The pain is something I must bear with."

"It might be worse than the pain I contend with, but I think the drink can at least ease some of it."

"No, you don't understand. There is nothing a lady can do to get rid of the—" She turned to face the maid. "You have something that eases your pain when you have your monthly flow?"

"Yes. It takes a half hour to work, but it does wonders. As long as I keep taking it every two hours, I experience no more pain."

"But I thought there was nothing that could be done about the cramping."

"Why, there most certainly is. Some herbs have the ability to numb pain. I'll bring you the drink I use, and we'll find out if it works for you."

Damara watched as the maid left the room, a surge of anger making her fists clench. Her mother had lied to her. Her mother had told her there was no way out of the pain that came upon her every month. She'd only said, It's a good reminder of your duty to bear your future husband children.

Why would her mother allow her to suffer every month? Every month, Damara's cramps would be so bad that she was confined to her bed, often crying until she finally fell asleep.

And now that Damara thought about it, her mother never suffered the same malady. Her mother was able to go about the manor as if she was free from pain. Her mother had told her that she did feel pain, but she knew how to deal with it.

Another lie. Her mother made sure to take something for the pain herself. Either that, or she never had to experience the awful cramping. But what did it matter? The fact remained her mother had lied. It hadn't bothered her mother one bit when she suffered.

She hated her mother. She hated her father, too, but not as much as she hated her mother, especially after this. Getting away from that estate was the best thing she ever did for herself. She banged her fist on the table. Her parents would have no control over her again.

Footsteps came down the hall, and she relaxed her fists.

Anthony poked his head into the doorway. "What happened?"

Backing away from the table, she said, "Nothing. I'm just waiting for the maid to return with something to help ease my pain. I...I..." She had to explain the noise he'd heard. "It can get so bad that I want to pound the table. I'm sorry."

"What a terrible thing it is when something so natural should bring so much pain." He went over to her and drew her into his arms. "I suppose the same can be said for childbearing." He kissed the top of her head. "Honestly, I don't think I could do it. You ladies are far stronger than gentlemen are." He slid his arm around her waist. "Would you like me to carry you back to bed?"

"No, I can walk."

She leaned against him as he led her back to their bed. She'd gotten away from her parents. That was the important thing. She couldn't do anything about the past. No amount of wishing things had been different would make it so.

What she could do, however, was appreciate everything she had now. Anthony was good to her. She could trust him. He'd never put her through the things her parents had. Yes, she'd take comfort in that. The past was over, and now she had a future she could look forward to.

The maid came to their bedchamber about five minutes after Anthony helped her settle into bed. She drank everything the maid had given her, and as the maid promised, her pain started to ease within the half hour. And shortly after that, it went away completely. This time when she cried, it was with relief. She'd never have to suffer through another month again for as long as she lived.

***

A couple of weeks passed, and Anthony smiled at Damara as they finished their dinner. The nights were shorter these days, requiring candlelight earlier in the evenings. The flames from the candles created a rather becoming effect on his bride. Her hair almost seemed to glow like a halo that an angel might possess.

In some ways, she seemed more like an angel than an actual person since he found her in the middle of nowhere. Of course, she hadn't magically appeared out of nowhere, but when he thought about how little he knew about her, it almost seemed as if she had.

Most of the time, he didn't even think of it. She was a very pleasant lady to be around. She never made any demands from him or the staff, and if he didn't want to do something, she didn't press him to do it.

It was a welcome relief after all the years he'd felt manipulated into doing whatever his sister wanted, especially in regards to Loretta. He was often too grateful to be free of marrying Loretta that he didn't bother questioning his good fortune.

Just thinking of Loretta reminded him that he had to explain the situation to his sister and Loretta when he returned to London. Fortunately, he didn't have to concern himself with the matter right now. No. For now, he was spared upsetting his sister. What a blessing it'd been that Celia stayed in London.

"You're unusually quiet this evening," Damara said. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I feel fine," he assured her. "In fact, I've never felt better. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She returned his smile. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, too."

His heart warmed at her response. He had suspected she was happy with him, but it was nice to hear from time to time. Yes, things were definitely better than they would have been with Loretta.

He set his napkin on the plate. "I just realized I haven't shown you the east wing. It's only fair that the mistress of the estate gets acquainted with all the rooms in the manor."

"I'd love to see it."

Good. The matter settled, he rose from the chair and escorted her out of the room. Once he lit the candles in a candelabrum, he led her to the east wing of the manor. Their footsteps echoed quietly off the hard floor in the hallway. The curtains were drawn, making it seem darker than it actually was. Yes, the sun was setting, but it wasn't night just yet.

Next to him, Damara edged closer to him and grabbed his arm.

He glanced over at her and realized she was getting spooked. This, in turn, made him pay careful attention to how things must look to her. The candlelight cast shadows across the walls, and as they passed by the drawn curtains, he suspected she imagined someone hiding behind them. Well, someone...or something.

With a grin, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side. "You don't need to be afraid," he whispered in her ear. "I won't let any of the ghosts harm you."

"Don't be silly. Ghosts aren't real." Though she made an attempt to sound brave, he detected a slight uncertainty in her tone.

"Are you sure?" Yes, it was wrong to tease her. He shouldn't be encouraging her imagination to go wild, but he was enjoying the way she felt against him as she clung to him.

"You're horrible, Anthony," she admonished, even as she giggled. "You should be mindful of a lady's delicate sensibilities."

He kissed her cheek. "You're right. I'll behave. There are no ghosts lingering in the hall."

"Thank you."

"They're too busy hiding in the rooms."

She gasped and pushed away from him. "You're horrible, Anthony. Just horrible."

He chuckled and opened the door to the room that had the most items in it. "If you feel something tap you on the shoulder, just tell it to go back to the grave. That's what I do."

He could tell by the expression on her face that she was trying to assure herself that he was joking. Chuckling again, he stepped into the room and set the candelabrum on the table.

Then he returned to the doorway and poked his head out into the hall. "Are you coming in?"

A noise came from behind her. She jumped and hurried into the room. He, however, kept his gaze on the source of the noise and saw a mouse scamper across the hall. He'd have the butler set some traps. Glancing back at his wife, he saw Damara hugging herself in a protective embrace. The poor thing was really scared.

He went over to her and wrapped her into his arms. "I'm sorry. I won't say anything else about ghosts. I promise." He kissed her. "I'm going to part the curtains and let some more light into the room."

"It's my fault I frighten so easily," she replied as he drew the curtains apart. "I read too many scary stories when I was younger."

Surprised she'd volunteered information about her past, he turned to her in interest. "Did you?"

She nodded. "There was so little to do that I read everything I could find. My father was partial to books with ghosts and other fiendish creatures in them."

"And what about your mother? What did she read?"

"Books on etiquette. It was always about etiquette with her."

Damara's voice drifted off, and she shivered, once more bringing her arms around herself.

He went back to her and drew her into his arms. "Those stories in your father's books were just stories. Let's take your mind off of them." He led her over to one of the sculptures on a mantle. "Can you guess what that is?"

Though he asked the question, he knew she wouldn't be able to tell what it was. The thing was more like a distorted mass of lumps than anything else.

"Um, is it a donkey?" she ventured.

"No. It's my grandfather."

"What? Your grandfather?" She studied the sculpture.

"It's supposed to be his face. My grandmother was so proud of making the thing that he put it in this room."

"Really? Even though it doesn't resemble a human face?"

He nodded. "He didn't have the heart to tell her it was awful."

"That was sweet of him."

"Yes, but even he had his limits. You'll notice he didn't set it in the west side of the manor where people actually go."

She smiled and shrugged. "Well, it was still sweet."

"I suppose. He could have thrown it out."

"Since they're no longer alive, do you plan to throw it out?"

"No. As ghastly as that thing is, it proves they loved each other."

"I don't think it's ghastly. I think it's lovely," she said. "It's a wonderful testament to their marriage."

"It is."

"What about your parents? Did they have a love match, too?"

He led her over to the portraits of his mother and his father. "That's them. I'd like to say they did, but the truth is, they could barely tolerate each other. They were together enough to have me and my sister, and after that, they lived in separate places. The only reason they had my sister was because they were hoping for another son. You know what they say: an heir and a spare. But the arguing got to be so bad they didn't try for another child."

"I'm sorry, Anthony."

He turned his gaze to her, and noting the concern in her expression, he kissed her. "Don't be. I barely knew them. Oh, they came by to this estate to visit me and Celia from time to time, but I never really knew who they were. They put on a façade around us." He took her over to the portraits of his grandparents. "These are my grandparents, and they were the ones who raised me and my sister. My father was given to mistresses, and my mother had her share of lovers as well. Both sought alcohol to cope because they were never happy. I think that's why they died young. My grandparents lived until three years ago. My grandfather outlived my grandmother by only one month. The doctor says he died of a broken heart because he couldn't live without her."

"It's no wonder he wanted to keep the sculpture she made," Damara said, a wistful tone in her voice.

"The sculpture wasn't the only thing he kept." He took her over to a painting. "My grandmother also did some painting, and this was her best work."

She studied the oddly shaped children at play while a dog chased them in a green field.

"She was better at painting the dog than she was at painting me and my sister," he said, "but that was done when I was eight."

"It's adorable."

"That's what my grandfather thought, and it was why he hung it up in here. That was painted on one of the days we all had a picnic. My grandparents spent a lot of time together. Even when my grandmother's health took a turn for the worse, he wanted to be by her side." He turned his gaze to Damara. "I want what they had. Until I met you, I didn't realize how important the right lady is for a gentleman. When I met you, I was ready to marry someone I didn't care about just because her family was hurting financially."

"You were betrothed to someone else?"

"Yes, but it wasn't a marriage I wanted. I agreed to it because I felt like I had no choice. I imagine that's why my father married my mother, and look at how that marriage turned out." He cupped her face in his hands. "I want better than that. I want you."

She smiled and put her hands over his. "You have me."

"You have no idea how grateful I am for that."

He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. With her, he had something his grandparents had, and he'd never take it for granted.

Chapter Nine

Once winter settled in, there wasn't much to do outside, but that didn't mean Damara ever grew bored. There was too much to do to get bored. Whether she and Anthony were playing games like cards or chess, playing the piano, or taking a stroll, there always seemed to be something to do. She was enjoying her time so much that she hardly noticed the passage of time.

On one particularly cold day, they sat in front of the fire in the den. She sat on his lap, a blanket wrapped around them.

"Are you sure you don't want to play a game of cards or chess?" she asked.

"No. I just want to sit here with you." He squeezed her waist. "I like watching the fire. When I was a child, I used to pick out images in the flames. For instance," he paused, "right now, I can make out the face of a horse." He kissed her cheek. "What do you see?"

She hadn't played this particular game before, but the idea intrigued her. Turning her attention to the flames, she studied them for a long moment until something came to her. "I see a bird flapping its wings."

"Your image moves."

"Is that wrong?"

"No. I think it's splendid. I just never thought of seeing a moving image when I played this game in the past."

"Maybe that's because you're not using your imagination as much as you should be," she teased.

"You're probably right," he mused and gave her another kiss.

"How often do you play this particular game?"

He thought over her question for a moment then said, "Actually, I do it every time I'm in front of a fire. I started playing the game when I was a child. When it was too cold to go outside, I'd grow bored. So to entertain myself, I used to pick out images in the flames. Over the years, it became a habit. I do it without even thinking about it."

"Do you like it more than the other games you play, such as cards and chess?"

"Well, it's certainly a lot more fun with you on my lap. I can't hold you while playing cards or chess."

"Of course, you could."

With a nod, he consented, "All right, I could while we play chess, but I couldn't while we play cards unless you want me to see what's in your hand."

"Couldn't you hold me and not peak at the cards?"

"You underestimate the power of temptation."

She feigned shock. "Why, Anthony, I had no idea you were capable of cheating."

"I am if the situation is too good to pass up."

"Did you ever cheat at any of the games you've played in the past?"

"A few, but only when I was younger."

Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You have to tell me what other mischievous things you've done."

"Since you insist, I will, but I'll only tell you. If you pass on the information to anyone else, I'll deny it."

"I won't tell anyone."

"All right." He paused then grinned. "One time when I was playing chess with Corin, he left the room. I put one of his pieces in a vulnerable position on the board so I could win the game."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I thought he'd notice what I'd done and stop me, but he was oblivious to it."

"Have you ever told him?"

"I didn't. And that's why I'll deny it if you ever say anything to him about it."

"You plan to introduce me to him?"

He nodded. "He's one of my friends. We've known each other since we attended school. His full name is Corin St. George, and he's the Earl of Durrant. He'll be one of the first people you'll meet when we're in London."

"If he's a friend of yours, then I have no doubt we'll get along."

"You will." He kissed her. "I expect you'll get along with everyone. You're very pleasant to be around."

Pleased by his compliment, she thanked him.

"I just thought of another time when I cheated at a game, and this is a technique you should know in case anyone does it to you," he said.

"What did you do?"

"When we were children, I'd play cards with my sister. Celia used to sit by the window, and if the day was overcast, I could see her cards in its reflection."

"You could?"

"Yes, so make sure you watch where you sit while playing a game."

"Hmm..." She thought of the drawing room where they often played cards and relaxed when she realized she hadn't been sitting by a window any of those times. "As long as I'm not by a window, then I'm all right?"

"I promise it."

"Have you cheated at any of the games we played?"

"No. I've been good, but it's important you don't sit on my lap while we play cards or sit by a window. You need to keep me honest."

She chuckled. "You are so much fun. I'm glad I met you before you married that lady you were betrothed to."

"I'm glad we met before then, too." He rubbed her back and smiled at her. "I just realized we've spent all this time talking about me. Why don't you tell me something about yourself? I already know your father read scary stories and your mother read books on etiquette, but I don't know anything else."

"There's not much to tell." And the less said, the better. Besides, she didn't want to drag up the past. She'd rather think about the present. "My life didn't truly begin until I met you." With a smile, she cupped the side of his face with her hand and kissed him. "I've never been happier."

"I've never been happier, either."

"Sometimes I wish this winter would never end. Wouldn't it be nice if we could stop time so that we could be in this time and place forever?"

"Yes, it would be."

She gave him another kiss and then turned her attention back to the fire in front of them. "I think I see a lady twirling around in an orange gown."

"Orange?"

"Well, it is the color of the flames."

He chuckled. "Of course. Tell me, will you pick the color orange when you buy your own dresses?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"As much as I like the way you look in my sister's dresses, I don't want the gentlemen in London getting such a good view of your breasts. You will need something that isn't so tight along the bust line."

She grinned, finding it especially pleasing that he wanted to be the only one who got to see so much of her. He'd even made it a point to have her wear a shawl around the staff when the dress was a little too revealing. She couldn't blame him, really. There were a couple of dresses and gowns his sister had that were probably meant to accentuate her smaller breast size.

She often chose these types of dresses and gowns because she knew it'd tempt him to try something of an intimate nature with her when they weren't in bed. As soon as they were alone, she'd take the shawl off and see how long it'd take before he started touching her. And, naturally, the touching led to kissing, and this led to other things.

Had her mother known about her attempts to seduce him, she wouldn't be pleased at all. But her mother wasn't here, so she was at liberty to do whatever she wanted. It was a freeing experience. For the first time in her life, she was figuring out who she was.

"Do you like me?" she asked Anthony.

He shot her a disarming smile and rubbed her back. "Can't you tell?"

"Well, I know you enjoy making love to me."

"Yes. That's one of my favorite activities."

"But what about the other things we do? Do I hold your interest at other times?"

"My love, you hold my interest at all times."

Her smile widening, she leaned forward and kissed him, and this time she didn't stop until he started making love to her.

***

Anthony rolled off of Damara then drew her into his arms, out of breath from just making love to her. He didn't know how it was possible, but lovemaking only got better every time they came together. And it seemed the same was true for her.

He'd meant what he told her that day in front of the fire. He'd stay here for the rest of his life if he could. But he couldn't. He made money while in London. It was where he had his business dinners and engaged with gentlemen at White's. So, whether he liked it or not, he had to leave, and now that the Season was quickly approaching, he'd better head back to London today.

"I wish we didn't have to go," Damara whispered.

Rubbing her back, he kissed the top of her head. "You must have read my mind. I was just thinking the same thing. I can't believe winter's already over."

"Me neither."

"At least in London we can finally get you your own wardrobe. You won't have to keep borrowing my sister's things."

"I didn't mind. Besides, she has excellent taste in fashion. All of her things are pretty."

He supposed since she was a lady, she was more sensitive to things like that. His sister, however, wouldn't be so inclined to agree. She considered most of her things outdated and boring. But it was nice to know Damara appreciated them. They'd certainly cost enough.

"You are such an unusual lady," he said. "You never voice a complaint about anything."

"Are ladies supposed to complain?"

"From what I know of them, they are. But my dealings with ladies are limited to my sister and her friends. It's possible they are the ones who are unusual."

She propped herself up on her elbow and peered down at him, her blonde tresses falling over her shoulder and to his chest. "If I am unusual, you don't mind it, do you?"

"Whether you're unusual or not, I don't care. You're absolutely wonderful, and I love you."

He hadn't said he loved her before. The words tumbled out without him thinking them through, but he realized they were the truth. He did love her.

"I love you, too," she replied, her face lighting up.

In that case, he was glad he'd voiced the sentiment rather than keeping his thoughts to himself.

The next couple of days were bound to be tiring, but he suspected they would go quickly since Damara would be with him. He'd hardly noticed the passage of time the entire winter. The months had flown right by.

They'd gone so fast, in fact, that he hadn't given much thought to how he was going to explain his marriage to Celia. His sister wasn't going to be happy. He could already see the familiar pout that told him she was disappointed.

He released his breath. He was just going to have to come out and tell Celia the truth. Loretta was going to have to marry someone else. Surely, she'd find someone more suitable for her. Being married to Damara had proved what he'd already known all along: he could never have been happy with Loretta. And honestly, he didn't think Loretta would have been happy with him years from now. They would have tolerated each other at the most. But what kind of marriage would that have been? Not one worth being in, that was for sure. He could only hope his sister and Loretta would understand.

In the meantime, he should probably warn Damara that he'd need to talk alone with his sister before he introduced them. He shifted so that he was facing her, taking a moment to tuck a few golden strands behind her ear.

"Remember what I said about my betrothal to another lady?" he asked.

"All you told me was that you felt forced into the arrangement."

"Yes."

He debated whether or not he should tell her about how convincing his sister could be, but then he decided against it. He'd rather not have her think he was weak. Gentlemen, after all, were supposed to be the ones to dictate things, not their sisters.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that I married you instead," he continued. "The lady I was supposed to marry is a good friend of my sister's. When we get to London, I'd like to have a few minutes to explain our marriage to Celia before I introduce you to her."

"I understand. You wish to prepare her. That's fine with me. When you're ready, you can introduce us."

"Thank you."

She smiled and kissed him. "You have nothing to worry about. I'm sure everything will be fine. She's your sister. I get along splendidly with you. I have no doubt the same will be true with her."

He hoped she was right. Oh, how he hoped. But he decided to keep this thought to himself. They'd get to London soon enough, and he'd find out how Celia would react then.

Chapter Ten

Almost a week later, the carriage pulled up to Anthony's townhouse, and he thought over the speech he'd prepared for his sister. Each time he rehearsed it in his head, he made minor modifications to it, but overall, it stayed the same.

He just had to be firm as he gave it. He couldn't leave any room for arguments. Celia had to know he was happy with the choice he made, and that was that. There was no changing anything. If she couldn't be happy for him, then that was her problem. He wasn't going to let it dissuade him from enjoying what he and Damara had.

He glanced out the carriage window. Celia would be expecting him any day now since this was the usual time they came back to London. He took a deep breath. Firm. All he had to do was be firm. Celia would just have to accept things.

He turned his attention to Damara and gave her a kiss. However upset Celia was, it was worth it. There was no one better matched for him than the lovely lady sitting next to him. Thanks to her, he didn't have to dread the rest of his life.

The footman opened the carriage door, and Anthony escorted Damara out, wondering if Celia was watching them from one of the windows. On impulse, he scanned them, but he didn't see anyone peering out of them. So most likely, Celia wasn't even aware they'd arrived. Or, perhaps, she was visiting one of her friends. That could very well be the case, too.

"One of the first things we need to do is get you your own clothes," he whispered to Damara as they went up the steps to the townhouse.

"Don't worry. I won't sneak into your sister's bedchamber to steal her things," Damara promised.

He smiled at her joke. She was funny. There was no denying that. Maybe her sense of humor could smooth out any hard feelings his sister might have over this marriage.

The footman opened the door, and Anthony followed Damara into the entryway, listening for the familiar footsteps of his sister. But all was quiet.

He turned to the butler. "Is my sister here?" Anthony asked.

"No," he replied. "She went to visit Lady Eloise."

He frowned. "Oh."

If that was the case, then his sister would be gone until it was time for dinner. He supposed he should have been relieved. This gave him time to show Damara around the place, introduce her to the staff, and get everything arranged for her bedchamber. But it also meant he couldn't just get the matter with Celia resolved.

Well, there was no sense in worrying for the whole day. Anthony turned to Damara. "This is my wife," he told the butler. "Arrange for the maid to get her bedchamber ready, and tell her she'll be filling in for the duty of lady's maid for the time being."

The butler nodded and hurried to do as he requested. Anthony turned to Damara. "After I show you around and introduce you to the staff, we'll go to the dress shop. I'll talk to my sister later."

From there, he made sure everyone knew she was his wife and, therefore, the new mistress of the place. The process went smoothly, and he sensed Damara wouldn't have any trouble fitting into her new life, just as she'd slipped naturally into her role at the country estate.

He'd heard that some marriages had a rough start as the couple adjusted to each other, but that wasn't the case with him and Damara. He couldn't have asked for a smoother transition from bachelor to husband. The only possible ripple would come from Celia.

It took a great deal of effort to put his sister out of his mind as he accompanied Damara to the dress shops. Under other circumstances, he doubted he would have enjoyed watching a lady try on different clothes. He certainly would never have liked tagging along if it'd been Loretta.

But he was still eager to spend as much time with his bride as possible, so he willingly watched as ladies swarmed around Damara to make sure she had a wardrobe suitable for a viscountess. By the time they were done, it was almost time for dinner.

"You'll want to get more dresses over the course of the Season, but what you have now is a good start," he told Damara as they left the last dress shop.

"You're going to spoil me," she replied, glancing at all the boxes the footman and coachman were loading into the carriage.

"If I can't spoil my wife, who can I spoil?" he teased then squeezed her hand affectionately. "Besides, you saw all the clothes my sister had at the estate. She has nearly as much at the townhouse. Compared to her, you barely have anything at all."

"Your sister's very fortunate to have a brother who treats her so well."

"And if I treat her well, have no doubt that I'll do the same for you."

She smiled at him in a way that made his heart warm. It was enough to almost make him forget all about his sister. Almost. Whether he liked it or not, he still had to contend with her.

And that moment came as soon as they arrived at the townhouse. This time his sister didn't even wait for the footman to open the door. She opened it herself and stepped outside to meet them.

"I didn't know you were coming into London today," Celia said. "If I had known, I would have been here when you two arrived."

Her gaze went to Damara at that point, and Anthony held his breath as he struggled for the best way to introduce them. "Um..." He glanced at Damara. "That's Celia, my sister." Chances were, she had already deducted that, but he had to say something, and it was the first thing that came to mind. "Celia, this is my wife, Damara."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Damara said, offering Celia a wide smile. "Anthony had so many nice things to say about you. It's nice to put a face with a name."

Celia smiled in return. "Yes, the butler told me that my brother married. I have to say, I was surprised."

"Celia," Anthony began when he was finally able to remember the speech he'd painstakingly rehearsed, "can we talk in the den?"

"Of course," Celia replied.

She went back into the house, and Anthony and Damara followed. The footman and coachman came in after them, carrying some of the boxes that contained Damara's new clothes.

The butler headed out to the carriage to bring in some more of the boxes. He hadn't realized how many things he'd purchased until he saw the way Celia was eyeing everything the servants were taking upstairs.

"Damara, would you mind if my sister and I talk?" Anthony asked, dragging his attention off of the stunned expression on his sister's face.

"No, I don't mind." Damara gave him an encouraging smile then left him and Celia alone in the hallway.

Before Celia could say anything, he led her to the den. She was in shock. That was to be expected. He should have sent her a missive ahead of time to warn her that he'd taken a bride. It was a lack of judgment on his part. With all the excitement, he hadn't given any thought to writing anything.

He shut the door and turned to his sister. "I know I should have sent you word about Damara. I had all autumn and winter. But the truth is, I didn't know what to say. I had promised to marry your friend, and I knew the news would upset you. Not that I blame you," he quickly added before she had a chance to say anything. "I had every intention of marrying Loretta when I left London, but I met Damara and...and..." He straightened his shoulders. "Well, I married her, and I'm glad I did. With her, I have what our grandparents did. A love match." Since she didn't say anything, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you upset?"

Her stunned expression softened, and she smiled. "No, I'm not upset. Shocked, yes. No one would have suspected you were the type to run off and elope."

"No, I'm not." And under ordinary circumstances, he never would have done anything so rash.

"I can tell you love her."

"Yes, I do. I didn't expect that of a marriage. I had expected it to be something done out of duty, or to save your friend from financial ruin." He shifted from one foot to another. Since he was making his confession, he might as well come out with everything. "I didn't care for Loretta. I would have married her, but it would only have been because of you. You know I don't want to do anything to hurt you. I understand you're worried about Loretta, but we can find someone to help her family. There are plenty of wealthy gentlemen looking for a wife. I'll talk to the bachelors at White's, and I'll go to the balls with you and see who I can find. I'll make it up to you."

She laughed and shook her head. "Anthony, you mustn't act like this. I'm happy for you. Truly, I am."

Not sure he heard her right, he asked, "You are?"

"Yes. You're my brother, and I want you to be happy. I remember our grandparents and how happy they were. I only suggested the match between you and Loretta because she's been in love with you for two years, and I thought since she loved you, you two would eventually have something as precious as our grandparents did."

"No, I don't think we would have. I'm sorry, Celia, but I don't love Loretta, and to be honest, even if I had married her, that wouldn't have changed. I don't think these things can be forced. You either love someone or you don't."

His sister closed the distance between them and gave him a hug. "I understand. There's no need to be sorry. You can't help how you feel."

Relieved, he relaxed. "Thank you."

She released him and gave him a teasing smile, "Now that you've been absolved from guilt, I'm going to hold you to your promise. You said you'd help me find a wealthy gentleman for my friend."

"Yes, and I'll do that."

"And I want it to happen before the Season is over. This is very important."

"Finding Loretta a husband will be my main goal this Season. I'll go to White's tomorrow and start looking for suitable bachelors." Since she seemed content with their arrangement, he ventured, "Would you like to get better acquainted with Damara?"

"I'd love to." She slipped her arm around his. "I must find out what was so fascinating about her that you had to marry her on a whim."

With a smile, he led her to the door. "I don't think it'll take long for you to find out. She's sweet and kind. I believe you two could be friends, if you're willing to give her a chance."

"Of course, I will. Anyone important to you is important to me."

He studied her again, just to make sure she was being sincere, and after a moment, he decided she was. Yes, she was disappointed about Loretta. He couldn't blame her for that. But at least she was willing to put aside her feelings and welcome Damara to the family. That was more than he had hoped for. Better yet, he could stop worrying about telling her the news. It was done now, and he could fully relax and enjoy his new life.

***

Damara was sipping the black tea the butler had brought in when she heard someone coming down the hall. She set the cup down and rose from the settee.

Anthony came into the drawing room, his sister holding onto his arm. The two were close. There was no denying that. And that was good. Maybe it would make things easier between her and Celia.

"I told my sister the good news," Anthony said as he slipped his arm out of Celia's and went over to her. He touched the small of her back and kissed her cheek. "She's happy for us."

"Yes, I am," Celia replied as she poured tea into two more cups. "I can see you two love each other."

"We do," Damara assured her. "Anthony's the most wonderful gentleman in all the world."

Celia smiled and handed Anthony a cup of tea before picking up her own. "I won't argue with you about that."

Since Celia sat down in a chair, Damara took that as her cue to return to the settee. Anthony sat on the settee with Damara, slipping his arm around her waist. Glad for his support, she reached forward and picked up her cup.

"Tell me, Damara," Celia said after she took a sip of her tea, "how did you and my brother meet?"

Damara glanced at Anthony. So he didn't tell her?

As if he could read her mind, Anthony said, "I only told her I met you on my way to the estate and that I married you."

Did that mean he wanted her to fill in the rest of the story? Damara shifted on the settee. How much did she really want others to know about their meeting? She couldn't come out and say she approached him in an act of desperation. That would lead to a lot of other questions, and it'd been awkward enough to avoid telling Anthony anything more than she already had.

"Actually, there's not much to it," Damara slowly began, going over each word before she said it. "I happened to be in one of the towns your brother went to on the way to his estate—that is, Hamilton. As we talked, I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him."

It wasn't the exact truth, but it was close enough. She glanced at Anthony, who seemed pleased with her answer.

"I wouldn't have wanted to marry anyone else," Damara added. And that was the truth. Fortune had been on her side the day she met him.

"Were your parents or another relative also heading for the country when you two met in town?" Celia asked.

No, Damara had not been heading for the country. She was actually leaving it. But that would also bring up some unpleasant questions. "It was because of my parents that I ended up in the same town your brother happened to be in." In a roundabout way. She noted the curious expression on Anthony's face, so she quickly added, "I was taking a walk, and that's when we met. There's nothing more to it than that. It was fate that brought us together."

"It sounds romantic," Celia replied.

"It was."

"So when did you marry?"

There was no getting out of this one. Damara was going to have to answer this honestly. "That same night."

Celia, who was about to take another sip of her tea, put the cup down on the lap and stared at Damara with wide eyes. "Do you mean to tell me that you two married the same day you met?"

"You can't say I made a bad decision," Anthony spoke up with a chuckle. "As you said, it's obvious that we love each other. Sometimes you meet the right person, and everything falls into place."

"Well, yes, I suppose," Celia replied, her gaze going from Anthony to Damara and then back again. "It just seems rather sudden. I mean, you two could have given it one night to think about."

"I think you can just know when you meet the one you're meant to be with," Anthony said. "There was an initial attraction between us, and things just fell into place so easily. It felt right to marry her immediately. I never experienced that with any other lady."

Taking that as her cue, Damara added, "And I never experienced that with any other gentleman."

"Besides," he said, "you can't argue with the result." He squeezed Damara's waist. "She completes me."

After a moment, Celia smiled. "I've never believed in love at first sight, but you're right, Anthony. I can't argue with the result." She took a sip of her tea then cleared her throat. "Tell me, Damara, where is your parents' estate?"

Damara forced herself to sip some tea in an attempt to look at ease. If she gave away the fact that Celia's questions were making her nervous, it'd only make her look suspicious.

"Oh, they live a good four days' journey from London," Damara said. "But enough about me. I'd like to get to know something about you, Celia. You're my husband's sister, after all."

Celia laughed. "You're his wife. That makes you far more interesting than I am. We can talk about me soon enough. Right now, I'd like to know more about the wonderful lady my brother married. You said your parents' estate is a four days' journey from here. What is their estate called?"

Under ordinary circumstances, Damara would never purposely soil a dress, but in this case, she found no suitable way to avoid this topic. Gripping the handle on her cup, she began, "Their estate is called...." She looked down at the floor, let out a shriek, and spilled her tea all over herself. She bolted up and squirmed away from the settee.

"What is it?" Anthony asked, searching the floor for what had disturbed her.

"A mouse. Or a bug. Something passed by my feet," Damara lied, making sure to add a slight shaky tone to her voice.

"A mouse or a bug?" Celia asked, also rising to her feet so she could inspect the floor. "Don't you know which one it was?"

"Well, no. It scampered over my feet so fast," Damara replied.

"I'll have the butler come in to check the room," Anthony said.

"While you do that, I should change," Damara quickly replied, not wanting to give Celia another chance to ask her about her parents.

After she excused herself, she hurried out of the room. The reprieve was a temporary one. Damara wasn't foolish enough to believe Celia wouldn't keep asking about her past. Unlike Anthony, Celia couldn't be distracted. And that could very well pose a problem she hadn't anticipated. It might have been easier if Celia had been too upset over her marriage to Anthony to talk to her. At least then, Celia wouldn't want to talk to her. But as it was, she did, and Damara needed to figure something out so she didn't have to answer Celia's questions.

Chapter Eleven

Once Anthony had the butler set up traps in case there was a mouse hiding in the townhouse, he went to see if Damara was all right. The poor thing had been so frightened. It reminded him of that evening at the estate when he'd spooked her. He had no idea a lady could be scared so easily. The only thing that frightened his sister was the thought of being seen in the same dress another lady was wearing at the ball.

The differences between Damara and Celia were quite remarkable. One such difference just happened to be how ready they were to talk about their pasts. His sister would tell anyone anything they wanted to know about her. Damara, however, was a very private person.

But there might be a good reason for it. Anthony hadn't thought too much over the day he and Damara met since he'd married her. Yes, something had prompted her to wait for a carriage so she could make a bargain with a gentleman.

From time to time, he did think about it, but it was easy to forget those inquiries whenever she was near. What gentleman in his right mind could think of such things when there were other, more important, things to tend to, like holding and kissing her? He'd have to be made of stone to not get swept up in the moment and then make love to her.

On the other hand, he did care about her, and that being the case, he did want to make sure she felt safe with him. So it was with this intent that he knocked on the door of her bedchamber.

She opened the door a crack so he could only see her face. "Is it just you?"

"Yes. I could call for the maid if you need help changing. Or," he added with a mischievous grin, "I could help you myself."

As he hoped, her eyes sparkled. "I'd much rather have you help me."

She opened the door further, and he saw she had already removed her dress, leaving her in only her undergarments.

"It's a good thing we have more clothes for you," he said while she shut the door. "And these will fit you better than Celia's did." He winked at her. "There's no need for others to see what they're missing by not having you as their wife."

She chuckled and gave him a kiss. "You're so much fun to be with, Anthony. It's no wonder the winter passed too fast."

"This Season will pass by just as fast, and then we'll be alone again."

"We will? I thought your sister usually joined you when you go to Hamilton."

"I'm hoping to get her married this Season. Then she can go to her husband's estate."

She went to the new selection of evening gowns hanging in her armoire but glanced back at him. "She's a very pretty lady, and she's certainly pleasant to talk to. I can't understand why she didn't secure a betrothal last Season."

"I think she has her heart set on marrying Corin."

"Is that Lord Steinbeck?" she asked as she sorted through the gowns.

"No. He's Lord Durrant."

"Oh, right. I remember you mentioning him. He's the one who loves to fox hunt."

"Yes. That's the one. Whenever I have a dinner party and he attends, she insists that he must be the one to escort her to dinner."

"Does he return her feelings?"

"I'm afraid he doesn't. He feels the same for her that I felt for Loretta. I'm hoping this Season she'll take other gentlemen more seriously. It does no good to hold onto something she won't get."

She stopped looking through the gowns and turned to face him. "I'm very glad you want to be with me. It was quite the gamble I took in asking you to marry me."

Which brought him to why he'd come up here. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his hand around hers, offering her a comforting squeeze as he did so. "Damara, I gather that it's hard for you to discuss your past, but there's something I'd like to know. Did your parents hurt you? Is that why you were waiting along the road with a valise full of money in search of a husband? Were you anxious to leave them?"

Her gaze went to his hand. He waited for her to answer, but she didn't. He studied her face and noted the struggle in her expression. She was weighing her words before saying them, much as she had in the parlor when Celia had questioned her.

"It's all right," he softly encouraged. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone else."

"I don't like to think about them," she said, still not making eye contact with him. "I'd rather focus on us."

"And we will. You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with. A simple answer will suffice. I just want to know if they're the reason you asked me to marry you."

After a long moment, she said, "Yes. In part."

In part? That meant there was something else.

She finally made eye contact with him. "I know there are things I haven't told you that you probably want to know, but I spent so much of my life miserable that I just want to be happy. What I have with you is something I never dreamed possible. I'll be good to you, Anthony. I won't ever give you a reason to regret marrying me."

This was the first time she'd been transparent about her past. Even without telling him what had happened, he knew she'd been hurt—and deeply so. He didn't know if it'd be best if she went ahead and confronted her demons, but he knew he didn't have the heart to bring her any more pain than she'd already dealt with.

And really, what did it matter? She was with him. She was safe and cared for. She had nothing to worry about now. As she'd said, she was happy. Wasn't it better to let her enjoy what they had? It wasn't like he could go back and change things for her.

With a smile, he squeezed her hand again. "I agree. We should enjoy what we have. I won't trouble you about your past anymore."

To his surprise, she buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him. "Thank you."

"I love you, Damara, and I won't let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

Wrapping her in his embrace, he settled his cheek on the top of her head. He'd have to find a moment alone to speak with Celia and ask her to refrain from asking Damara anything about her past. He was sure Celia would understand. She'd been understanding about his marriage. Certainly, there was no reason why Celia wouldn't want to do everything possible to make Damara happy. Yes, he'd talk to Celia before the day was over.

***

That evening before dinner, Anthony found his sister in the drawing room, sitting on the settee. She was reading an invitation, and from the color of the stationary, he surmised it was from Lady Eloise.

"You have another invite to the Ladies of Grace meeting?" he asked as he came into the room.

She shot him a pointed look. "Anthony, how many times do I have to tell you Ladies of Grace doesn't have meetings? We have social engagements."

With a playful roll of his eyes, he said, "All right. Social engagement."

She swatted his arm as he sat next to her. "Meetings are the kinds of things you gentlemen have when you come together to discuss your business ventures. The most exciting thing that happens is the butler bringing in something to eat or drink."

"I happen to find the actual meeting far more interesting than what we eat or drink."

"Which is why God saw it fit to make you a gentleman and me a lady."

He poured himself a cup of tea and turned to her. "Then it's definitely good you are my sister instead of my brother. If you were my brother, I'd feel an obligation to teach you everything I know."

"I'd die of boredom. I've had to listen to you and your friends talk about your business ventures often enough at dinner parties."

"If that's the case, then why do you insist on going to them?"

"Because you invite Corin."

He was afraid that was the reason. She hadn't come right out and said she wanted to marry him, but he suspected that was her intention. Given the fact that Corin didn't return her feelings, he needed to encourage her to seek out other gentlemen, and since this was to be her second Season, the sooner he did so, the better.

"Celia," he began after he took a sip of tea, "while I'm searching for a suitable husband for Loretta, why don't I do the same for you? Maybe I can find two brothers who are looking for brides. Wouldn't it be ideal if you two married gentlemen from the same family?"

"That's very sweet of you, Anthony, but I already have someone in mind."

"He might not want to marry you."

She gasped. "You can't be serious! I'd make the perfect wife."

"I'm sure for the right gentleman, you would make the perfect wife. But not all gentlemen want the same thing in a wife, just as not every lady wants the same thing in a gentleman."

"And what is there not to want when it comes to me?" she pressed, her eyes narrowed at him.

Immediately, he regretted his choice of words. If he wasn't careful, he was going to get himself into trouble. Offering her a smile, he patted her back.

"You will make a wonderful wife," he assured her. "Any gentleman would be fortunate to marry you. It's just that you shouldn't limit yourself right now. You need to go to more balls and dance with a lot of gentlemen. Let them fight over you." Yes, that was better. "You've been sticking to my dinner parties too much. We'll change that this Season. I'll take you to every ball, and while we're looking for a husband for Loretta, we'll have fun watching the gentlemen fight over you."

"Why would I want that when I already know which gentleman I want?"

"Because..." Because...Because... Come on, Anthony. Think of something. "Because you don't want to make it easy on this gentleman, do you?" No way was he going to ask who she wanted. If she said it was Corin, then she might ask him to help her get him, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. "If this gentleman sees a lot of others vying for your hand, it'll make him appreciate you all the more." Yes! That was brilliant.

He was ready to applaud himself for his quick thinking when she shook her head. "You didn't have to work at all for Damara, and you appreciate her. In fact, you appreciate her much more than you've ever appreciated Loretta, and Loretta did try to make you jealous by having other suitors last Season."

He noticed Loretta had tried that method, and all through the Season, he had hoped she'd take a sincere interest in one of them. It was his misfortune she'd clung to him the way she had.

"By the way," Celia continued, studying his expression, "what do you know about Damara? She wasn't very forthcoming with me when I tried to find out about her."

He shifted on the settee and set the cup back on the tray. This wasn't going to be easy, but he had to do it. He'd made a promise to Damara, and he was going to keep it, even if his sister was likely to think this meant there was something wrong with her.

"Celia, I know this won't be easy for you, but in the future, I would appreciate it if you didn't ask Damara about her past."

"Why not? As her sister-in-law, I'm naturally interested in her."

"Of course, you are. But the thing is... Well, Damara's past is not something she wants to talk about."

"Is it that awful?" she asked.

He was sure it was. If it'd been pleasant, she wouldn't be reluctant to discuss it.

Her eyes widened. "You don't even know it, do you? You married her without knowing anything about it."

How did she figure that out? Was he that easy to read?

She glanced at the open doorway to make sure no one was there then turned her attention back to him. "I can't believe you. Why would you do something so foolish?"

"She's a good wife, Celia."

"And how do you know that? You don't know anything about her except that she's beautiful to look at."

"I spent all winter with her. I know who she is."

"But you don't know where she came from."

"I don't need to know where she came from."

"What if she did something horrible in her past? For all you know, she could have killed someone."

The notion that Damara was capable of killing someone was so ridiculous he had to laugh. Damara wasn't capable of any kind of violence, much less murder.

"I don't see what's so funny," Celia hissed. "You met her in a remote town. She said she was there because of her parents, but did you see them? Did you get their permission to marry her? What was she even doing when you met her?"

"Celia, this is unnecessary. I knew I could trust her when I married her."

"How is that possible? You married her the same day you met her."

"I just knew. It's the same when I do business. I can discern who to trust within a few minutes of talking to someone. It's been that way ever since I was a child." He almost added that the same discerning voice warned him not to marry Loretta, but that would only upset Celia even more.

"That sounds rather foolish to me," she replied, not the least bit happy.

"I know how foolish it sounds to you. We don't look at the world the same way. You don't trust people as easily as I do."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It works for you, and that's fine. But I've learned that when I go with my initial impression, I make the right choice. It's only when I hesitate that I make the wrong one."

And that was what he'd done with Loretta. He'd let Celia talk him into going against his initial impression. If he hadn't done that, he wouldn't have given Loretta false hope.

"Celia, I don't expect you to understand. I know how this all sounds to you. All I ask is that you give Damara a chance. Instead of worrying about her past, can you please get to know her? Spend some time with her. I'm sure once you give her a chance, you'll feel much better about everything."

Celia let out a loud sigh, but after a moment, she relented. "All right. I'll give her a chance."

"Thank you." He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "I know once you spend some time with her, all your worries will go away."

"Maybe," she replied in a way that indicated she didn't believe him.

"They will. You'll grow to like her. She might even become your friend." He stood up. "I should see if she's ready for dinner. We'll be down soon."

"As you wish," she mumbled as she turned her attention back to the invitation.

She wasn't convinced. Not yet. But she would be. Before long, all of her doubts would be resolved.

Chapter Twelve

The next day, Loretta was changing after her morning meal when the butler told her lady's maid she had a visitor.

"Did he say who it is?" Loretta asked as her lady's maid returned to her.

Miranda picked up a yellow ribbon and slipped it into her hair. "It's your friend Celia. She says she has something important to tell you."

Important? Loretta's heartbeat picked up. Anthony was back in London. Now they could proceed with the reading of the banns and get married!

"Well, hurry then," Loretta told Miranda. "I don't want to keep her waiting."

In the mirror, Loretta caught Miranda giving a slight roll of her eyes as she tied Loretta's hair back and secured it with the ribbon.

"What was that for?" Loretta asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"What was what for, Miss Bachman?"

"The way you rolled your eyes."

"I didn't roll my eyes."

Loretta spun around and faced her. "You did so. I saw you." She gestured to the mirror. "You really ought to be careful. I've had my brother fire other lady's maids, and I can have him do the same to you."

Miranda's cheeks turned pink. "My apologies, Miss Bachman. I won't do it again."

"Make sure you don't. Now leave. I'll finish dressing on my own."

While her lady's maid left, Loretta picked up her slippers and put them on. Anthony was back in London. How exciting!

It was unfortunate he didn't come himself, but she supposed Celia wanted to be the one to tell her about his arrival since they'd spent the entire winter planning the wedding. It'd taken them two whole weeks to choose the shade of yellow that would be on Loretta's gown. Loretta had wanted to wear yellow. Yellow was such a pretty color, especially on her. But the question was whether to pick a lighter or darker shade. In the end, they had decided to go with a darker shade since she had strawberry blonde hair.

And so Loretta had the gown made. A gown which, as it so happened, currently hung in the armoire, just waiting to be worn. If only Anthony knew how hard she worked to make everything perfect for their wedding... Then he would appreciate how much she loved him. She wouldn't go through this trouble for just anyone.

Once she was ready, Loretta ran down the hallway, nearly bumping into her older brother who happened to step into the narrow corridor just as she passed his bedchamber.

"What's the rush?" Brad asked with a chuckle as he caught her before she fell. "Did a new dress come in?"

She shoved him away. "Couldn't you hear me coming down the hall?"

"Those slippers on the rug? You can't be serious. You're as quiet as a mouse when you wear them."

With a groan, she said, "When I'm running, they're not that quiet. Pay better attention in the future."

He sighed. "It's a wonder how you got Viscount Worsley to agree to marry you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "He loves me."

Though he didn't seem convinced, he bypassed her and went down the stairs.

Gritting her teeth, she lifted the hem of her dress and followed him. After spending her life with two brothers, she was looking forward to having a sister. All brothers ever did was get in the way. They never understood why shopping and discussing the latest gossip was important.

Celia did, though, which was why the two got along so well. The moment Loretta met Celia at the park two years ago, the two had formed an instant friendship. It worked to Loretta's advantage that her brothers and Anthony never became friends. Her brothers couldn't care less about all the business dealings Anthony liked to do.

But none of that mattered. Anthony was here, and they could get on with the wedding. As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hurried on by Brad and shut the doors to the drawing room.

Then, turning to her friend who was standing by the settee, Loretta let out an excited cry and ran over to her. "Anthony's in London, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Celia replied, not the least bit enthusiastic about it.

Loretta's stomach tensed. "What's wrong? Does he want to break off the betrothal?"

"It's worse than that." Celia plopped down on the settee. "He's married."

No. Surely, she hadn't heard right. He couldn't be married. He mustn't be married. He was only supposed to marry her! "I don't understand. He said he was going to marry me."

"Yes, I know. He apologized profusely for his actions, but it doesn't change anything. He married someone on his way to Hamilton."

"But...but...how? Why?"

"That's just it. I really don't know. All he told me was that he met his wife in a town on his way to the country. They met and knew they belonged together."

"That's all? There wasn't anything else?" Loretta asked.

"No. I only know they married the same day they met."

Loretta's jaw dropped. The very same day? And she was told to wait an entire winter for him?

"I don't understand what's so special about Damara," Celia said.

Damara. So that was the name of the lady he married. Loretta nearly gagged. "Is she more pleasing to the eye than I am?" Loretta asked.

"I don't think so, but she's somehow managed to enchant him. I'd swear she was a witch if I believed in such things. Their relationship makes no sense to me." She crossed her arms and pouted. "It must be her figure. She has an ample bosom. From what I hear, gentlemen like that kind of thing."

"Lady Eloise said as long as they can hold a lady's breast in their hand, they don't care much about the size."

Celia snorted. "What does Lady Eloise know?"

Loretta gasped. "You must not speak of her like that. She'd have you removed from the group."

"Are you going to tell her I said that?"

"Of course not. You're my dearest friend in all the world. I'll take your transgression to my grave."

"And I'll take all of your transgressions to my grave, too. We can be completely honest with each other." She groaned in frustration. "This is why we would have made the best sisters-in-law. We have a friendship better than any other."

"I agree. We do." And it was a bonus that Celia's brother happened to be so handsome.

"If I didn't have my heart set on marrying my brother's friend, I'd marry one of your brothers."

Loretta grimaced. "They're boring. You're better off with Corin."

"And I'll have him. You can be sure of that."

"May you have better luck than I did."

"He fancies me. There's no mistaking the way he looks at me. He has a certain twinkle in his eye. It's the look of love. I'm just waiting for him to be ready for marriage. In the meantime, I need to find out more about Damara. She's hiding something."

Loretta's eyebrows furrowed. "She is?"

"There's something she doesn't want me to know."

"Do you have any idea what that something could be?"

"It has something to do with her parents. When I asked her about them, she spilled tea on her dress and made up a flimsy excuse about a mouse or a bug running across her feet."

"A mouse or a bug?"

Celia nodded. "Can you believe that? Like a bug can be large enough to mistake for a mouse. I saw right through that lie, but Anthony's so naïve he believed her. And more than that, he's not the least bit interested in finding out her secret. In fact, last night he ordered me to stop prying into Damara's past."

"He did?"

Celia nodded. "Right before dinner. I'm telling you, something's wrong with her, and I'm not going to rest until I figure out what it is. But in order to do that, I need to be careful. I can't let her suspect what I'm doing. I'll need to invite her to the Ladies of Grace social engagement."

Loretta felt her heart plummet. She loved that group. If Damara was going to be a part of it, she didn't know if she could bear to stay in it. "You do?"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure Lady Eloise won't let her in. I only want to make Damara comfortable. I want her to think I'm her friend. It's the only way she'll let the truth slip."

In that case, Loretta supposed she didn't mind it. "All right."

"There's no way I'm ever going to be her friend for real," Celia promised. "Marrying my brother was a huge betrayal, and I won't forgive her for that."

"Do you think she knew he was betrothed to me? He might not have told her."

"She knew. Ladies can sense whether a gentleman's available or not. It's instinct." Celia gave Loretta a hug then rose to her feet. "We'll find out the truth. Then my brother will know what a mistake he made."

While he might realize he'd made a mistake, it wouldn't change the fact that he was still married. Nothing was going to change that. And Loretta wasn't sure where that left her.

***

Damara giggled as Anthony kissed her neck. They were in his den, and she was sitting on his lap. Originally, they had begun a game of chess, but before long, she couldn't resist the temptation to start kissing him. And the next thing she knew, he had pulled her onto his lap and continued kissing her. She didn't know whether he remembered the chess game or not, but she was having too much fun to remind him about it.

"I usually enjoy London, but I keep wishing we were still at the estate," he told her. "It was nice when it was just the two of us."

She cupped the back of his neck with her hands. "It's just the two of us right now."

"Yes, but that won't last for long. I promised my sister I'd help her friend find a husband." He caressed her back. "That means I have to go to White's before the day is over."

"At least you no longer have to worry about whether or not she'll accept our marriage."

"Yes, that's true. I suppose going to White's is worth the time spent away from you."

"I think it's wonderful that you'll miss me."

"Wonderful?"

She grinned at his baffled tone. "It's better than being married to someone you can't wait to get away from."

"Yes. There is that." He brought her closer to him and kissed her again.

With a contented sigh, she kissed him back. She imagined that heaven would be a lot like this. Sheer bliss and joy. She'd never thought this kind of happiness possible when she was with her parents. But now that she knew it was possible, she craved more of it.

A knock at the door made her stop kissing him.

He let out a soft groan to express his disappointment then called out, "Who is it?"

"It's Celia," came the familiar voice from the other side of the door.

He glanced at Damara. "She's probably wondering why I haven't already gone to White's."

Damara giggled and gave him a quick kiss before getting off his lap. "The sooner you go to White's, the sooner you can come back to me."

"When you put it that way, I should leave at once." He stood up and patted the small of her back. "I'll be counting down the minutes to when we're together again."

"I will, too."

He went to the door and opened it.

"Usually, you just call for me to come in," Celia told him.

He shrugged. "I thought I'd open the door this time. Did you come to ask me why I'm not at White's looking for Loretta's future husband?"

"No. Actually, I came to talk to Damara. The footman said she was in here with you."

"Yes." He gestured to Damara. "We were playing chess."

Celia looked over at her. "You like chess?"

"It's a pleasant enough game," Damara replied as she walked to the door. "What would you like to talk to me about?"

"I'd like to invite you to a very prestigious group." Celia shot Anthony a pointed look. "It's only for ladies. I'm afraid you're not welcome. Just as we're not welcome to White's."

"I have no desire to know more about Ladies of Grace than I already do," Anthony assured his sister. He gave Damara a kiss on the cheek. "I shall be off to White's. I'll see you later."

Damara nodded and watched as he left the room.

"What a relief," Celia said as she stepped into the room and shut the door. "I thought he'd never leave. It's not fair that he keeps you all to himself." She showed Damara the invitation she was holding. "I have something important to discuss with you. Come."

Intrigued, Damara followed her to the chairs and sat in the one beside her.

"As a member of Ladies of Grace, I am allowed to invite one lady to their next social engagement," Celia said. "This card will let you join me." She held it out to her. "Take a look at it and tell me if you're interested."

Damara accepted the invitation and read it. The script was neatly done, proving that great care had been taken in writing it.

"Lady Eloise wrote it," Celia told her. "She's the daughter of the Duke of Silverton. She's very influential despite her young age. Some say she'll become more prominent than even Lady Cadwalader in a few years. And you know how well-respected Lady Cadwalader is."

No, Damara didn't, but since she was expected to, she smiled and nodded. If Celia suspected she had no idea who anyone was in London, she'd want to ask the questions Damara most wanted to avoid answering.

"Well, it's to your advantage that you know me," Celia continued. "Without me, you wouldn't have a chance to talk to her. She's extremely busy. Her time is very important. But, she'll make time for you because you'll be coming with me. If you can get her approval, then you'll be part of a very influential group in London." Celia smiled. "I don't need to tell you what an honor that would be, do I?"

"No. Of course not."

Damara returned her smile then let her gaze return to the invitation. The social affair was a tea luncheon at Lady Eloise's townhouse. She supposed it would be small enough so Lord Comwright wouldn't find out she was there. She had no desire to become influential in London. Doing so would only draw undue attention to her. But Celia was making an attempt to be her friend, and she didn't dare refuse the offer, especially not since Celia was Anthony's sister.

"I'll be happy to go with you," Damara told Celia.

Celia clapped her hands. "Good! Now, we must pick out gowns for the occasion."

"You want to get a new gown?" Considering how many clothes Celia already had, Damara was surprised Celia felt the need to buy more.

"Both of us will need a new gown," Celia said. "No one must ever go to Lady Eloise's in something she already wore. It must be the first time she wears it. To do otherwise would ruin your chances of becoming a Ladies of Grace member."

"Oh. All right."

"I'm going to take you to my favorite seamstress. She has a way of knowing which type of gown will fit your figure. That way, you'll look your best."

Damara had to admit that sounded tempting. Anthony hadn't voiced a single complaint about her figure, but if she could accentuate her better features, she might be even more pleasing to him. She followed an excited Celia out of the room, wondering how her life might change now that she had made her very first friend.

Chapter Thirteen

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it to London this year," Warren Beaufort, the Earl of Steinbeck, said as Anthony arrived at White's.

Anthony walked over to his friend who was sitting with Corin in the corner of the room. "I finally made it in," Anthony replied.

"Did you purposely delay coming back because of the wedding?" Corin asked, his voice sympathetic.

"No. Thankfully, that wasn't the reason." Anthony pulled up a chair and sat with his friends. "I was delayed because I happened to marry the most wonderful lady last autumn and was reluctant to leave the country."

"Why were you reluctant in returning? Did you have to come without her?" Corin asked.

Anthony smiled. "No. I brought her with me. It's just that it's hard to be away from her." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and added, "My activities alone with her are far more enjoyable than anything London has to offer."

"Those activities can be done in your townhouse," Warren pointed out.

"Yes," Anthony allowed, "but there was a lot more privacy at the estate. There, I could enjoy her in different places. The townhouse is more restrictive."

Corin sighed. "It's times like this that I wish I had a wife so I could complain about where I can or can't enjoy her."

"What's stopping you from getting married?" Warren asked.

"I want to secure more of a fortune before I take a bride," Corin told Warren. "The more money I can bring into the marriage, the better my selection of ladies will be. I don't want to marry just anyone. I want her to be the right one. I want what you have with Iris and what he apparently has with his wife." He turned his gaze to Anthony. "Who is she? She can't be Loretta. Not with the way you dreaded marrying her."

"She's most definitely not Loretta. The two are nothing alike. Her name is Damara, and she makes me glad to wake up every morning. Since I've been with her, I find it hard to concentrate on anything other than her."

"Please tell us that doesn't include money," Warren said, seeming panicked at the thought.

Anthony offered a sheepish shrug. "I'm afraid so. While money is still important, I'd rather spend time with her than talk about investments."

Warren gasped. "How is that possible? Even with Iris, I maintain my enthusiasm for money."

"That's because you and Iris share a mutual interest in the topic."

"I agree," Corin said as he picked up his glass of brandy. He took a sip then added, "You two probably discuss different investment tactics while you're in bed."

"Yes, we do," Warren admitted, "but only when we're done with other things."

Corin smirked. "I don't know. With your enthusiasm for money, I suspect talking about investments is how you two get aroused."

"Come now," Anthony said, offering his friend an amused grin, "you shouldn't give our friend a difficult time. If you do, he might not invite his father-in-law to one of his dinner parties. Or one of ours, for that matter."

"Well, since you put it that way..." Corin looked at Warren, a contrite expression on his face. "I believe you, Warren. You don't think about money all the time."

Though Warren rolled his eyes, he was losing the battle over hiding his smile. Warren cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. "Anthony, when will we get to meet your wife?"

"Any time you want. I can have a dinner party," Anthony offered.

Warren shook his head. "I can't go to one of your dinner parties. Not if your sister will be there."

"Especially not if your sister is there," Corin added.

Anthony should have expected this. Warren had warned him that Iris didn't like Celia, and Corin had no intention of marrying Celia. It made sense the two didn't relish the idea of going to his dinner parties. If only Celia didn't insist on being there when he gave them, then there wouldn't be any problems with it.

"I can have a dinner party," Warren spoke up. "Iris likes the two of you, and her father would probably be willing to attend."

"That would be best," Anthony said. "And I won't mention it to my sister, so Corin, you can go with anyone you wish."

"Can't I come alone?" Corin asked.

"You could," Anthony began, "but it'd be best if you got serious about finding a wife. Celia has her heart set on marrying you."

The color drained from Corin's face. "Did she say that?"

"She said she has someone in mind. She didn't say who, and I didn't ask. But she has no interest in meeting gentlemen in hopes of finding someone else. If you don't find someone quick, she might tighten her grip on you. Celia has a way of getting something if she wants it badly enough."

Corin grimaced. "Very well. I'll turn my attention to the ladies this Season."

"Don't look it as if it's a horrible venture," Warren said. "Marrying Iris was the best thing that ever happened to me. If you want, I can give you the Duchess of Ashbourne's information. She matched me up with Iris."

"I don't know if I'm brave enough to leave my fate in the hands of someone else," Corin replied. "I'd like to pick the lady myself."

"Well, then you better get on it," Anthony said. "There's no telling what Celia will plan if she suspects you aren't willing to marry her." Which reminded him of the main reason he'd come here today. "You both know Loretta Bachman, my sister's friend."

"Oh good heavens! You don't expect me to consider her, do you?" Corin asked, his already pale face getting even whiter.

Anthony resisted the urge to tease him. But if he did, the gentleman might keel over and turn into a ghost right before his eyes. "No, I most certainly do not," he quickly assured his friend. "But I promised Celia I'd help Loretta find a husband." To further put his friend at ease, he added, "I'm also going to be looking for someone for Celia. Even if she might have her heart set on marrying you, it's possible the right gentleman might come along to whisk her off to a vicar."

"That would be wonderful," Corin said.

"But it would help if you two assisted me. I only know so many gentlemen."

Warren shook his head. "Why don't you arrange something with the Duchess of Ashbourne? I'm telling you, she and her friends can make love matches. Their boast is not in vain."

"I can't come out and arrange these marriages," Anthony argued. "It has to seem as if Loretta and Celia are choosing these gentlemen."

"It seems like a needless waste of time to me," Warren said, "but we'll do it your way."

"Thank you," Anthony replied.

"I'll talk with Iris about having the dinner party," Warren began, "and I'll send you both an invitation when she says she wants to have it."

Corin's eyebrow arched. "When she says she wants to have it?"

"When a gentleman gets married, he does well to let his wife make the decisions," Warren replied.

Corin glanced at Anthony. "Is this true?"

Amused, Anthony grinned. "Well, a happy wife makes for a happy home."

"And a warm bed," Warren added.

"Which is even better," Anthony chimed in.

Warren turned his gaze to Corin. "You really are missing out by not being married. It's a wonderful thing to have a wife you can get excited about spending time with. I wish I had married Iris sooner."

"Believe me," Anthony told Corin, "you want to make sure you get the right lady, so bring someone to the dinner party."

"All right," Corin said, though he still seemed reluctant. "I suppose I'll have to find a suitable lady before your sister gets her claws into me."

"You'll be glad you did," Anthony replied. "You can always acquire money, but you can't always get a wonderful wife."

Corin groaned. "I'll have a lady with me when I go to the dinner party. Can we please discuss something more interesting now?"

"Yes, we can," Warren said as he rose from his chair. "Malcolm's here. We can find out if Captain Egan is going back out to sea."

Really? Anthony jumped up, his ears perking up in interest. Despite his young age, Captain Egan showed enormous potential. Never before had Anthony heard of a captain more capable when it came to whaling. Some said he was able to read a whale's mind, and judging by his success at sea, Anthony was inclined to believe it.

"Ah, so marriage hasn't made you lose all interest in money after all," Corin told Anthony in amusement.

"A love match won't make you lose all interest in money, either," Anthony replied.

"I hope not," Corin said. "I have a lot of money to make if I want my estate to be as wealthy as it once was."

"You'll get there," Warren told him. "It's just not going to happen right away like you want it to."

Anthony offered his friend an understanding smile. It wasn't Corin's fault his father had been reckless with the money. And really, it only went to prove how wrong his sister would be for the poor gentleman. Celia didn't know the first thing about self-control. The best thing Corin could do was marry a sensible lady like Damara. The sooner he did that, the better off he'd be.

But for now, their attention should be on what news Malcolm Jasper would bring, so he followed Warren and Corin over to Malcolm.

***

Damara shifted uncomfortably in the chair as Celia instructed the jeweler to retrieve rings to match the necklaces that were already on the counter in front of them. Anthony had already bought her a wardrobe, and she'd just added another gown to his account. The gown was almost half the cost of all her other clothes. She had no idea something to be worn to a simple social outing could cost so much. It'd taken Celia ten minutes to convince her it was worth the expense.

"Lady Eloise isn't just anyone," Celia had told her. "She's the daughter of one of the most influential dukes in London. Because of that, she demands only the best of the best." Then, she'd added, "You don't want to embarrass me, do you?"

"Of course not," Damara had said. The last thing she'd ever do was embarrass Anthony's sister.

"Then you have to wear the gown I picked out for you," Celia had replied.

And that line of reasoning had weakened Damara's resolve. Deep down, she wondered if Celia was making a bigger deal out of this social activity than necessary, but as a new member of the family, she didn't feel at liberty to argue with her. Next time she saw Anthony, she'd explain why she made such a ridiculous purchase and hoped he understood.

But now, she was at the jeweler's and Celia was trying to convince her to buy even more items.

"Red looks good on you," Celia said as the jeweler set out an assortment of rings decorated in rubies and diamonds. "I would love to wear the color, but alas, that color doesn't complement me."

"An afternoon social doesn't seem like the right place for a lot of jewelry," Damara replied as she watched the jeweler match up the rings with the necklaces and earrings. "Maybe if I just wore a necklace-"

Celia shook her head and held up her hand to stop her. "A lady can never have enough jewelry. Not when she's visiting Lady Eloise. When you meet her, you'll be glad I insisted on this."

Damara had no idea who Lady Eloise was, so she had to take Celia's word for it. "All right." She turned to the jewelry that was in front of her. With a glance at Celia, she asked, "Will you be getting jewelry as well?"

"Of course. I wouldn't dare show up without the proper accessories."

Damara nodded. Given the assortment of clothes and jewelry Celia already owned, she believed it. After a moment of inspecting the selection, Damara chose one of the sets that best matched her style.

Celia let out a slight gasp.

Damara looked over at her.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," Celia began, "but if you show up in something so inexpensive, Lady Eloise might wonder if my brother has sufficient funds to provide for you. Try not to think of yourself when making these kinds of decisions. Think of my brother. Do you want him to be the laughingstock of London?"

Damara's cheeks warmed. "No."

Celia scanned the jewelry on the counter then pointed to the set that cost a lot more than the one Damara had selected. "This would be much better. Lady Eloise will be impressed with it, and since it's not as expensive as most of the jewelry here, you can be more at ease with putting the cost on my brother's account. It's a good compromise, don't you agree?"

"Well, yes. That makes sense." And Damara did feel significantly better with not going for anything more expensive. Celia was right. This would make a good compromise. "All right. I'll take that set," she told the jeweler.

Celia rewarded her with a wide smile. "You'll be glad you took my advice when I introduce you to Lady Eloise and the other ladies in the group."

Damara hoped she was right, but more than that, she hoped Anthony wouldn't be upset.

"Everything will be fine," Celia said, as if she could read her mind. "My brother makes these types of purchases all the time. What's the point in having money if you can't enjoy it?"

Then, to probably demonstrate how necessary it was to spend money, Celia selected her own set of jewelry, which was more expensive than the one she picked out for Damara. That made Damara feel a little bit better. If Celia spent this kind of money while shopping, then Anthony shouldn't be shocked when he saw how much Damara spent. She released her breath. Hopefully, he wouldn't be shocked. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that he would be perfectly all right with the purchases she'd made today.

Chapter Fourteen

Damara paced Anthony's bedchamber that evening before dinner. He had said he was going to White's, but he hadn't said when he'd be back. She had no idea how long gentlemen spent at gentlemen's clubs.

As the minutes passed, the knots in her stomach tightened, but for an entirely different matter than how much she'd spent that afternoon. Celia had been nice to her that afternoon. She'd even avoided asking her anything about her past. But Damara didn't want to have dinner alone with her. She wanted Anthony to be there when they ate.

Something about Celia made her uncomfortable. It was similar to the way she felt around Lord Comwright. The problem was, Damara couldn't pinpoint why. Celia had gone out of her way to be nice to her. Lord Comwright had never done such a thing. From the beginning, he'd let her know he had nothing but contempt for her. But, as he'd put it, she was solely for producing heirs so what did it matter if he liked her or not?

She shivered despite the warmth in the room. She got away from him. That was all that mattered. And now that she'd consummated her marriage with Anthony, no one could make her go back to him.

The door opened, and she turned in time to see Anthony enter the room. With a smile, she ran over to him and hugged him.

Returning her hug, he laughed. "I might have to spend more afternoons away from home if I'm going to get this kind of welcome."

"Don't you dare spend too much time away from me," she replied, the knots in her stomach relaxing. "I like having you around."

He kissed her. "I like being with you, too." He pulled away from her and went over to his armoire. "I should get ready for dinner. Celia's already waiting for us downstairs, and I can see you're ready to eat."

"Yes." And now that he was here, she didn't have to dread going through the dinner alone with her. "I was hoping you'd make it back in time to eat with us."

"I wouldn't miss a meal with you for anything." He sorted through his clothes. "Oh," he glanced her way, "that reminds me. I'd like to introduce you to some of my friends. I told them about you today." He winked. "I can't help but brag that I have the best wife in London."

She smiled at the compliment. "I don't mind it if you brag."

"I didn't think you would. But now that I mentioned you, I want to show you off."

"Oh?"

Did this mean he wanted her to go to a ball? She knew people went to balls during the Season. Her parents had told her about those, but they had never attended them. At least they hadn't for as long as she could remember. But Lord Comwright had mentioned going to a ball during one of the very few conversations she'd had with him.

Anthony selected the outfit he wanted to wear for dinner and went over to her. "Warren is going to talk to his wife about having a dinner party at their townhouse."

Hoping she heard right, she asked, "Dinner party?" As in a private affair?

"Yes. It would be us, Corin, the lady Corin brings, Warren and Iris, and Warren's in-laws. Warren's sister might even attend since she's old enough."

Good. That would be a small affair. She could handle that. She wasn't sure what she was going to do if he mentioned going to a ball, but she'd deal with that if the situation came up. For now, she was being asked to a dinner party with people she didn't know, and that would be an easy thing.

"It sounds like fun," she said. "I'm looking forward to it."

"I thought you might say that." He patted the small of her back and kissed her. "I should change before Cook thinks I don't want to eat his food."

"Since I'm here with nothing to do, I'll be happy to help."

"I certainly don't mind the assistance."

She caught the twinkle in his eye and grinned as she began to unfasten the buttons on his waistcoat. "Anthony, I have something to tell you."

"You don't like my taste in clothes?"

For a moment, she thought he was serious, but then she caught the playful expression on his face. "I love your taste in clothes. You aren't gaudy like some gentlemen." Most notably, Lord Comwright who wore the most outrageous color combinations she'd ever seen. Even now, her eyes hurt at the memory of them. "No, I have something else to tell you." She paused in the middle of unfastening the last button. "I went shopping with your sister today."

"And you made it back here before I did? Celia's been known to stay out all day when she's buying something."

"It didn't take long, but then she said she already knew what type of gown she wanted." She finished unfastening the button then met his gaze. "I got a gown and some jewelry that were much too expensive. I should have stood firm and told your sister no, but I didn't know how. I can return them if you want."

With a smile, he brought his hands up to her shoulders and squeezed them. "Why do you think I'd be upset to find out you spent some money today?"

"Because it's a lot of money." She told him how much everything cost and waited for him to yell at her.

"It sounds like the kind of shopping day my sister often has," he said then kissed her. "It's all right. I'm not upset. I'm used to her extravagant purchases. And if I'm willing to spend that kind of money on her, then why wouldn't I do the same for you?"

She watched him as he removed his waistcoat. Was it really that easy? He wasn't going to express his disappointment in her? He wasn't going to say he wished she'd be more sensible?

He loosened his cravat and looked at her. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I can see you don't believe me. Don't you remember all of those clothes my sister has at Hamilton?"

"Yes," she slowly replied.

"All of those clothes and the ones she has here are much more than anything you own. Feel free to spend as much as you want."

"But I don't like spending that much."

"Then you don't have to. I don't spend that much money. Celia does, but then I assumed that's how ladies are." He paused then added, "I also have trouble saying no to Celia. She can be very convincing when she wants to be. I know how it is."

So it was going to be that easy. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry with relief.

He removed his cravat. "You know, it's much more fun when you're the one taking off my clothes."

Laughing, she continued to help him change for dinner.

***

The next morning after Damara, Anthony, and Celia finished eating, Celia asked Damara if she'd spend some time with her. "I want to help you know what to do when we're at Lady Eloise's," she explained as they rose from the table. She glanced at Anthony. "Do you mind?"

Anthony glanced at Damara, his expression indicating that he wanted to know if it was something she wanted to do.

"It might be a good idea," Damara said. "I would like to help your sister make a good impression." Also, it might prepare her for Warren's upcoming dinner party.

"All right," Anthony told Celia. "But I want to take Damara to Hyde Park today so make sure this doesn't take long."

Damara tried to think over whether or not Lord Comwright ever went to Hyde Park. He'd never mentioned it. But even so... "Do a lot of people go there?"

"Yes," he said, "but there won't be a lot of people there so early in the day. Afterwards, I thought I'd take you to the museum."

Celia yawned. "You're going to bore your poor wife to death. It's a good thing I'm around."

Since they would be going early in the day to the park and Lord Comwright had no use for museums, Damara relaxed. The day's activities should be safe ones.

With an amused grin, Anthony kissed Damara. "I'll be in the den. Let me know when you're ready."

Celia waited until he left before she smiled at Damara. "I can't believe how enchanted my brother is with you."

"I think the world of him. He's the perfect husband."

"You two seem to be well matched." Celia turned to the butler. "Bring tea and scones to the drawing room." She waved to Damara. "We'll be more comfortable in there."

Damara put her hand over her stomach as she followed Celia out of the room. "I don't know if I can eat anything else. I'm full."

"You didn't eat much."

"Well, no, but I wasn't all that hungry."

Celia shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I only asked for the tea and scones so we could practice how to eat and drink while at Lady Eloise's."

"Oh?" Was there a right or wrong way to eat and drink? If only Damara had been able to prepare for a Season. Then she might not feel so inadequate about these things.

"There are minor details to tend to, that's all."

"What kind of details?"

"Things like taking small bites of food instead of large ones, sipping a drink instead of gulping it down, and swallowing one's food before talking."

Damara frowned and her steps slowed. "Do I do those things?"

Celia offered her a smile and slipped her arm around Damara's. "Think nothing of it. We'll have you eating and drinking properly before the day is over."

Heat rising in her face, Damara nodded. "Thank you for helping me." No wonder her mother had often said she was an embarrassment. What other things did she do that were wrong?

They reached the drawing room, and Celia led her to the settee. "You're my sister-in-law. Of course, I'm going to help you. Lady Eloise is going to be impressed with you. I'll make sure of that."

"I do want to make a good impression."

"You will. After today, you will be able to walk into any social situation with ease. Now, let's start by learning how to sit."

"Learning how to sit?" She thought they were only going to work on eating and drinking.

"We have to work on everything." Celia turned to face her. "As it is, you have a tendency to plop down in a chair. But, there is a more graceful way to do it. Watch me." Lifting the edge of her dress so that the hem was a bit higher, Celia gently settled onto the settee. She straightened her back and clasped her hands on her lap. "That's all there is to it." She gestured for Damara to sit. "You do it."

"All right."

Damara lifted the edge of her dress, her hands shaking as she did so. The image of her mother's disapproving scowl flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath and released it. Her mother wasn't here. She was safe. Celia was trying to help her. She wasn't trying to criticize her like her mother had. Hoping Celia didn't pick up on her apprehension, she smiled then slowly sat down. She forced her shoulders back and clasped her hands on her lap.

"Not so stiff," Celia said with a chuckle. "You're going to an enjoyable social engagement, not to the gallows."

"Sorry." Damara let her shoulders drop slightly, and since Celia seemed happy with it, she felt better. Good.

The butler came in and placed the tray full of tea and scones on the table in front of them.

"Thank you," Damara told him.

"Close the door on your way out," Celia added as he left.

Once he closed the door, Celia looked at Damara. "It's not wise to thank him."

Damara looked over at her. It wasn't? "Why not?"

"Because he's a servant. His job is to do these things for us." Celia leaned forward and poured tea into their cups. "If you thank him, you'll make him think he's equal to you. He's not. You are a viscountess. You are someone important. He's a lowly servant. The distinction needs to be clear so he doesn't get lazy. Lazy servants aren't of any use to us."

"Oh."

"I'm amazed my brother hasn't taken the time to explain this to you." Celia lifted her eyes heavenward and sighed. "I suppose I can't blame him." Her gaze returned to Damara, and she smiled. "Love makes a gentleman forget things." Celia placed the cup on its saucer then held it out to her. "You have a tendency to grab things, so we should do this correctly. Cup your hands together, palms up."

Damara did as she said, and Celia put the cup and saucer in her hands.

"Excellent," Celia cheered. "Now, use your finger and thumb to lift the cup by the handle, and take a sip. I'll demonstrate."

Damara watched, and it seemed to her Celia didn't have enough time to take a sip.

"You never know if someone is going to ask you something or if someone will say something that makes you laugh," Celia explained. "Either way, a very small sip will ensure you don't embarrass yourself by spitting out your drink."

"I hadn't thought of that." Taking a very tiny sip made sense when Celia put it that way.

"I don't think many ladies do. You'd be surprised at how many don't drink their tea properly. But now that you know the reason a sip is best, it should help you remember it."

"Yes, it will. I won't forget," she promised.

Since Celia watched her expectantly, Damara picked up her cup. The liquid in it was almost at the brim, which wasn't good considering the fact that her hand was still trembling. She took another deep breath and willed herself to steady the cup.

Why would anyone want to be with you? her mother would ask. You're such an awkward child. Go on to your room before you embarrass yourself.

Damara released her breath. She could do this. She didn't have to be awkward. Just because she'd been that way as a child, it didn't mean she had to always be that way. She was grown up. She was a lady with a husband. Her hand steadied. Encouraged, she took a sip, making sure to keep it as tiny as possible.

"Excellent!" Celia said, startling her.

The hot tea spilled out of the cup and onto her dress. "I-I'm sorry," Damara quickly said and set the cup and saucer down so she could grab a cloth napkin. She wiped up the tea.

"Well, I suppose we can't be graceful in everything. I'll just make sure to tell Lady Eloise she should only fill your cup halfway. We'll come up with an excuse. I know! We'll tell her you're not thirsty. We'll say you drank more than enough before we arrived at her residence. There's no need for her to know you're clumsy."

"Yes, that would be best." It was a shame. Damara had thought she'd succeeded.

"Don't be disheartened. You're just not as graceful as other ladies. We'll find ways to hide that little flaw. Eating should be easier. There's no liquid to spill." She gestured to the scone. "I'll hand it to you, but when I do, make sure to have your palm facing up, so I can place it there. The last thing you want to do is reach out and grab it in an unladylike manner. Lady Eloise might think my brother doesn't feed you. You wouldn't want her to think that of my dear brother, would you?"

"No, of course not. Your brother has seen to my every need from the moment I met him."

Celia's eyebrows rose. "Anthony asked me not to question you about the past, but do you mind if I inquire about your thoughts of him? I would like to know what it was that made you say yes to his proposal. Was it something he said or some way he acted?"

Damara bit her lower lip. Anthony hadn't proposed. She had. And he hadn't had to say or do one single thing to make her do it. She'd been desperate to get away from Lord Comwright once she was free of her parents. If she had married him, it would have been worse than being with them. At the time, she hadn't given any thought to who she might end up with. She only had the hope that he'd be better than Lord Comwright.

"Damara?" Celia asked, her expression indicating that she wouldn't let the matter go unless Damara said something.

Damara took a moment to compose her thoughts before she answered, "Your brother happened to be available to talk to, so we had a conversation." Yes, that was a good way to begin. "As we talked, I learned that he would make a suitable match for marriage." After another pause, she shrugged. "I just knew he was the one." She smiled, hoping the answer would suffice.

Celia returned her smile. "He's my brother, so naturally, I know how likable he is."

"Yes, he is."

She'd gotten lucky that way. She could have easily ended up with someone like Lord Comwright. She inwardly shivered. It had to be fate that brought her to Anthony. There was no other way to explain her good fortune.

"Well, the important thing is that you two share a love match," Celia said as she picked up a scone and placed it on a neatly folded cloth napkin. "Such marriages aren't common in London."

"They aren't?"

Celia shook her head. "Most are done out of necessity. In fact, Anthony was to marry my friend whose family has been struggling financially. Did he tell you that?"

"Yes. He made brief mention of a betrothal to another lady, but I didn't know about that when I married him."

"You didn't?"

"No." She studied Celia, trying to gauge whether or not she was upset. "I'm sorry, Celia. I certainly don't want to see one of your friends suffering financially because of me."

"It isn't your fault. You didn't know the situation. For some reason, he didn't tell you."

Probably because Damara had shocked him by showing him a valise full of money and blurting out her proposal.

"No doubt he was taken in by your beauty," Celia said. "I adore my friend. She's like a sister to me. But even I can see how beautiful you are. Plus, you're well-endowed in certain areas." She glanced at Damara's chest before making eye contact with her. "I might be a lady, but I'm not stupid. Gentlemen are led by a lady's looks more than anything else."

Damara frowned. Did Celia think there was nothing more to her than her looks?

Once again, Celia was smiling at her as if nothing was wrong. "At least my brother's happy." She held the scone toward her and beckoned for Damara to take it.

Damara stared at it for a moment, wondering if she should decline the invitation to Lady Eloise's social engagement. But if she did that, then what would Celia think of her?

She'd think you were pitiful, her mother would say. She'd assume the only thing you have to offer her brother is your body. Is that what you want? You should go and conduct yourself like a lady. Prove to her that Anthony didn't make a mistake in marrying you instead of her friend.

Damara took the scone, her hand once again shaking. She could only pray Celia didn't notice. It wouldn't do well if Celia knew she could intimidate her the same way her mother could. She blinked back her tears and listened as Celia instructed her on how to take a ladylike bite.

Chapter Fifteen

An hour later, Anthony was in the middle of reading a book when someone knocked on his door. Assuming it was Damara, he called out for the person to enter, placed the book down, and rose to his feet. But instead of Damara, Celia was the one who came into the room.

"I think the lesson went very well," Celia said as she went over to him. "Lady Eloise will be pleased with Damara."

He pressed his hand over his heart and feigned a relieved sigh. "As long as Lady Eloise is pleased, all is right with the world."

She let out a gasp then gave him a playful pat on the arm. "That's not funny."

He laughed. "Who cares what Lady Eloise thinks? I'm already pleased with Damara."

"Lady Eloise will be meeting her in three days. First impressions are everything, especially in London where everyone talks. If you scrunch up your nose the wrong way, you risk public disgrace."

"It's not that bad."

"It most certainly is. You don't pay attention to what goes on because you're so busy with those boring business ventures."

"It's my business ventures that keep you in the finest clothes London has to offer," he pointed out.

She considered his words for a moment. "Since you put it that way, you may continue to remain oblivious to the subtleties of social propriety."

"I thought you'd see it my way." He glanced at the doorway. "Where's Damara?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well, so she went to lie down."

"I should go see her."

She grabbed his arm before he could leave. "When a lady says she isn't feeling well, she needs time alone."

"Is it something serious? Did she look sick?"

"No. She's fine. She's tired, that's all. Learning how to act correctly when around Lady Eloise takes a lot out of a person. Lady Eloise is difficult to please. Loretta and I are fortunate that we met with her approval. You remember all the lessons we had to take on etiquette."

Even though he'd consented to paying for those lessons a year ago, he still felt the financial sting of the whole thing. "My ledger remembers that, too."

Those silly lessons on how to properly sit, talk, and other such nonsense had cost more than half of her wardrobe. And somehow she'd talked him into paying for Loretta's lessons, too, since her older brother wouldn't do it. At the time, he'd thought her brother had said no because he knew the classes were a waste of time. When Celia confessed that Loretta's family was struggling to make ends meet, he realized Loretta's brother had said no because he couldn't afford it. Which reminded him...

"I have good news," he said. "There is a gentleman at White's who's done very well for himself. I think he might be a good match for Loretta."

"Really? Who is he?" Celia asked, looking at him in interest.

"Viscount Erandon. Warren suggested him. We do business with his younger brother, Captain Egan. He has as much wealth as I do, and he's highly respectable."

She wrinkled her nose. "A viscount?"

"What's wrong with a viscount? I happen to be one."

"Yes, but you're my brother. A marriage to you would have secured Loretta's family's future and made us sisters. Viscount Erandon has to offer more than money if it's to be something Loretta can be happy with."

"Considering her financial straits, I don't see how she can be picky."

"It's not about being picky. It's about choosing the best match. From where I stand, he has nothing else to offer than money. I've never even heard of him. The gentleman should be someone I've at least heard of, Anthony."

"If you had heard of him, it would have been because he did something worthy of a scandal. Believe me, you don't want that."

"You said his brother is a captain?"

He nodded. "One of the best whaling captains you'll find anywhere."

She shuddered. "I just can't suggest the match to Loretta. Whales are disgusting."

"Whales provide us with a lot of things we use. Besides, Loretta's not going to marry the captain. She'll marry his older brother."

"There's no way it can happen. Lady Eloise won't allow it. Captains are dirty and crude. We might need the things they bring us, but they're better off at sea where we don't have to be around them."

"Captain Egan is neither dirty nor crude. He's clean and decent, and he runs a good ship. You wouldn't know he's a captain if you saw him."

"I'm sure I'd smell the sea on him, if not all that whale blubber."

"Celia, I can't believe you're such a snob."

"A snob?" She stared at him as if she couldn't believe she'd heard him right. "I'm a single lady fighting for respectability. My high social standing is the one advantage I have over most of the other ladies in London. That makes me attractive for marriage."

"I know what you're saying, and yes, it is ideal if a titled gentleman can have a wife who won't bring him shame. But Celia, that doesn't mean you're at liberty to find fault with other people."

"It's not me who's finding fault with anyone. The Ton does that. If I were to align myself with people of ill-repute, I'll never secure a marriage to Corin."

Forgetting all about Captain Egan, he asked, "Corin?"

"Yes. I've been to enough dinner parties to know he doesn't want anything scandalous touching him. I'm sure the good captain is fine as long as he's making you both money, but I can't risk Corin's displeasure by being friends with the wife of a captain. That wouldn't look good to Lady Eloise. I've been careful for the past year to show him I'm worthy to be his wife. I think it's working, too. He gets the most adorable twinkle in his eye whenever I'm around."

That twinkle wasn't at all what she thought it was. It was more like the spark of fear and apprehension.

"I know he's waiting until he has more money before he gets married," she continued. "It's why he hasn't expressed his love for me yet."

"Celia, you can't base all of your hopes on one gentleman. What if you're wrong?"

She most definitely was wrong. But how could he tell her that without breaking her heart? She was his sister. The last thing he wanted to do was put her through any kind of pain.

"I'm not wrong," Celia replied. "I'm very much right. You'll see when he proposes."

Oh goodness! She was serious. She honestly believed Corin was going to marry her. Corin was going to be horrified when he learned about this. But maybe it was a good thing. It might be the incentive Corin needed to get serious about finding a wife.

"Anyway," Celia shrugged, "I'm going to visit Loretta. We have a lot to talk about before we go to Lady Eloise's. It's not easy to prepare for what topics to bring up when we're around someone so important." She kissed his cheek. "Wish me luck!" Then, with a wave, she hurried out of the room.

***

Loretta didn't feel like answering when someone knocked on the door of her bedchamber. She pulled the blankets over her head and dug deeper into the bed. Ever since she found out Anthony had married someone else, she could barely bring herself to eat, let alone get out of bed.

The door opened and soft footsteps crossed the room. "Miss Bachman," her lady's maid said, "Miss Barlow is here to see you."

Celia was here? Loretta pulled down her blankets and looked over at Miranda. "She is?"

Miranda nodded. "She said she'd like to speak with you. What should I tell her?"

"Tell her I'll be down in a few minutes. Then hurry back up and help me dress."

After her lady's maid left, Loretta got out of bed and went to the washbasin where she washed her face. She inspected her face in the mirror. Her eyes were still puffy and red from crying. She made an attempt to smile, but it came out as a wince. Oh, what a miserable sort she was. She didn't know if she could act happy when she went to Lady Eloise's later that week.

Miranda returned to the bedchamber, so Loretta quickly got dressed. Celia was the only person she could stand to see when she was sad. But then, Celia was the only person who understood her, and Celia, more than anyone, knew how much she wanted to marry Anthony. A gentleman like Anthony didn't come along every day, after all. And since he had married someone else, she didn't know what to do. Was there anyone else in London who could fill the void he'd left? Honestly, she doubted it.

By the time she was ready to see her friend, she felt a little better. But only a little. Once downstairs, she found her friend sitting in the drawing room, drinking some tea.

When Celia looked over at her, her eyes widened. "You look horrible. What happened?"

"Your brother married another lady," Loretta replied as she shut the doors. She went over to the settee and sat next to Celia. "I had no idea a broken heart could be so painful."

"Oh dear." Celia put the cup down and turned to give her a hug. "I knew you cared for him, but I didn't realize how much you loved him. You must love him as much as I love Corin."

"I do. I really do." Loretta fought to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway.

Celia continued to hold her as she cried. She'd thought by now she should be out of tears. She'd cried so much in the past few days that she'd almost filled an entire basket with handkerchiefs to wash. But there was something in the way Celia patted her back that prompted Loretta to cry again.

"How did I miss the fact that he didn't love me?" Loretta asked through her tears. "I'm such a fool."

Celia pulled away from her and gave her a handkerchief. "You aren't a fool. He is. You would have made him an excellent wife."

"That's what I thought, too, but apparently, we were wrong."

"No, we weren't. We were right. You would have. Neither one of us could've known Damara would come along and trick him the way she did."

Loretta wiped the tears from her eyes. "You think she tricked him?"

"Of course. You can't trust her. She doesn't share anything about her past, and if you ask her something, she gives a vague answer. I think she took advantage of his innocence. I know for a fact he was a virgin when he left London. He's not like other gentlemen who seek out mistresses. He's too busy with his business ventures for that. I think she realized how much money he had and got him into bed. He felt so guilty that he had to marry her. You know how honorable he is. He couldn't leave her in case she'd conceived his child."

"Well, I suppose it could have happened that way."

"It most definitely happened that way. I've seen the way he looks at her. It's not love. It's lust. But gentlemen are too stupid to know the difference." Celia shook her head. "It's disgusting the way she has him wrapped around her finger. I never should have let him leave London without marrying you. That was the worst mistake I ever made. I'm sorry, Loretta."

"You did nothing wrong. As you said, she probably seduced him."

"She did. She never tells him anything about herself. All she has to do is give him a smile and take him to the bedchamber, and he forgets that he doesn't know anything about her." After a moment, Celia let out a frustrated sigh. "I wish my brother would think more with his head than his male part."

Loretta wiped another tear away and swallowed the lump in her throat. "There's nothing to be done about it now. They're already married."

"Unfortunately, that's true. We're stuck with her whether we like it or not. Earlier today, I gave her lessons on how to conduct herself when she's at the Ladies of Grace social engagement."

Loretta grimaced. "You didn't."

"I had to. Even if I don't like Damara, I can't have her embarrassing me. Lady Eloise will never trust me to bring another guest if Damara doesn't know how to act. Damara hasn't been brought up correctly. She had manners no better than a dog. She gulped her drinks, shoved food into her mouth as if she was starving, plopped down in chairs like an impatient child, and did other things that aren't acceptable at all." Celia closed her eyes and shook her head. "I almost feel sorry for her. She really had no idea how unladylike she was."

"Maybe she shouldn't go with us to Lady Eloise's." Loretta hadn't been looking forward to seeing Damara anyway, so it would suit her just fine if Celia un-invited her.

"I have to bring her along," Celia argued. "I want to find out what her secret is. To do that, I need to make her feel as if I'm her friend so she'll confide in me."

"In that case, maybe I should stay home."

"No. You can't! It won't be any fun if you're not there."

Loretta wanted to protest. What good would she be when she was miserable? But one look at her friend weakened her resolve. Celia had done so much for her over the years. Whenever Loretta had needed something, Celia never hesitated to do it.

"All right, I'll go," Loretta finally agreed.

"Good." Celia gave her another hug. "This will be the only time Damara will go to that group. I promise. I taught her enough about improving her manners so she won't embarrass me, but I can't see how she's polished enough for Lady Eloise to offer her membership into the group."

Well, when Celia put it that way, it seemed doable. All Loretta had to do was sit in the same room with Damara one time. Loretta could handle one time. At least, she hoped she could. In three days, she'd know for sure. But already, she was dreading it.

Hiding her apprehension about the social engagement, Loretta turned her attention to Celia as she described the gown she'd bought for the occasion.

***

Anthony waited for an hour to go to his bedchamber so he could talk to Damara. When he got there, he found her asleep on the daybed. A blanket was pulled up to her chin, and her chest was gently rising and falling. She looked so peaceful. Celia had been right. Damara had needed time alone. For once, he was glad he'd listened to his sister.

He went to the room off to the side of the bedchamber and worked on the ledger until he heard her get up. Marking his place, he closed the large book and went to greet her.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked as she folded the blanket.

She glanced over at him. "I didn't know you were here."

"I came in while you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you." He kissed her. "Celia told me you needed time to rest."

"Yes, I did." She finished folding the blanket and placed it on the daybed. "It wasn't until I was up here that I realized I hadn't had my monthly flow last week when I was supposed to. I don't know if it's too soon to tell for sure or not, but I think I'm with child."

"That's wonderful news." He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again. "I suspected something was different over the past few days."

"You did?"

"You haven't had as much of an appetite."

"Well, yes, but I thought it was nerves. Your sister knows so much about how to act in London. She's the most graceful person I've ever met. I don't feel like I measure up to her."

He chuckled. "My sister took expensive lessons in order to impress the Ton. I think she puts too much emphasis on how to act with people who don't really matter." He tucked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up so their gazes met. "I like you just the way you are."

"You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. I couldn't be happier. You're perfect. You don't have to change anything."

"And you like me? Not just my body, but the person I am?"

"I like everything about you. Though," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I will admit, your body is a very nice addition to the rest of you."

She giggled and slipped her arms around his waist. "Sometimes I miss being at Hamilton when it was just you and me."

"We'll go there again this winter," he promised. "But from what you told me, it won't be just the two of us. There will be another one."

"I hope it's a boy. I'd like to give you an heir."

"It doesn't have to be a boy. I'll be happy with a girl." Feeling playful, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "If we have a girl, we'll have more incentive to try for an heir."

With a grin, she said, "I don't think you need more incentive to take me to bed."

"I'm a gentleman with needs." He brought his hands to her behind and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll take any excuse I can to have you wrap those beautiful legs around my waist."

"You don't need an excuse to do it right now."

"In that case," he picked her up, "I should take you up on your offer while you're making it." Then he took her to bed.

Chapter Sixteen

Two days later, Damara was fiddling with the gloves on her lap as she waited in the drawing room to go to Lord Steinbeck's dinner party. She would have waited in her bedchamber for Anthony to get her, but she was too nervous.

As Celia passed by the room, Damara offered her a wave. Celia halted then came over to the settee, peering down at Damara in surprise. "You're all dressed up. Is there a ball tonight I don't know about?"

"No." Damara scooted over so Celia could sit next to her. "I'm waiting for your brother. He's taking me to Warren's—that is, Lord Steinbeck's—dinner party."

"Anthony didn't mention anything about Lord Steinbeck having a dinner party."

"He said it was going to be more of a business meeting than an actual party." She shrugged. "I took that to mean it's going to be boring."

"I've had to suffer through a dinner party with Lord Steinbeck. And you're right. It's going to be boring."

Celia giggled, but since Damara had no idea why Celia was amused, she was in no position to appreciate the joke. Nor was she sure she wanted to. She, after all, wasn't all that interesting, either. Maybe Celia found her boring as well but was too polite to say so.

"Who else will be there?" Celia asked.

"Oh, um, let me remember." Damara thought over the people Anthony had mentioned. "Miss Beaufort will be there."

"Miss Beaufort?"

"Lord Steinbeck's younger sister."

"I didn't know he had a younger sister."

"Well, she hasn't been in London that long. Anthony said she came to live with him late in the Season last year."

"Really? How old is she?"

"I think Anthony said she's seventeen."

"In that case, it's no wonder she escaped my notice. She's not having a Season yet. Therefore, she's not worth the attention. Who else will be there?" Celia asked.

"Oh, um, the Duke and Duchess of Hartwell will be there, probably because they're Lord Steinbeck's in-laws. Also, there will be a captain. Captain Egan, if I recall right. Anthony seems rather excited about the captain. The captain hunts for whales."

Celia put her hand up to her mouth and pretended to yawn. "You poor thing. I should send you with a pillow. That way you can take a nap to help pass the time."

Damara was inclined to agree with Celia on this point. She had no real interest in the captain's venture, either.

"Is that all the people who'll be there?" Celia asked.

She thought back over the list of invited guests. "Oh, there is another lady who'll be there. She's Lady Hedwrett, and she's a widow."

"I'm not familiar with her," Celia said. "You say she's Lady Hedwrett?"

Damara nodded.

Celia tapped her finger on her lips. "That's peculiar. I don't recall ever hearing about her." She furrowed her eyebrows. "And she's a widow?"

"I believe she's been a widow for a couple of years."

"She must not engage in social activities. Otherwise, I'd recognize her title. Is she going to be escorted by anyone?"

"Now that I think about it, there is another gentleman. Anthony said he's a good friend. His name is Corin." Her cheeks warmed. "I'm afraid I don't remember his title. I've been struggling to keep Lady Hartwell and Lady Hedwrett straight. Those two are so similar, don't you-"

"Corin?"

Damara paused.

"Do you mean Lord Durrant?" Celia asked.

"Now that you mention it, that sounds like his title."

Celia jumped off the settee and headed toward the doorway.

"What is it? Did I say something wrong?" Damara called out as she rose to her feet.

Anthony reached the doorway just in time to meet Celia. Before he could say anything, Celia put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "What's this about Corin escorting Lady Hedwrett at Lord Steinbeck's dinner party this evening?"

A blush crept up Anthony's face. "Celia, you can't be surprised. Single gentlemen are free to escort whichever lady they choose at these dinner parties."

"Why wasn't I invited? Did you tell Corin I was busy this evening? He would have wanted to escort me instead of Lady Hedwrett."

Anthony let out a shaky laugh. "The evening would bore you. It's just a group of gentlemen discussing business. You hate those things. And besides, it's not like you and Lady Steinbeck are friends."

"That's it, isn't it!" Celia snapped her fingers. "Lady Steinbeck forbade me from going. She made Corin take someone else." She glanced back at Damara. "Lady Steinbeck hates me."

"Lady Steinbeck has nothing to do with this," Anthony replied. "Corin and I discussed it, and we thought it was best to spare you a long and tedious evening at Lord Steinbeck's." When her frown deepened, he added, "Can you honestly tell me you want to listen to Captain Egan talk about whaling all through dinner?"

"You know I'd listen to anything if I can be with Corin. This is all Lady Steinbeck's fault."

Anthony let out a frustrated sigh, which prompted Damara to grab her gloves and go over to them. "It's only one dinner party," Damara told Celia, hoping to calm the lady down. "Surely, we can have a dinner party here sometime, and Corin can escort you then."

Celia's eyes lit up, and she turned her expectant gaze to Anthony, who didn't look as willing to do this as Damara assumed he'd be. In fact, he seemed even more uncomfortable. Damara frowned. Had she unwittingly made things worse?

"We'll talk about this later," Anthony told Celia. "If Damara and I don't leave now, we'll be late."

"It's a simple yes or no answer," Celia argued. "Is there a reason why we won't have Corin over for a dinner party so he can be my escort?"

"We'll discuss this later," Anthony said then reached for Damara's arm.

Celia wasn't the least bit happy with his response. That much Damara could tell. Now she felt awful. She should have kept her mouth shut. If she hadn't interrupted their conversation, then Anthony wouldn't be pinned into such an awkward position.

Damara waited until they were in the carriage before she said, "I'm sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have said anything about you having a dinner party."

With a smile, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You did nothing wrong. I should have told you that Corin doesn't want to marry Celia, even though Celia thinks he does."

"Oh." That was why Celia got upset when she heard that Corin was going to be with Lady Hedwrett this evening. "I wish I hadn't told her he was going to be at Warren's tonight."

"As I said, you did nothing wrong. It was a lack of foresight on my part that caused all of this. I should have explained everything to you sooner." He rubbed her back. "I thought you were going to be waiting for me in your bedchamber."

"I was going to, but I got too nervous. I haven't even put these on yet." She gestured to the gloves then slipped them on.

"Try not to let Celia upset you. She'll find someone else. The Season has just started. There are plenty of opportunities for her. I think I'll start taking her to some balls next week. It'll be a good chance for me to find someone for Loretta, too." He grinned. "I don't suppose I can talk you into going to the balls with me? Then the task of finding suitable gentlemen won't be too burdensome."

He expected her to say yes, and as much as she wanted to since he was so kind to her, she couldn't do it. What if Lord Comwright was at one of those balls? What would he do if he saw her with Anthony?

The carriage came to a stop, giving her a much-needed escape from having to answer his question. By the way he kissed her, she knew he assumed she'd be more than happy to go to the balls with him. And she wasn't sure what to do about that.

The footman opened the door, and Anthony guided her out of the carriage and up the steps to Warren's townhouse. Forgetting all about Lord Comwright, she focused on the people she was about to meet. She took a deep breath and tucked her arm around Anthony's for support. More than anything, she wanted the evening to go well. Both for her sake and for Anthony's.

Warren's footman led them to the drawing room where five people were already enjoying a conversation. Damara didn't realize her grip had tightened on Anthony's arm until he gave her hand a reassuring pat. She loosened her grip and smiled at him, grateful he was offering her encouragement. It was so like him to show her mercy when she needed it the most, and that was one thing about him she'd never take for granted.

The people turned to them, and the butler introduced them.

The blond gentleman rose to his feet. "I'm Warren. It's a pleasure to finally put a name with a face," he told Damara as he went over to her. "Anthony's been talking of little else ever since he came back to London."

"Yes, this is Damara, my dear wife," Anthony replied.

Damara's skin flushed with pleasure at the pride in his voice.

"My wife's been eager to meet you," Warren told her as he gestured to his wife, who smiled at her.

Damara returned the smile, the familiar rush of shyness coming back to her.

"You can call her Iris," Warren continued. "Next to Iris is my sister, Opal. She'll be in her first Season next year, and I'm already dreading it."

"Don't be silly," Opal piped up. "I have you to stand between me and the rakes. You have nothing to worry about."

With a twinkle in her eye, Iris added, "Poor Warren's already been interviewing potential suitors."

"Discreetly, of course," Warren said. "They don't know what I'm doing. But that doesn't matter at the moment. We're here to enjoy a dinner party, not discuss the marriage mart." He turned and gestured to the other gentleman in the room. "That over there is Corin, and he's with Candace, who goes by the title Lady Hedwrett. Iris' parents and Captain Egan should be here soon. In the meantime, have a seat and tell us how you met. Corin and I are having a hard time believing that you managed to convince Anthony to marry you the same day you met him. We thought Anthony never even looked up from a book long enough to notice there were creatures as interesting as ladies."

The others chuckled, including Anthony, so Damara relaxed.

"It's hard not to notice someone as lovely as Damara," Anthony said as he sat beside her.

"You are lovely," Iris added, peering around her husband as he poured tea into two cups. "And I love the gown you're wearing. The pink brings out the color in your cheeks."

"Thank you," Damara replied. "Anthony helped me pick it out. He said I looked good in it."

"Are you shopping for ladies' clothes now?" Corin asked, eyebrows raised as he looked at Anthony.

"It's an excuse to be with my wife," Anthony replied. "You can't blame a gentleman for wanting to do that."

"I think it's a sweet gesture," Iris said.

"You're making me look bad," Warren told Anthony as he handed him and Damara their cups. "Iris is bound to think I don't find her interesting simply because I don't want to spend time in a dress shop."

"A dress shop?" Anthony asked. "I thought you two preferred to spend time in a coin shop instead." He glanced at Damara. "You'd be surprised by how much he talked about Iris' old Sovereign when they first married. You'd swear that was the best coin ever made."

"It's a rare coin," Warren replied. "None of you have one."

"They're not exactly cheap," Corin spoke up.

"No, they aren't," Candace agreed. "My late husband had one. It was one of his most prized possessions."

Corin turned to her. "He did?"

Candace nodded. "He used to show it to gentlemen when he wanted to impress them."

"If you're nice to her, maybe she'll show it to you sometime," Warren told Corin.

She chuckled at the joke. "I certainly don't mind showing it to anyone who wants to see it."

"I might take you up on the offer," Corin replied.

The butler returned to the room with Iris' parents and Captain Egan, and soon the group went to dinner.

So far, so good. Damara hoped the evening would finish as well as it started. Then Anthony wouldn't have to be sorry he'd brought her here to meet his friends. With a smile at him, she sat in her chair as Celia had instructed then began eating.

Chapter Seventeen

"What do you think of Damara?" Anthony asked Warren and Corin as they went into the den after dinner.

"Iris seems to like her," Warren said as he poured brandy into five glasses. "I judge each lady by what Iris thinks of them."

"I don't know how much of an impression Damara made with Iris," Corin replied. "Your mother-in-law, Damara, and Candace spent most of the time in silence while the rest of us—including Iris—asked Captain Egan all about his adventures at sea."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Warren handed them each a glass of brandy. "They'll have to get acquainted in the drawing room."

"Poor Iris," Anthony began. "I have a feeling she'd rather be here, and since she's a lady, she can't."

"Oh, she got enough information from the captain during dinner," Warren assured him. "She gave me the nod of approval toward the end of the meal."

"The nod of approval?" Corin asked.

"Yes," Warren said. "I like to get her input before going into a new business venture. She gives me a nod if she approves of it. If she shakes her head, then I know it's not worth pursuing."

"You two really do make an excellent match," Corin replied, sounding impressed.

"Which is why you should go to the Duchess of Ashbourne to find a wife," Warren said, giving him a pointed look. "She knows who your ideal wife will be."

"I don't know if I'll need her services or not. I happen to think Candace is a fitting match."

"Because of her money?"

Corin seemed hesitant to answer but then said, "All right. I do like her money. But it's more than that. She has a pleasant disposition." He glanced at Anthony. "It's a nice change to feel like I'm the one leading the relationship."

Anthony couldn't blame him. He knew full well that Celia liked to take control over everything. He lifted his glass of brandy to him. "May things work out in your favor."

"I'll drink to that." Corin joined him in taking a sip of the brandy.

"Do you ever fear for your life when you're at sea?" Warren's father-in-law asked Captain Egan as the two entered the room.

"Of course, I do," Captain Egan replied. "That's part of the appeal. You never take a day for granted because nothing is guaranteed."

"Not to be grim," Warren said as he gave the two gentlemen their glasses of brandy, "but have you lost anyone on your crew?"

"A few," the captain admitted. "They didn't heed my warning. When someone gets so puffed up with their own importance they believe their way is the best way, they won't listen to reason. That's when they act foolishly. For instance, you don't do battle with a storm. All you can do is ride it out. But I had someone on my ship who thought it was a good idea to get on the edge of the deck and wield a sword at an oncoming wave."

"He didn't!" Corin replied.

Captain Egan nodded. "He did, and the wave took him into the sea for that. It reminded me of Caligula." He glanced at the gentlemen. "Are any of you familiar with the Roman emperors?"

"I've read about some of them," Anthony said as the men sat down. Once he got comfortable in his chair, he added, "Caligula married his sister, if I recall right."

"Some sources claim that, but there's no real proof to the rumor," Captain Egan replied. "Some time into his reign, he developed a heightened sense of himself. He likened himself to one of their gods."

"That's not so uncommon. Other emperors did that," Anthony said.

"Yes, but in his case, he had his men do battle with the sea god they called Poseidon. You want to guess what they brought back as spoils?"

Intrigued to see where the captain was going with this, Anthony shook his head. "What did they bring back?"

"Shells. Lots and lots of shells." Captain Egan sipped his brandy. "One thing I've learned in my time at sea is that some men are caught up in their own delusions, and it doesn't matter who they are. They can be rich or poor. Young or old. Strong or weak. The real source of power is right here." He tapped his head. "In the mind. Good sense wins over money and brawn each time."

"Well said," Warren's father-in-law replied. "That applies to every area of life. Not just the sea."

"I'm curious, Captain," Warren began, lounging back in his chair. "Do you ever get tired of being at sea? Wouldn't it be nice to settle down and get married to a good lady?"

The captain smiled. "The ship is the only lady I'll ever need."

"Not all of us are called to get married," Warren's father-in-law spoke up, "though I'm glad I was."

"I am, too," Warren said. "A good lady can do wonders for a gentleman."

Anthony nodded his agreement and drank the rest of his brandy.

"I suppose if I had a title, I would be inclined to take a wife," the captain said. "However, my brother's the one who has a title chaining him to the land, and I'm grateful for it. I wouldn't want the responsibility."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't have a title to worry about," Corin replied. "There can be so much pressure that comes with it."

"Join me then. We'll go out to sea together," the captain said.

Corin chuckled. "Even if I could, I don't think I would. The seaman's life is no life for me. I admire you for your freedom, though."

"Once you get the right lady, you'll realize marriage has its perks," Anthony promised Corin.

Warren and his father-in-law agreed, and the gentlemen turned their discussion to the captain's upcoming trip at sea.

***

Damara sipped her tea, mindful of how she was drinking. For some reason, she wasn't so nervous that she almost spilled the liquid on her gown, even though Iris had filled her cup to the brim. Maybe it was the sherry she'd had during the dinner that had relaxed her or the fact that these ladies didn't seem overly concerned with etiquette, but she felt relaxed here. If only she could be assured things would go this well at Lady Eloise's. But then, Lady Eloise was only important because Damara wanted to please Celia.

"You're awfully quiet," Iris spoke up after her mother and Opal left the room to check on Opal's new dresses. "Have we bored you this evening?"

Damara smiled. "No. I actually found everything interesting. I had no idea so much went into tracking down a whale. I also had no idea there were so many things a whale provides, like oil and material to make corsets. I learned a lot."

"It wasn't the whaling part that interested me, to be honest," Iris said. "I wanted to know how much of a return my husband could expect if he helped fund the expedition."

"Yes, I suppose that is important," Damara replied. "I know so little about how business works that such talk eludes me."

"You're not the only one," Candace assured Damara. "As soon as they started breaking down the expenses and profits, my mind wandered to the upcoming ball."

Feeling better since she wasn't the only one whose mind had drifted to other things, Damara confessed, "I was thinking of my husband's country estate."

"You both did a good job of pretending you were listening," Iris told them, an amused smile on her face. "I never would have guessed you were thinking of other things. I love such discussions, but the only time I get to partake in them is during the dinner. After the ladies separate from the gentlemen, I have to wait for Warren to tell me what else he learns about the prospective investment."

Candace chuckled and poured herself another cup of tea. "Then it is the ladies' topics that bore you."

"No, not in the least," Iris said. "I enjoy talking about those things, too. Well, I will admit I don't care much about the latest fashions. My mother and Opal have conversations for hours over what clothes to get. My poor mother had me for a daughter, and I was far more interested in things my father enjoyed. Opal's been the best thing that ever happened to her."

"Yes, but your mother loves you," Damara replied. "You're very fortunate to have her."

"I know. I am. She's a good mother," Iris said. "When I think of all the years she spent listening to Father and me go on and on about money, I marvel at her endurance."

Damara laughed along with Candace at Iris' joke. Even if Iris and her mother didn't have much in common, Damara could tell the two were close. She wondered what such a relationship was like. It was sad that she'd never share such a bond with her own mother. Nor would she share a closeness with her father. But she was carrying a child, and she could be the kind of parent she'd always wished for. Maybe she had to go through everything she had in order to be a good mother. Surely, she could take what she'd learned from her past and make sure her child never had to face the same kind of rejection she had.

"Yes, I miss my mother," Candace was telling Iris. Breaking out of her thoughts, Damara looked over at her, unaware Iris had asked Candace a question. "The years help to ease the ache of being without her, but there are times when it would be nice to talk to her. I'm fortunate that my father is still alive, though. Fortunately, the money my departed husband left me is enough for me to take care of him."

Damara sensed that Candace wasn't nearly as sad about losing her husband as she had been over losing her mother. "Do you miss your husband?" she asked. Then, realizing she'd just asked a very personal question to someone she didn't know, she hurried to amend, "I'm sorry. Forgive me for prying into something that is none of my business."

"I don't mind the question," Candace said. "The truth is, I was relieved when he died. He was a cruel person."

Damara could understand that. She was still glad she was no longer under her parents' control.

"Are you looking to marry again?" Iris asked Candace. "Is that why you came here with Corin?"

"No. I'm not looking to get married," Candace replied then took a sip of her tea. "I was getting restless staying at home all the time. I wanted some excitement."

Iris' jaw dropped. "Excitement? Are you looking for a lover?"

A lover? Damara glanced at Candace. Did widows make it a habit of doing that kind of thing?

"No, I have no desire for a lover," Candace replied. "I just wanted to meet new people. I don't have a gentleman telling me what to do, and I've been a recluse for far too long. Except for one friend and my dear father, I really don't know anyone." She shrugged. "I felt like it was time to find out what I've been missing. There's so much in London. I just don't want to waste another minute of my life." She offered them a smile. "I am enjoying this dinner party. It's been a pleasure to meet both of you."

Iris and Damara returned her smile, but it was Damara who spoke up. "I feel the same way. I'm glad I came here this evening."

"Well, I'm glad you turned out to be nice," Iris told Damara. "I worried when Warren told me you had married Anthony."

"Did you think I wouldn't make him a good wife?" Damara asked.

"It had nothing to do with that," Iris assured her. "It's just that I heard you're getting along with Celia, and since she and I don't like each other, I wasn't sure how things would be between us."

Damara's eyebrows furrowed. "Why don't you and Celia get along?"

"She and I don't agree on many things."

Damara waited for Iris to explain more than that, but Iris turned the conversation to the possibility of the three of them going to Hyde Park for a walk in the upcoming week.

Damara supposed she ought to be glad Iris chose not to elaborate on the matter with Celia. If she had, Damara might feel torn between the two ladies. By keeping things vague and discreet, she had managed to keep Damara at liberty to be friends with her and Celia. It was a smart move, really.

"I would enjoy a stroll through the park," Candace told Iris. "What do you think, Damara?"

Damara opened her mouth to agree, but then she recalled Lord Comwright. "Are there any other activities to do in London?"

"Well," Iris began, "we could do many things." She turned to Candace. "You're the one who's seeking excitement. What kind of thing would you like to do?"

"It would be nice to go to balls and dance," Candace suggested.

Iris glanced expectantly at Damara.

Damara shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Is there anything we can do during the day that won't have so many people around?" Noting their curious expressions, she added, "I don't like to be near a lot of people." Her face warmed. Would they suspect the truth?

Iris offered an understanding smile. "I thought you were shy. You have no need to be embarrassed. I'm shy, too."

"You? Shy?" Candace asked. "I don't believe it."

"It's true. In fact, I'm a wallflower," Iris replied.

Candace laughed and shook her head. "I don't believe it. You had no trouble speaking during the dinner, and you seem at ease with us."

"At dinner, I was discussing a topic that I love. As for being with you two, I find it easy to talk to you both. It's not the same as it with most ladies." She shrugged. "I'm not sure why, but I do."

"I feel at ease with you, too."

"I do as well," Damara agreed.

"It'd be a shame not to do something next week since we get along so well," Candace said. "One place I have been interested in going to is the menagerie. It'd be fun to see some exotic animals."

Damara knew for a fact Lord Comwright wouldn't be there. He had no interest in animals unless they were horses. "I think that would be fun," she agreed.

Iris glanced from one to the other and nodded. "All right. We'll plan on going to the menagerie then."

From there, they discussed a day and time to go there.

Chapter Eighteen

Damara felt much better the next day when it came time for her to go with Celia to Lady Eloise's. The dinner party had gone well. Iris and Candace seemed to like her. Celia's lessons had paid off. If she could manage a dinner party with success, then she could get through this afternoon's social engagement, too.

When she came down the stairs, Anthony and Celia were waiting in the entryway. He let out a low whistle and called out, "You're going to be the most beautiful lady there. The others will fade in comparison to you."

Celia nudged him in the side. "Thank you, Anthony."

Looking contrite, he turned to his sister. "You're nice to look at, too, but I only see you as my sister when I look at you."

"In that case, I suppose I'll let the comment go." She smiled at Damara. "You do look lovely. I told you the gown would accentuate your best features."

"You have wonderful fashion sense, Celia," Damara said when she reached them. "Thank you for helping me pick out the gown."

"You're my friend," Celia replied. "I'm happy to help you in any way I can."

"I was hoping you two would be friends," Anthony said, turning his gaze to Damara.

Damara read the silent question in his eyes and realized he was thinking back to three days ago when she'd confided in him that she didn't feel as if she measured up to Celia's expectations.

Damara smiled, an indication that she felt at ease with Celia now. Maybe she'd been overly sensitive that day Celia had taught her how to act at Lady Eloise's.

Celia couldn't have known how pointing out her flaws had brought up all those memories of her past. And who could blame her? Damara hadn't told her about her mother. Damara felt like such a fool. If only it wasn't so difficult to put away the past. She might have understood Celia better.

"I appreciate your help in preparing me for today, Celia," Damara said. "It's very kind of you."

Anthony brought the two ladies in for a hug. "This is wonderful. My two favorite ladies getting along so splendidly." He released them then led them to the door. "I know how important these social engagements are to you ladies, so I won't keep you."

The footman opened the door, and Damara followed Celia out of the townhouse and to the carriage. Once she was seated, she glanced out the small window and saw Anthony wave to her. She waved back.

"I've never seen my brother act so sentimental," Celia mused. "That must be what happens when a gentleman is in love."

Damara turned her attention to Celia as the footman shut the carriage door. "I'm glad you'll be with me this afternoon." The carriage moved forward and Damara shifted into a more comfortable position. "I'll do everything exactly as you instructed. I want to make a good impression because it's important to you."

"Yes, I know you do. As long as you nod and smile a lot, sip your tea, and take little bites of the food, you'll do fine."

That was easy to keep in mind. "I'll do all of that."

"Good." Celia grew quiet for a moment then asked, "Do you feel up to drinking and eating today?"

Damara nodded. "I ate a small amount this morning, so I have an appetite."

"Good. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I hear it can be difficult in the first couple months when a lady is with child. To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't conceive sooner. My mother conceived right away. But then, I suppose all ladies are different."

"Yes, I suppose so, too." Damara was surprised it'd taken her so long to conceive, but then, she had no idea how long her mother had waited before she conceived her.

"I don't mean to pry, but since we are friends," Celia began, "is Anthony the only gentleman you've been with?"

Damara's face warmed. The question seemed awfully personal. Was this the kind of things friends discussed?

As if she read her mind, Celia said, "I haven't been with a gentleman. Well, not completely. There was one I snuck a few kisses and touches with when no one was around. We even removed some clothing. But that was it. We only did it because we were bored. Afterwards, I realized if I'd gotten caught, it would have been a horrible scandal. I didn't do anything like that again. But sometimes," she shrugged, "well, there are moments where we're weak. Did you have weak moments like that before you met my brother?"

"Well, I never felt any kind of weakness before I met your brother."

Which was true. Damara hadn't been tempted at all to do anything she shouldn't with Lord Comwright. But that didn't stop him from trying to take her virginity. But she didn't want to tell Celia that. Even if Celia was her friend, that was far more information than she wanted to disclose to anyone else.

"Of course, gentlemen can also be enthusiastic about doing certain things before they're married, and it doesn't take much prompting to get them to comply with us." Celia leaned closer to her. "Did you and Anthony do anything interesting together before you married?"

"Well, I...I noticed he was attracted to me." She cleared her throat and broke eye contact with her. "So I let my breast brush his arm, and I kissed him."

"And?"

"And that was it. We married after that. I'm sorry, Celia. I know it was manipulative for me to do those things."

Celia frowned. "All you did was brush your breast against his arm and kiss him, and he married you?"

Was Celia disappointed? Had she wanted Damara to tell her more? Not sure what else she could add, Damara ventured, "I know our marriage was a hasty one. I'm the reason it was rushed. I wanted to marry him. I wouldn't have acted like a whore otherwise."

"A whore? You think you acted like a whore?"

"I tempted him with pleasures of the flesh. Isn't that what a whore does?"

"A whore would do a lot more than what you did." Celia settled back in the seat then glanced back at her. "You really didn't do anything else? You didn't show him anything? Or let him touch anything important?"

"No. I promise, Celia. I didn't arouse him further than that."

"I don't understand. Plenty of gentlemen do more than that and think nothing of it. Why would that be enough for him to marry you?"

Damara couldn't mention the money. Under no circumstances was she going to mention that, but that was the missing piece Celia was probably searching for.

"I hope you don't hate me," she told Celia. "I'm telling the truth when I say I love your brother. I only want to make him happy. I'll never be with anyone else, and I'll be a good mother to his children."

The carriage stopped.

"Are we still friends?" Damara asked.

Celia, still seeming baffled, offered her a smile. "Yes, we're still friends."

Relieved, Damara relaxed.

The footman opened the carriage door, and Celia stepped out of it. Damara followed. The townhouse seemed like any other, but she noted that two ladies going up the steps were just as dressed up as she and Celia were.

"I told you it was necessary to wear only the best attire to Lady Eloise's residence," Celia whispered as she led her to the entrance. "You're very fortunate to be here today. All the people watching us are wishing they had someone like me to invite them here. I can tell Miss Carlton over there is dying of envy right now."

Damara followed Celia's gaze and saw a lady about their age who had stopped to let them pass by.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" Celia called out. "There's a Ladies of Grace social engagement today."

Miss Carlton rolled her eyes but didn't reply.

"She couldn't get in," Celia told Damara, her voice loud enough for Miss Carlton to hear. "The poor dear lacks anything interesting to say."

Damara winced. Did Celia really have to say that right in front of the lady? And in such a loud voice? Had Damara not been so stunned, she might have warned Celia that Miss Carlton could hear her. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Celia would probably take it as a criticism.

Celia waited until they were out of the lady's hearing to add, "Some ladies will never fit in, no matter how hard they try. It's sad. But then, it's necessary. What good is being with the influential crowd if everyone belonged there?"

By the time they reached the doorway, Damara finally said, "Maybe she didn't have someone to teach her what to do. I didn't know there was so much to learn about how to behave until you told me what I was doing wrong."

"You're probably right, but I can't go around teaching everyone. There's only so much time in a day. And besides, I have an interest in teaching you. You're Anthony's wife. That makes you more important than people like Miss Carlton."

Well, Damara supposed Celia had a point. Still, it seemed rather harsh for Celia to be so dismissive of her.

"Miss Barlow," the footman greeted as he approached them. "Lady Eloise is expecting you." He glanced at Damara and asked Celia, "Is this your guest?"

"Yes. She's my sister-in-law," Celia replied, giving Damara an excited smile.

Damara quickly forgot about Miss Carlton as the footman offered her a greeting and then welcomed both ladies into the townhouse. She had to be sure she didn't do anything to bring embarrassment to Celia.

Celia had put a lot of faith in her. She was willing to introduce her to her friends—friends who had a lot of influence in London. Her stomach tightened. All she had to do was remember Celia's instructions. And if she forgot something, she'd make sure to watch Celia and follow her lead. Two hours. She just needed to be on her best behavior for two hours. God willing, two hours from now, Celia wouldn't be thinking she was as hopeless as poor Miss Carlton.

Chapter Nineteen

An hour later at Lady Eloise's, Loretta was fighting back the urge to cry as she sipped her tea. It was hard for a lady to pretend she was happy when the world was crashing down around her.

The other ten ladies sat around the circular table, completely oblivious to the turmoil as they sipped tea or nibbled an assortment of pastries in front of them. Meanwhile, Lady Eloise gave an exhaustive account of the people they shouldn't associate with if they intended to stay in the group.

Loretta hadn't had the stomach to sit with Celia since she had brought Damara with her, so she opted to sit across from them. This was probably the worst move she could have made because it was too easy to look straight ahead and see her. At least if Celia had sat between them, she could keep looking away from her more easily. But she was stuck for another hour in this miserable predicament whether she liked it or not.

And try as she might, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Anthony's wife. Damara was beautiful. Extremely so. Was it no wonder he ditched Loretta to marry her? What gentleman could resist a lady who had both the face and figure that was the envy of every lady in London? What Loretta wouldn't give to look like her.

"What about Lady Steinbeck?" Lady Stacey asked at the table. "My brother knows Lord Steinbeck from his business dealings, and he says Lord Steinbeck has substantial influence in London. His money and reputation are both excellent. Wouldn't his wife be an asset to this group?"

"If we could get Lady Steinbeck in here, it might help my husband acquire good business contacts," Lady Gareth added. "My husband's been upset because of the money he lost on recent investments."

Celia's gaze met Loretta's from across the table, and Celia smirked. They both were well acquainted with Lord Steinbeck's wife. She'd been known as Lady Iris before he married her. Usually, Loretta would have had to hide her chuckle since she didn't care for Iris any more than Celia did. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to care today. Anthony was married to someone else. What did her personal feelings for Iris matter?

Lady Eloise set down her teacup with an authoritative clang and straightened in her seat. Though she couldn't be older than Loretta, she had a way about her that made Loretta think she was forty, if not fifty. And because of that, others—even those older in the group—looked to her to lead them.

Lady Eloise clasped her hands in front of her and scanned the ladies at the table. Loretta inwardly shivered. Celia didn't think Lady Eloise could see into someone's soul, but there were times Loretta felt as if Lady Eloise knew her most intimate secrets.

"It's true that Lord Steinbeck is an admirable gentleman in London," Lady Eloise began. "His wife, however, isn't one of us. Nor can she ever be. She's not very attractive. She lacks sufficient social graces. And more than that, she enjoys investing, which is strictly a gentleman's activity. I'm afraid she must be avoided as much as possible. If one of you has a brother or a husband who would benefit from an acquaintance with Lord Steinbeck, I fully understand why you must bear to be in her presence should you have to attend a dinner party with her. But it's best if you are never seen in public with her. If you do see her in public, pretend you don't know her. There are allowances we give for private matters that we can't make when others are around." She scanned their faces. "Does anyone have a problem with that?"

The room was silent. Loretta didn't even dare swallow in case someone heard her. When Lady Eloise took that kind of tone, she was serious, and the last thing anyone should do was upset her. To do so would be social suicide.

"Good." Lady Eloise relaxed and smiled. "We must be mindful of how important it is to marry the right person."

Well, Loretta couldn't argue that. If only Damara had married someone else, then she wouldn't be in such a sorry state right now because Anthony had met up to Lady Eloise's standards.

"Are there any other people you have questions about?" Lady Eloise asked. No one indicated they wanted to speak, so she offered a curt nod and picked up her teacup. "Now that we have discussed the proper people to associate with this Season, let's discuss what we should wear."

Loretta only paid half attention as Lady Eloise ran through a list of fashionable clothes. She should be especially interested in this particular discussion since she hadn't shopped for new clothes yet, minus the gown she currently wore. A gown, she lamented, that must never been worn in public again. The gown was so pretty. Its golden hue went well with her red hair. So few clothes complimented her complexion this well. But Lady Eloise knew what she was talking about, and the only worthwhile thing Loretta had was her reputation. She'd rather die than lose that.

Once the topic of fashion was over, Lady Eloise discussed new phrases they could use to convey private meanings while in public. One Loretta particularly liked was, "Today is lovelier than yesterday," which was a secret code for, "Let's go somewhere else. I don't care much for the people around us."

Loretta and Celia often encountered situations in public when undesirables were approaching. She bet she and Celia would use that one often during the Season.

Once that was done, Lady Eloise ran off a list of gentlemen she believed would be suitable for marriage. With a sigh, Loretta forced down another sip of tea. Last year, Anthony had been on that list, and worse, Loretta had believed it meant she was fated to marry him.

"This year, I am adding a new gentleman to the list," Lady Eloise said toward the end of her spiel. "The Duke of Lambeth."

Even Loretta, who was only half paying attention nearly dropped her cup at this announcement. The Duke of Lambeth? Lady Eloise couldn't be serious!

"Why would you choose the Duke of Lambeth?" Lady Stacey asked on Loretta's behalf. "He's a rake."

"He used to be a rake," Lady Eloise said. "I know there's the saying, Once a rake, always a rake, but he has lived the life of a saint for the past three years. No one has heard even a hint of a scandal about him. It's as if he became an entirely new person. I've also heard he refuses to marry anyone. He won't even go to balls to dance with a lady. Several ladies tried last Season to win him, and they all failed." A grin crossed her face. "He is London's biggest challenge, and because of that, I am adding him to the list. If any of you can secure a marriage to him, you will have done what no other lady has been able to do."

Had it been any other lady who said this, Loretta didn't think the others would be impressed. But Lady Eloise had been the one to give the decree. And that changed everything.

What Loretta wouldn't give for that kind of influence. If she could say something and make an entire room of people agree with her, she would have the world at her feet. Many times she couldn't help but admire Lady Eloise for her ability to do what no one else could. Not even Lady Cadwalader matched her. Lady Cadwalader had a lot of influence. There was no denying that. But Lady Eloise had a way of captivating people when she spoke.

"With our business done," Lady Eloise began with a satisfied smile, "let's adjourn to the veranda and converse in private groups."

Loretta joined the others and left the room. She intentionally left well before Celia could. Celia was still with Damara, and while the next half hour would be spent talking to whomever she wished, she most definitely did not want to talk to Damara. It was all she could do to be in the same room with the lady without screaming in frustration.

As soon as she made it to the veranda, she made a beeline right for Lady Gareth. Unfortunately, Celia jumped in front of her.

"Did you know I had to run to keep up with you?" Celia asked in a hushed voice. "You nearly caused me to lose my standing in this group. Thankfully, the others are busy talking to Damara, so they didn't notice."

Oh? So that meant when Loretta turned around, Damara wouldn't be right behind her? She hesitated for a moment, but then she turned around, and sure enough, Damara was on the other side of the veranda with a group of ladies gathered around her.

Loretta breathed a sigh of relief. Good. "I knew you were bringing her, but I didn't expect it to be so difficult to see her."

"I understand." Celia led her to a couple of chairs away from the group and sat with her. "It hasn't been easy to act like her friend. The betrayal hurts me as much as it does you, but I'm beginning to think the betrayal wasn't even on her part. I think it was on Anthony's."

Loretta wished she could be surprised, but in all honesty, she wasn't.

"I've been trying to get Damara to confess she tricked him into marriage, but no matter what angle I try, she doesn't do it," Celia whispered to Loretta. "For one, she says she didn't even know he was betrothed to you when she married him."

"I'm sure she didn't."

"That's why I thought she seduced him. So I confessed one of my own transgressions to her. You remember what I told you about my dalliance with Mr. Lincoln last year when he was visiting my brother? I told her everything. Then I asked her what she and my brother did before they married, and she said all she did was brush her breast against his arm and kiss him."

"That's it?" Loretta asked.

"I know. It's shocking. One would think someone who secured a marriage within a day would do more than we ever did."

Though Loretta didn't want to do it, she glanced over at Damara who was surrounded by Lady Eloise and four other ladies. The rest were further away, but, like Loretta, they were looking in her direction—all equally curious about her.

"It's not really all that shocking when you consider the truth," Loretta said. Though it pained her to say the words aloud, she turned her gaze back to Celia. "He married her because he didn't want to marry me."

Celia gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "No. Don't say that."

"It's true. He married the first lady he came across who made herself available to him so that he wouldn't have to come back to London and marry me." She quickly wiped her eyes before anyone else noticed. "I'm such a fool. I should have realized he didn't want to marry me when he said he wouldn't do it until he came back to London. I spent every day he was gone thinking of him. It seemed like winter would never end. Each day was longer than the last. I didn't feel like I could breathe again until the Season started. But it wasn't the same for him." She turned her gaze to her friend. "I can't figure out why he said he'd marry me in the first place. Can you?"

"You're a wonderful lady, and you're my friend. Why wouldn't he want to marry you?"

"It had nothing to do with me being wonderful. He must have agreed to it because he knew how much it meant to you. You're his sister, and he'd move heaven and earth to do what you want."

Loretta could tell Celia was struggling to come up with an argument to prove her wrong. But she couldn't. And the reason she couldn't was because Loretta was right.

After a few moments, Loretta put her hand over her friend's. "It's all right, Celia. You meant well. You knew how much I loved him and wanted me to be happy. I love you for that."

Celia's eyes brimmed with tears. "It's just not fair. You would have made him a good wife. I know it. Everything was going to be perfect. You and my brother. Me and Corin. All good friends. All enjoying each other's company. And she ruined it for all of us."

Again, Loretta glanced over at Damara. The beautiful lady seemed overwhelmed by all of the attention, but she managed to smile and nod while Lady Eloise talked to her. Damara would fit in well with the group. She hadn't seen Lady Eloise taking such an immediate liking to anyone before. Some ladies had all the luck, and Damara happened to be one of them. Damara didn't just have natural grace, but she had charm, too. No wonder Anthony wanted her.

"I think you did better with Damara than you thought," Loretta told Celia. "She's exactly the kind of lady who belongs here." She looked back at her friend. "And you only spent one morning teaching her what to do?"

"Not exactly. I was trying to ruin her confidence so she'd embarrass herself," Celia replied. "I insulted her while pretending to help. The truth was, I wanted to hurt her because she hurt you." Her gaze went over to Damara and Lady Eloise, and she groaned. "A lot of good that did. It only made Damara try harder."

"It's amazing how you managed to do in one day what it took the Duchess of Ironstone two months to do."

"I don't care how Damara acts. There's something wrong with her. She still won't say anything about her past. She can't be as perfect as she seems."

"What does it matter?"

"It matters a lot. She married my brother, and now she's carrying his child."

Loretta shouldn't have been dismayed at the news of the pregnancy, but it was yet another blow to her self-confidence. Beautiful. Graceful. Able to conceive. Yep. Some ladies had all the luck. The more she learned about Damara, the less she wanted to know.

Chapter Twenty

"Oh yes," Damara told Lady Eloise, "Celia has been very kind. She's an asset to this group."

Lady Eloise, and the other four ladies sitting around her, chuckled. "You certainly are loyal to your sister-in-law," Lady Eloise noted. "I can see why Celia wanted to bring you here. You make her look good."

"Last Season, Celia's brother was at the top of Lady Eloise's list of marriageable gentlemen," Miss Webb said. "We thought he was going to marry Loretta." She gestured to Celia and Loretta, who were engaged in a private conversation a few feet away from them.

"I feel terrible about that," Damara replied. "I had no idea that was the case."

"Don't feel terrible," Lady Eloise said. "The reason the gentlemen get placed on my list of London's most desirable gentlemen is because they are difficult to obtain. The harder a gentleman is to get, the better. Celia thinks she'll marry your husband's good friend, the Earl of Durrant. She wasn't able to secure his hand last Season. We'll see if she can do it this time."

Lady Stacey chuckled. "It'll be a miracle if she does. I hear he can barely tolerate her."

Miss Wilmington's eyes grew wide, and she leaned forward in interest. "It can't be true." She glanced at the others. "Can it? I know he's been her escort at her brother's dinner parties. Celia swears he's in love with her."

"Celia wants him to be in love with her," Lady Stacey replied with a pointed look. "Lord Durrant is good friends with her brother. I think he only escorts her because no other gentleman will have her."

Damara's face warmed. She had promised Celia she wouldn't do anything to embarrass her, but it seemed wrong to sit idly by while someone made fun of her. "Celia has been very kind to me," she said. "Any gentleman would be lucky to marry her."

"I like you, Damara," Lady Eloise said. "You're as kind as you are beautiful. A rare combination, if I say so myself. But let's not fool ourselves about Celia. She's not as sweet as she pretends to be. She does, however, have a good reputation, she knows how to conduct herself in social situations, and she has suitable connections through her brother. We do see the value in having her as a member of this group. We're sure she'll find a way to secure a suitable husband. We just hope she has the good sense to pursue other gentlemen. She'll be a spinster if she keeps pining for Lord Durrant."

Damara wasn't sure what she could say to that. Lady Eloise had taken her argument into consideration, and while she didn't agree with her, she had listed things she did like about Celia. It seemed to be an offer of a compromise, of allowing Damara to hold her own opinion while maintaining hers.

"You'll probably think the question I want to ask is silly," Damara began, "but I have much to learn about properly engaging with others in these situations." She cleared her throat. "I was wondering, is it acceptable if ladies agree to disagree on a certain matter?"

Lady Eloise smiled. "You're determined to think the best of your sister-in-law, aren't you?"

Damara wasn't sure how to best respond, but ultimately, she decided it was best to tell the truth. "I can only tell you what I think of her. She has been kind to me. She befriended me, and she brought me to this group, which, as she puts it, is the most important group in all of London. She even took the time to instruct me on how to act so that I can fit in. So yes, I suppose you could say I'm determined to think the best of her."

"How is it that you haven't been tainted by the world?" Lady Stacey asked, her voice soft.

Tainted by the world? What did that mean?

Before Damara could ask about it, Lady Eloise gave her a nod. Damara wasn't sure what the nod meant, except that it was a good thing because the other ladies seemed happy with it and also gave a nod in turn.

"Usually, we have a vote when we invite a lady to become a member of this group," Lady Eloise told Damara. "But I think we know enough. I would like to personally extend an invitation for you to become a Lady of Grace member. Take your time to consider the offer before making a decision."

Lady Eloise gave her another nod before she headed over to Celia and Loretta. Three of the ladies went with her, but Lady Stacey lingered with Damara.

"No one's been invited into this group on their first visit," Lady Stacey said.

"Is that a good thing?" Damara asked.

"Good?" She laughed. "It's the best thing that can happen to a lady. You're very fortunate."

Damara breathed a sigh of relief. That was good. Then it meant she hadn't done anything to embarrass Celia. She'd managed to get through this social engagement without doing something wrong. Celia, no doubt, would be relieved.

***

"Damara's a part of the group?" Celia asked Lady Eloise.

If Loretta hadn't known Celia so well, she would have sworn Celia was happy about the news. Celia managed to keep a smile on her face at all times, even when she was upset. But there was a slight wrinkle that appeared on her forehead whenever something bothered her. And right now, judging by how deep that wrinkle on Celia's forehead was, Loretta knew Celia wasn't just upset. She was furious.

Not that Loretta could blame her. How had Damara managed to snag both Anthony and a membership into this group so easily? Loretta glanced over at Damara who seemed to be completely unaware of how monumental it was to be accepted by Lady Eloise upon the first meeting.

"I know I don't often make decisions this important right away," Lady Eloise said, "but Damara has an innocent charm about her. While she lacks a few social graces, she believes the best in everyone, even when they don't deserve it." She patted Celia's arm. "I'm sure you know what I mean."

Loretta frowned. She'd like to know what Lady Eloise meant, and by the confused expression on Celia's face, it was apparent Celia didn't know, either.

"It'll be refreshing to have someone like her around," Lady Eloise continued. "You are to be commended for bringing her to us."

Lady Eloise left, her group of faithful lackeys following close behind.

Celia's gaze met Loretta's, and Loretta didn't know what else to do but shrug and say, "Some ladies have all the luck."

"This isn't luck," Celia hissed. "Damara deceives people. She deceived my brother, and now she's deceiving Lady Eloise."

"Maybe that's what luck is. Maybe it's the ability to deceive other people." If only she had such a gift.

Celia shook her head. "No. She pretends to be someone she isn't. That's deceit. Luck is something one can't control."

Maybe Celia was right. Maybe Damara was good at deceiving people. "Well, if that's the case, there's nothing we can do about it."

"Yes, there is. We can expose her."

"How?"

"By stopping this charade of accepting her."

Loretta gasped. "You aren't thinking of telling Lady Eloise something bad about her, are you?"

"And risk getting thrown out of this group? Telling Lady Eloise she made a bad decision is the fastest way to lose my reputation. No. I need to deal with Anthony. It all started with him, and it's going to end with him."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get him to think rationally again."

Loretta had no idea how Celia was going to do that, but before she could ask, Celia marched over to Damara. This was one of those times Loretta would give anything to find out what Celia was going to do next. Unfortunately, she had no such recourse. She would have to go back to her townhouse and mourn the things that would never be.

***

Anthony was talking to Warren and Captain Egan in his den when Celia stormed into the room, a panicked butler following her.

"I need to speak with you at once," Celia told Anthony, a determined look in her eye.

"Miss Barlow," the butler began, "if you'll just give your brother a few minutes to dismiss his guests-"

"No, I will not," she snapped, glaring at him. "He is my brother. This is my townhouse. I want to talk to my brother, and I want to talk to him right now."

Warren and Captain Egan jumped up in unison, and Warren grabbed the plans they'd been working on. "It's all right. We're finished."

Anthony's face warmed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. How dare Celia barge in on one of his meetings like this? Not wishing to make matters worse, he waited until everyone left then hurried to shut the door.

"What is wrong with you?" he hissed. "That was the most humiliating thing you've ever done to me."

"You think you've been humiliated?" she snapped. "You ran off and married that...that...Damara!...when you were supposed to marry Loretta. How was that supposed to make me feel?"

"I explained everything to you, and you said you were fine with it."

"Well, I wasn't! And I'm still not. Loretta's been in tears ever since she found out. You hurt her, and because of that, you hurt me. Me!" She tapped her chest. "Your own sister."

"I don't understand. Why did you say you were happy when you weren't?"

"What was I supposed to say? Thank you for ruining everything? Thank you for taking all of my dreams of the perfect future and throwing them aside? You were already married. You couldn't annul the marriage or divorce her. You brought a stranger into this place and told me you married her within one day of knowing her. And worse, you don't even know anything about her."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't!" She pointed her finger at him. "You don't know anything about her past. You only know the person she's pretending to be."

"She's not pretending to be anything she isn't."

"How do you know that? What's the proof?"

"I spent the past six months with her. You can't spend six months with someone and not know them."

"Then where did she come from?"

"What?"

"Where did she come from? Who are her parents? Where is their estate? Do they even have an estate? Or is she a beggar you picked up off the streets?"

"She's not a beggar. She had money."

"How do you know that?"

"Because she gave me a whole valise full of it when she asked me to marry her!"

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him for a long moment before blurting out, "She paid you to marry her?"

"It wasn't like that. She came up to my carriage and asked to talk to me."

"When did she do this?"

"On my way to Hamilton. It was before I stopped for the night in one of the towns along the way."

"Didn't it seem odd that a stranger wanted to talk to you in the middle of nowhere?"

"She wasn't with a group of thieves. She was all by herself. She only wanted to talk to me. I let her into the carriage. She asked if I'd marry her, and she told me I could have her valise, which was full of money. As you can tell, it all worked in my favor. No harm has come to me."

"How did she get an entire valise full of money?"

"I don't know."

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "Really? And here I thought you said she wasn't with thieves."

"It's not like that, Celia. She didn't steal it. Damara's incapable of stealing anything. She said the money was hers. It was her dowry."

"I thought you were smarter than that. Anthony, you are the most naïve person in London, and she took advantage of your innocent nature. No reputable lady goes up to a gentleman with a valise full of money and proposes marriage. She's made a fool of you. She's hiding something, and it has to be something awful if she went to such lengths to snag a gentleman she didn't know."

He opened his mouth to argue that Damara wasn't hiding anything from him. But even as he was ready to pose the argument, he realized he couldn't. Because, deep down, he knew there was something she wasn't telling him. She hadn't told him much about her past. In fact, he barely knew anything about it. All he knew was that she'd been hurt.

Celia glowered at him. "I am disappointed in you. You were betrothed to a good, trustworthy lady who loved you. Loretta would have done anything for you, but you threw that all away because you wanted a valise full of money."

"It wasn't the money," he told her, his voice softening.

"Then what was it? The way she looked? She was so beautiful that you couldn't resist her?"

"No. Well, I was attracted to her," he admitted. Noting the way Celia rolled her eyes, he quickly added, "But it was more than that. The truth is, I...I..." He tried to maintain eye contact with his sister, but he couldn't do it. "I didn't want to marry Loretta, and I was eager to get out of the betrothal."

"Then what Loretta thinks is true. You didn't want her at all?"

He heard the tears in his sister's voice and winced. He didn't want to hurt her. But what good was it to lie? What good was it to keep covering things up? It was time to come clean with everything. It was true for him, and it was true for Damara. Holding back the truth wasn't doing them any favors.

"I didn't want to be with Loretta the way a husband is supposed to be with his wife," Anthony admitted. "I had no attraction for her. She's pleasant enough to look at, but when I look at her, it's like I'm looking at you. I don't think I could have brought myself to be in bed with her. That's important in a marriage. A gentleman needs to be physically attracted to his wife."

"So it was nothing but lust that prompted you to marry the first lady who threw herself at you?"

"Attraction had a lot to do with it, yes. But it was more than that. Damara made me feel alive. She excited me."

"I bet she did," Celia snapped.

"Not in that way." He sighed. "Damara was lively when she spoke. She was enthusiastic. She didn't seem like so many of the ladies in London who are so worried about being proper that they lose their personality. I felt like she was the real thing. I wouldn't have to guess who she was. I'd get exactly what she was showing me."

"How can she be real when she doesn't tell you about her past?"

As much as he hated to admit it, she made a good point.

"There's no undoing this marriage, Anthony," Celia finally said after a long pause passed between them. "You made a rash decision, and that decision is going to impact the rest of your life. Whether you will ever admit it or not, you would have been much better off with Loretta. At least with her, you knew what you were getting."

She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

He stood in the room for the longest time, not sure what to do. Celia was right. Not about him marrying Loretta. Getting out of that situation was the best thing he ever did. But he should have known something about Damara before he jumped into marriage with her. They could have stayed in the town for a few days and gotten to know each other. He didn't have to marry her that very evening.

Well, what could he do about it now? He was already married to her. There was no undoing anything in the past. All he could do was move forward. But that only posed the very pertinent question: what was the best way to proceed from here?

Chapter Twenty-One

Damara sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She wished she knew what she'd done to upset Celia. All the way back home, Celia hadn't spoken more than a few words to her. She'd only offered a cool congratulations to her then claimed a headache. After that, she stared out the carriage window, signaling that the two wouldn't be talking.

Unlike her mother, Celia hadn't come out and stated why Damara had disappointed her, and that made it even more difficult to know how to react. If only she knew what her error had been. As it was, she could only guess, and for the life of her, her mind kept coming up blank. She'd behaved exactly the way Celia had instructed her to at Lady Eloise's, and yet, she didn't do something right.

When they reached the townhouse, Celia had told her she needed to speak to Anthony in private, so Damara went to her bedchamber. She wasn't sure when she would be able to leave. She didn't feel at liberty to go to any other room until she knew Celia was finished talking to Anthony.

Go to your bedchamber while I speak with your father, her mother would say. When I'm ready to see you again, I'll let you know.

Damara used to spend days all by herself with only a maid to bring her something to eat and drink before her mother was finally ready to talk to her again.

On its own accord, a sob rose up in her throat. Cupping her face in her hands, she let the tears fall. Celia reminded her so much of her mother.

Growing up, Damara had longed for the day when she could leave her parents' estate. She knew the way her mother treated her wasn't healthy, and she knew her father's indifference wasn't much better. But without a way out, she was stuck. Then Lord Comwright came for her, and she took the opportunity to get out of there. When she'd realized Anthony was a kind gentleman, she thought all of her problems were over. How wrong she'd been. She was back to where she started. Trapped in her room and alone.

The bedchamber door opened. Startled, she grabbed for a handkerchief that was by her brush. She missed it, and the brush fell to the floor. She hurried to pick it up before it even occurred to her to see who had entered the room. Object in hand, she saw Anthony and relaxed.

Maybe she should have wanted it to be Celia. Then she could ask Celia what was wrong and learn how she could act better next time. No. That wasn't the best way to handle Celia. If she gave Celia that kind of power, it would be like living with her mother all over again. She had to break the cycle.

She put the brush back on the vanity then picked up the handkerchief. "Did you talk with your sister?" she asked as she wiped her cheeks.

"Yes." Closing the door behind him, he asked, "Did Celia tell you why she wanted to talk to me?"

She shook her head. "I figured it had to do with Ladies of Grace."

"Ladies of Grace?"

"I was invited to become a member. I don't think Celia was very happy about it."

"No, it had nothing to do with the group." He approached her and held his hand out to her. "Damara, we need to talk."

She studied his expression in an effort to figure out what he had on his mind, but it was hard to tell. All she knew was that if Celia wasn't happy with her and Celia talked to him, then this was bound to be unpleasant. She'd been able to avoid unpleasant topics up to now, but maybe she couldn't anymore. Maybe she had to face this.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded and took his hand. He led her to the bed and sat beside her, his arm settling around her waist.

"I know you don't like to talk about your past," he began, his voice soft, "and I can understand if it's too painful to discuss your past with other people. But Damara, I'm your husband. If there's anyone you should be able to confide in, it should be me."

She frowned. This didn't have anything to do with Celia?

With his free hand, he placed his finger under her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him. "Why were you on that road the day we met? And why did you have a valise full of money?"

She wanted to look away from him, but she couldn't. Not when his gaze was so tender it made her heart hurt. Up to now, she'd been able to avoid the issue by changing the topic or encouraging him to make love to her, but she couldn't keep avoiding this forever.

And today, with all the stress she'd been under to make a good impression with Lady Eloise for Celia's sake and Celia's strange reaction, the fight just wasn't in her to try to sidestep the issue one more time.

"Fine," she relented. "I'll tell you."

Finally looking away from him, she took a long pause as she searched for the right words to use. After careful debate, she realized there was nothing she could say to soften the impact, so she would just have to come out and say it.

"I despise my parents," she said. "I probably shouldn't despise my father since he ignored me, but his indifference makes me hate him as much as I hate my mother. My mother wasn't pleased with anything I ever did. No matter how much I tried to do what she wanted, she was never satisfied. There was always something I didn't do right, and no matter how small it was, she couldn't forgive me for it.

"So when they arranged a marriage between me and Lord Comwright, I knew it was the only way I was going to get away from them. I didn't like him any more than I liked them. He was cold and full of his self-importance. I was willing to marry him because my parents were the same way.

"But when he hit a maid for spilling tea on his lap by accident, I was shocked. My parents were cruel in their own way, but they never once raised their hand to hurt me. It was then I knew I couldn't go through with the marriage. I had to find a way out of it."

"Did your parents see him hit the maid?" Anthony asked.

"No."

"Did you tell them?"

She shook her head. "It wouldn't have mattered. They wanted to get rid of me. They didn't care who my husband was going to be as long as he was willing to take me away from them."

"That can't be true," he argued. "Even if they weren't good parents, they must have wanted you to be safe in your marriage."

"We could argue about this, Anthony, but in my heart, I know you're wrong. There's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise."

She expected him to give his argument another try. It wouldn't have done any good. She knew her parents. Often, she suspected her parents were so miserable that it actually gave them a sick sense of comfort in seeing her suffer.

"Lord Comwright stayed with us for a week," she continued. "My parents had the maid pack all of my things, and they gave him my dowry. I left with him because I didn't know if I'd get another chance to escape. When we reached the first town that evening, I waited until we were in our room before I slipped laudanum into his drink to make him sleep." Sure he wondered how she got laudanum in the middle of nowhere, she added, "One of the maids took pity on me and gave me some of the laudanum my mother used to help her sleep."

"Did you marry him before this?" he asked.

"No. He told my parents he would marry me once I was at his estate."

"Are you telling me that he took you to the room at the inn with the intent of having you in his bed before you exchanged vows?"

"Well..." Even now, thinking of her time with Lord Comwright made her sick to her stomach. All that groping he'd done to her in the carriage... She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook off the memory of his grimy hands and his slobbering tongue. "He would have had his way with me whether I wanted it or not. I wasn't a person in his eyes. I was only a possession."

"But he wasn't with you. Not all the way. You were a virgin when we married."

"He fell asleep before he could finish what he'd started. That was when I emptied my valise and filled it with my dowry. Then I used a little bit of that to pay an old woman for her horse. I rode it all through the night and found another town the next morning. That was the town where we met. I had to secure a husband, and I had to do it as soon as possible. Once I married, I knew Lord Comwright couldn't get me."

"You went across the country on horseback all by yourself in the middle of the night?" Anthony blurted out, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Don't you know what a risk you were taking? What if a band of thieves came upon you? They wouldn't have stopped with stealing the money. They would have done worse."

"They would have done no worse than what Lord Comwright was trying to do."

He looked as if he was going to argue but then paused and let out a heavy sigh. "Was it that bad with him?"

"I didn't want him touching or kissing me, but he did it anyway. It made me feel unclean. I never feel that way with you. Even the first time we were together, it felt right." She cleared her throat. "I know I made some hasty decisions that led me to where I was the day we met. It's just that I was desperate to get away from him. I kept thinking no matter who I married, he couldn't be as bad as Lord Comwright. Later, I realized I very well could have ended up with someone just as bad, if not worse. Thankfully, that didn't happen. I ended up with you instead."

She finally managed to peek at him, and when she noticed the soft expression on his face, tears filled her eyes. He drew her into his arms, and she leaned into him, grateful for his support. Never in her life had anyone cared for her the way he did.

"You have nothing to worry about," he whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

"Thank you," she replied.

A few tears fell down her cheeks as she thought of how wonderful he was. He had accepted her. All of her. And better yet, he loved her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, grateful their paths had crossed at the time she had needed him most.

***

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Celia asked Anthony later that day when they were alone in his den. She was pacing the floor in front of him while he stood at his desk and watched her.

"No, I haven't," Anthony said. "Damara explained everything to me."

"Well, you haven't explained it to me." She went over to him and crossed her arms. "What is so horrible that you can't tell me. Me. Your only sister."

"I've told you all I feel at liberty to say. Her parents didn't want her, so they got rid of her by sending her off with an unsavory gentleman. She took her dowry and escaped from him. She was there on the side of the road when my carriage happened to come by. That's all you need to know."

"And you believe her? Anyone can come up with a ridiculous story like that."

"Damara didn't lie to me."

Celia rolled her eyes.

"I know she didn't." He pointed to his heart. "In here. Where it matters."

"You are so easy to fool, Anthony. I love you. Really, I do, but you are incredibly naïve to the ways of the world."

"You're younger than me, and you dare to call me naïve?"

"You bet I do. Because that is what you are. You refuse to see nothing but the best when it comes to Damara. It sickens me."

That was enough. Straightening up, he glared at her. "You're only upset because I didn't marry Loretta. This has nothing to do with Damara. This is all about the dreams you had of being Loretta's sister-in-law."

"At least we knew who Loretta was. And despite what you believe, Loretta would have been a good wife for you. She loves you so much she's been crying because you married another lady. Do you think it's easy for me to watch her heart breaking?"

"Loretta will be fine. We'll find a gentleman in London for her to marry."

"She doesn't want anyone else. She wants you."

"Well, she can't have me."

She shook her head in agitation. "I can't believe you. You keep bragging about your wise investments, and yet you married a lady who only brought you a valise full of money. Loretta could have brought in a lot more than that with her dowry."

Anthony was ready to tell her that there was more to a good marriage than money when something clicked in his mind. "Are you telling me Loretta's family really isn't financially destitute?"

Celia gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

He, in turn, also gasped. "I don't believe it! You lied to me so I'd marry your friend?" When she didn't answer, he added, "You're right, Celia. I am naïve. All this time, I've been doing exactly what you want. All you had to do was shed a few tears or tell me a lie, and I kept giving into you. Well...Well..." He was so upset that he could hardly think straight. "It's over. Your days of bending me to your will are done. I'm not going to do your bidding anymore. You're on your own."

Throwing his hands up in the air, he headed for the door.

"You're not going to throw my things out of this townhouse, are you?" she asked, hurrying after him.

He stopped and turned back to face her. No, he wouldn't. Well, not without having a place for her to go first. But maybe the threat might get her to finally treat him with respect. "I should do that."

Her face went white. "But I'm your sister."

"Yes, you are my sister. More than that, you're my younger sister, which is why I should be the one taking the lead around here. I know you wanted Loretta to be your sister-in-law, but she's not. So now you have to decide whether you're going to try to make things work with Damara or not. Damara is my wife, and I love her. If you don't like her, fine. But you will show her the respect she deserves."

"You can't blame me for being skeptical about her, Anthony. Not with the way she never talked about her past."

"I don't blame you for that. But I just finished talking to her about it, so you have no grounds to be skeptical anymore."

"You're only taking her word for it. How do we know they're as bad as she says? Maybe she did something awful to them. Maybe she's not as innocent as she seems."

He groaned. "You can never take things on faith. You always need proof. Well, I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to prove that my faith in Damara is not in vain."

"How are you going to do that?" she asked, not looking convinced.

"You and I are going to take a trip to her parents' estate. When you see how they are, you're going to admit I was right and you're going to accept Damara into our family. If you don't, then you can live with Loretta."

Before she could throw in another argument, he left the room.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dinner that evening was tense. Damara did her best to eat her meal. At one point, she dared a glance at Celia. It was apparent Celia didn't care for her. Damara had no idea why Celia even pretended to have an interest in her to begin with. Why didn't Celia just come out right away and say she resented her for marrying Anthony? Why did she act like she wanted to be her friend? As much as she wanted to come out and ask Celia those questions, she didn't dare because she didn't think she'd like the answers.

"I was thinking," Anthony told Damara, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence, "it might be nice if you visited with Iris. Iris seemed to enjoy your company at the dinner party."

Celia rolled her eyes but didn't say anything.

Damara forced her gaze off of her, so she could look at him. "Iris invited me and Candace to see the menagerie. I'm not sure which day we'll go."

Damara thought she heard Celia give a faint snort under her breath, but when she glanced back at Celia, Celia was eating her fish. Maybe she had imagined it.

"Celia," Anthony said, a hint of warning in his voice, which proved Damara hadn't imagined it after all.

Celia swallowed the food in her mouth then shot him a pointed gaze. "What?"

Damara frowned. So Celia wasn't only upset with her. She was upset with Anthony, too. But why?

Anthony tapped his fork on his plate, staring back at Celia as if to challenge her. "Just because you can't get along with Iris, it doesn't mean others can't."

"It's hard to get along with someone who doesn't want to spend time with you. Do you really want me to go through the misery of being trapped in a drawing room with her again?"

"If that's the case, then you should be thanking me for not dragging you to Warren's the other evening."

"It wasn't Iris I wanted to see, and you know it." She placed her fork down and glared at him. "You're trying to sabotage things for me. It's not enough you didn't marry Loretta. Now you're trying to prevent me from marrying Corin."

So that was why Celia was mad. She resented Damara for marrying her brother. But if that was the case, then why didn't Celia express her displeasure sooner? Why wait until now?

"I hate to be the one to say this," Anthony began, "but Corin doesn't want to marry you."

Celia gritted her teeth. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not." His voice softening, he added, "I'm sorry, Celia, but he doesn't return your feelings any more than I returned Loretta's. The best thing you can do is find someone else."

Her eyes grew wide. "Is this all because I'm not singing Damara's praises? Is that why you're being so cruel to me?"

Damara's face warmed, and she slumped into her chair, wishing she could disappear so she didn't have to be a part of this conversation.

"No," Anthony said. "Damara has nothing to do with this. I'm telling you the truth so you won't waste your time pursuing someone who doesn't want you. This is your second Season. After this, your desirability is going to greatly diminish."

"You hate me. You hate me, and it's all because of her!" Celia rose to her feet and threw the napkin on the table. Then she directed her hard gaze to Damara. "This is all your fault. You turned him against me."

Damara opened her mouth to protest. But then, what would she say? What could she say that Celia would believe?

"She did nothing of the sort," Anthony replied. "You're my sister. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I just don't want you to say no to potential suitors because of Corin. It's not in your best interest."

"You have no right to tell me what is or what is not in my best interest. You went off and married the first lady you could find because you were desperate to get out of marrying Loretta. You made a decision that was in your best interest, and nothing I could have said would have changed your mind. If you wouldn't listen to me, then why should I listen to you?"

He got ready to answer, but she hurried out of the room before he could finish the sentence.

Damara noted the poor butler, who was standing nearby in case they needed anything. Though he wasn't looking their way, he heard everything. What must he think of the whole thing? Her cheeks warmed further with embarrassment.

Anthony sat back in the chair then turned to face Damara. "When Celia and I meet your parents, she'll stop moping because I married you instead of Loretta."

Forgetting all about the butler, Damara blurted out, "You want to meet my parents?"

"I have to." He lowered his voice then added, "It's the only way to resolve everything. Celia has it in her mind that you're lying about them. She has to see the situation for herself in order to understand what you've been through. I know Celia can be unpleasant at times, but she wouldn't want someone to go through the things you did."

"How much did you tell her?" Damara whispered, thinking of the private things she'd said about Lord Comwright.

"I only told her your parents didn't want you so they arranged for you to marry an unsavory gentleman."

"Did you tell her what he did to me?"

"No. I would never tell her something that personal."

Damara breathed a sigh of relief. Well, at least there was that.

"Celia doesn't have to know everything," he continued. "She only needs to know enough to understand the predicament you were in. And that's why I need to take her to visit your parents. It's the only way she'll let go of her anger."

"I don't want to see them. Even if they were right here in London, I wouldn't see them. When I left the estate, I vowed I would never go back, no matter what."

"I'm not asking you to come with us. Given the situation, it's best if you stay here. That's why I thought it would be good for you and Iris to do something together. Then you won't get lonely while I'm gone."

After a moment of considering his words, she let out a long sigh. "They won't care that you and Celia went to see them, Anthony."

"I'm not doing this for them. I'm doing this so my sister will be nice to you." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Sincerely nice."

He was determined to do it. And who knew? Maybe he was right. Maybe this would help smooth things over between her and Celia. "All right."

"Good." He smiled. "Who are your parents, and where do they live?"

"They are Lord and Lady Ganzel." From there, she proceeded to tell him where their estate was.

***

Damara sat by the window in the drawing room. Anthony and Celia had left a week ago. It was much too soon for them to return, but she found herself wishing she'd see the familiar carriage come down the street. Even with the trip she took to the menagerie with Iris and Candace two days ago, time seemed to be going at an agonizingly slow pace.

She had no idea it could be such a painful experience to be away from someone she loved. Had it been anyone other than Anthony, she probably wouldn't even notice the passage of time. She scanned the street one more time. She shook her head. This was silly. By now, he was probably reaching her parents' estate.

Releasing her breath, she left the window. Time only went slower if she remained there too long. It was best to occupy her time with something else. The question, of course, was simple: what should she do? At her parents' estate, she was often confined to her bedchamber with books to read. But here, she had the freedom to go to any room. She could even leave the townhouse if she wanted.

One would think she'd welcome the choices. The truth, however, was that she had so many things she could do that it was hard to pick something.

She sat in one of the chairs and placed her hand over her abdomen. If the baby was already born, then she could take care of him or her. Then the time would pass much faster, she bet. It was easier to pass the time when someone else was around.

She bit her lower lip. Iris had told her she could pay her a visit whenever she wanted. Maybe she should take Iris up on the invitation.

"My lady," the butler called out.

Blinking, she turned her attention to the doorway. "Yes?"

"There's a gentleman who wishes to see you."

A gentleman? Besides Iris, she had no idea who might pay her a visit. "Do you mean a lady?"

"No, I meant a gentleman. He is Lord Comwright."

Her gut tightened in dread. "Lord Comwright?"

How did he find out where she was? She hadn't seen him in London, and she knew Anthony hadn't told Celia about him.

"Shall I tell him it's an inconvenient time?" the butler asked.

Not realizing she'd been clenching her hands together, she relaxed them and rose to her feet. "No. I'll see him."

The sooner she got this over with, the better. If he was here, then he intended to talk to her. He'd only come back later. The last thing she wanted to do was hide. She'd spent most of her life holed up in a room. She wasn't going to go back to that kind of life.

"Keep the doors open," she told the butler as he turned to leave.

Though the butler seemed curious, he offered a nod then left her alone.

She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to cower in fear anymore. She was going to start confronting things. Lord Comwright had no power over her. Her parents had no power over her. Celia had no power over her. No one had power over her. If her time with Anthony had taught her anything, it was that she had value, and because of that, she had the right to make her own decisions. And she wasn't going to let others make her feel inadequate anymore.

Heavy footsteps approached the doorway, and she straightened her shoulders. She slipped her hands behind her back in case he noticed they were trembling. Just because she was nervous, it didn't mean she had to let him know it.

He came into the room, his broad shoulders and towering frame making him look just as imposing as he had the first time she'd seen him. In some ways, he reminded her more of a monster than a man.

The butler returned to the room and told her, "I'll bring something to eat and drink."

She supposed this was the kind of thing he did any time a visitor came, so she didn't protest.

After he left, Lord Comwright said, "You might want to instruct him to close the doors. You and I have a personal matter to discuss."

"No." Noting the way her voice wavered, she cleared her throat. "They'll stay open." That was better. Not by much, but it was better all the same. "If you have something you're afraid others will hear, then you'll have to watch what you say."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You wouldn't speak to me like that if your parents were in the room."

"I wouldn't allow my parents to be in this room."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so."

She took a deep breath, hoping it might calm her racing heart enough so that she could think more clearly. She would get through this. All she had to do was stand her ground. That was it.

The butler returned to the room and set the tray on the table. As he poured tea into the cups, she glanced at Lord Comwright and realized he was looking at her with that same unsettling stare he'd given her while they were at her parents. She involuntarily shivered. Something was wrong with him. Even her parents, for all their faults, weren't as bad as he was.

With a bow, the butler left.

A long moment of silence passed before Lord Comwright asked, "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"I was waiting to see where you're going to sit," she replied.

"You didn't like being close to me at all, did you?"

She resisted the urge to grimace. "I'm married to Lord Worsley. You have no right to touch me."

With a snicker, he chose a chair that was close to her. "Given the fact that your parents refused to take you to London, your naivety is understandable. Let me be the first to tell you that marriage doesn't stop anyone from engaging with others in bed. Marriage only means you have to be discreet."

She chose a chair across from him and sat down. "I won't be doing that with you."

"The way I see it, you owe me."

"I owe you nothing. We never exchanged vows. You never had a right to be with me that way, and you never will." Forcing herself to make eye contact with him, she added, "I don't care what you say about it."

He chuckled. "My dear, if I really wanted you, I wouldn't ask your permission."

"I'm aware of what you'd do." Had it not been for the bumpy carriage, he most certainly wouldn't have waited for the inn to try to finish what he'd started. "The doors are open. You won't do anything."

"As it turns out, I'm not interested. You're too," he glanced up at the ceiling, "what's the word?" He snapped his fingers and looked at her. "Bland. Yes, that's what you are. As a virgin, you were interesting. Not so much anymore. I'm familiar with Lord Worsley and his friends. All boring. All the time."

Her eyebrows furrowed. She was about to argue that Anthony wasn't boring, but then, let him think it if it meant he wasn't interested in having her in his bed.

"Aren't you going to give me a cup of tea?" Lord Comwright asked, gesturing to the tray.

"And risk accidently spilling some on your lap? No. I won't have you hitting me like you hit that poor maid."

"The maid was careless."

"It was an accident."

"Do you think I enjoyed correcting her?"

"I hope not. If you did, that would make you a monster."

He glowered at her.

"Is there a point to your visit?" she finally asked when it became apparent he wasn't going to come out and say why he was here.

"Yes. I want to know how you did it."

"It?"

"Yes. It. How did you manage to get away from me? I've thought through the events over and over, and I can't figure it out. I had you with me in the room at the inn. But I fell asleep, and the next thing I know, it's morning and you're gone. How did you do it?"

"What good would it do if I tell you how I got away from you?"

"Because nothing I claimed has ever escaped me before. You were supposed to be my wife. But here you are, married to someone else."

"So this is a matter of pride? I managed to outwit you, and it bothers you?"

"No one outwits me. Ever."

What a vain thing to worry about. He hadn't cared about her. He hadn't even cared about the money. He'd only cared about his bruised ego.

"Since you asked, I'll tell you," she decided. "But only on the condition that you won't come back here. I don't want to see you again."

"I don't want to see you, either, so that's an easy agreement to make."

"Fine. While we were still at my parents, I realized I couldn't spend the rest of my life with you. The night before we left my parents' estate, I slipped my mother's laudanum into my valise. When we arrived at the inn, I poured some into your cup. As I hoped, you fell asleep. That's when I took my money and went to the next town where I found my husband."

"You didn't find someone to take you there? Maybe pay your way to the next town?"

"Well, I did pay for a horse."

"And rode it with someone," he said.

"No, I rode it by myself."

"And no one attacked you along the way?"

"No," she replied.

"Why would you take such a big risk?"

"When someone feels like they have nothing to lose, is there really a risk involved?"

He remained silent for a long moment then asked, "You wanted to get away from me so much that you were willing to risk your life?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't have thought such a thing possible," he replied. "But you're sitting in front of me, and you're alive and well."

She wasn't sure how to answer that, so she chose not to.

"I suppose in this case, you got lucky," he said.

"Yes, I did."

"Then there wasn't anything I could have done to have changed the outcome. You were lucky, and that's all there is to it." He let out a long sigh then rose to his feet. "A gentleman can't conquer something as stupid as luck."

She watched as he left the drawing room, but it wasn't until she heard the front door open and close that she relaxed. She collapsed into the chair and closed her eyes. She'd done it. She'd gotten through the ordeal.

She didn't have to worry about Lord Comwright anymore. And better yet, after facing him, she knew she could handle whatever happened with Celia because now she knew she could stand her ground against a formidable opponent.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was around midday when the carriage arrived at Lord and Lady Ganzel's estate. Anthony glanced at his sister who was trying to read a book. The only reason he knew she was trying to read was because she had been on the same page for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyelids kept drooping, and occasionally, she had to jerk herself awake. He couldn't blame her. These trips to the country were boring. There was little else to do but wait to arrive at one's destination.

"We're here," he told her.

Celia looked up from the book and peered out the small window of the carriage. "How long do you think this will take?"

"How long we're here is not the point of this trip."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. The whole point of this trip is for you to make me like Damara by making me feel sorry for her."

"I'm not asking you to like Damara. I'm asking that you show her the respect due to her because she's my wife. You don't have to put on a pretense of being her friend, but you need to treat her well. I don't want you treating her the same way you treat Iris."

"I was nice to Iris when she came over to our townhouse for that dinner party."

"Don't lie to me, Celia. Warren told me about it, and he said you and Loretta didn't treat Iris well at all."

She looked as if she was going to protest, so he gave her the same hard glare that their grandmother had used whenever one of them had tried to get away with misbehaving.

After a moment, she groaned and closed the book. "I don't like Iris. She's boring. I don't know what you were thinking by letting her attend the dinner party."

"She was betrothed to Warren, and Warren was one of our guests. He had a right to bring her."

"In that case, I wish you hadn't invited him. It was bad enough we had to listen to you and all the other gentlemen talk about investments through the entire dinner. Afterwards, you shoved Iris at me and Loretta. You knew very well Loretta and I have nothing in common with her. Did you really expect the whole thing to go well?"

"I expected you to be nice to her because she was a guest in our home." He straightened in the seat and turned toward her. "You better not treat Damara the same way you treated Iris. I don't like the idea of forcing you out of the townhouse, but I will if I have to. Do you understand?"

Her jaw dropped. "Why do you assume I was at fault for the entire thing? Iris wasn't all that nice, either. First of all, she didn't even want to be with me and Loretta. She had fully intended to spend the rest of the evening with the gentlemen. How do you think that made me feel? Then as if that wasn't bad enough, she called me and Loretta senseless chits and said we were boring. So if you're going to be upset with me, then you should be upset with her, too."

Since he hadn't been in the drawing room when all of this took place, it was impossible to tell if Iris had really said those things or not. Even so, that evening had nothing to do with Damara. The sooner he dropped the subject, the sooner they could get back to the matter at hand.

The carriage came to a stop, and he redirected his gaze to his sister. "I love you, Celia. You're my sister, and I will always want what's best for you. But I love Damara, too, and anything that happens to her is of great concern to me. We're united in marriage. I know that doesn't mean anything to most of the people in London, but it means something to me. When you're not nice to her, you're not nice to me."

The footman opened the door, but he waited until Celia indicated she understood before he got out of the carriage. He extended his hand to his sister and helped her down.

"I'll let Lord and Lady Ganzel know you're here," the footman said then headed for the entrance.

Celia crossed her arms as she took in the manor. "If it turns out Damara's parents are wonderful, then what? Are you going to still insist I be nice to her?"

"They're not wonderful."

"She could have lied to you."

"She didn't."

She shook her head, not the least bit happy with his answer.

He urged her to go with him to the entrance, and thankfully, she willingly did so. She was probably as certain that Damara had played him for a fool as he was that Damara hadn't. One way or another, though, the matter would soon be resolved.

Once they were welcomed into the drawing room, the butler notified them that Lord and Lady Ganzel would be with them in a moment. "In the meantime," the butler continued, "make yourself comfortable. Is there anything you wish to eat or drink?"

"Black tea and crumpets," Celia replied before Anthony could say anything.

The butler bowed and left.

"Was that really necessary, Celia?" he asked.

She glanced at him. "Are you upset because I told the butler what I wanted?"

"It would have been nice if you had made sure I wanted the same things you did."

"You made me come all the way out here to see these people. The least you can do is let me eat and drink what I want." She sat in a chair and scanned the room. "I can see how much Damara suffered while she was here. These things are nicer than what you own, and the butler is willing to provide me with anything I want." She sighed in mock despair. "I'm sure if I was stuck in this place, I'd run off with a valise full of money, too."

"Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"I'm not being difficult. You're the one who married a lady you didn't know anything about. Anyone in my situation would be questioning the wisdom of your actions."

He decided not to comment. She'd find out soon enough that wealth was a poor substitute for love.

The butler set the tray of refreshments on the table.

As he left, Celia poured herself a cup of tea and picked up a crumpet. Anthony glanced at the clock. Five minutes had passed since the butler had brought them to this room. Since there was nothing else to do, he sat down and crossed his legs.

Celia sipped her drink and nibbled the crumpet in silence until they heard footsteps approaching the room. She set the cup and remaining crumpet down and joined Anthony in standing up.

A middle-aged and well-dressed lady entered first. She had to be Damara's mother. The resemblance between the two was striking. The middle-aged gentleman following was handsome in his own right, too. But when Anthony met his gaze, he got the feeling that her father wasn't all that pleased to see him.

"Our butler said you married Damara," Lady Ganzel told Anthony.

"Yes, I did," Anthony replied.

He waited for either Damara's mother or father to sit, but they remained standing. Not feeling at liberty to sit since they weren't, he decided to stay on his feet.

"We thought Lord Comwright was going to marry her," Damara's mother said.

"He didn't," Anthony replied. "I met her while she was still betrothed to him. She married me instead."

"Well," her mother began, "I hope you're not here to bring her back."

"Or demand her dowry since Lord Comwright took it," Damara's father added.

Celia frowned. "I don't understand. Aren't you upset she married someone else when she was supposed to marry Lord Comwright?"

"Who are you? His mistress?" Damara's father asked Celia, gesturing to Anthony.

Celia gagged and looked at Anthony. "Hardly! I'm his sister."

"Then what do you care if he married Damara?" her father asked.

"That wasn't the point of my question," Celia replied. "I'm merely curious as to why you aren't upset that my brother is the reason your daughter didn't marry the gentleman you had arranged for her to be with."

Damara's mother shrugged. "Why should we care who Damara married as long as she's married?"

"I would care if my daughter married someone other than the gentleman I had selected for her," Celia replied.

"Then care when it's your daughter," the mother said. "But since Damara's not your daughter, it's not your concern."

"And you're not getting any money from us," Damara's father spoke up, his attention going back to Anthony. "If you want the dowry, you'll have to go to Lord Comwright for it."

"I'm not here for the money," Anthony said.

"Then you can't bring her back," Damara's mother told him. "She's your burden now. We did our part. Now it's time to do yours. Marriage is forever, you know."

"Right," Damara's father agreed.

"I don't understand any of this," Celia said, glancing from one parent to the other.

"Young lady," the father began, narrowing his eyes at her, "if you listened instead of inserting your thoughts into the conversation, then perhaps you would understand what's going on around you."

Anthony's eyes widened, and Celia looked as if she'd been slapped. "You're talking to my sister," Anthony said. "Despite what you seem to think, she's an intelligent lady. Her confusion stems from that fact that you're not concerned about your daughter's welfare."

"Why should we care?" the father asked. "She couldn't inherit a title, and it was because of her my wife had a difficult labor that made her unable to conceive again."

Anthony glanced over at his sister, wondering if she believed Damara now, and by the way her expression fell, he knew she did. Maybe if she had known their own parents better, she wouldn't have been so surprised by the way Damara's parents were acting. Their own parents, after all, had been more interested in satisfying their pleasures rather than raising their children, leaving both him and Celia to the care of their grandparents.

Being older, Anthony remembered their parents better than Celia did. Their grandparents hadn't had the heart to say anything negative about their parents. And Anthony, not wishing to upset Celia, had kept what he knew to himself. Perhaps he'd done her a disservice without realizing it. She'd been led to believe their parents had been busy with missionary work, a much nobler venture than what they'd actually been doing.

The few times their parents had visited them, they had showered him and Celia with affection. Anthony supposed they'd made those token visits for the sake of appeasing their guilt.

Anthony turned his attention back to Damara's parents. "I love Damara. She's the best thing that's happened to me. Her place is with me. It's not here. I don't want any money from you, and I'm not trying to return her to you." Before he said anything he might end up regretting later, he tucked his hand around Celia's elbow. "I just wanted you to know she's safe and that she'll be taken care of for the rest of her life."

Her parents, predictably, didn't seem affected by his words, but he'd felt the need to say them, to let them know that even if they didn't value their daughter, someone did.

"Come," he told Celia. "We've wasted enough time here."

As he escorted Celia out of the room, Damara's father called out, "We hope you don't make these visits a regular occurrence."

"We won't," he replied, not bothering to glance back at them. "This is the last time you'll see us."

It took all of his willpower to say a polite good-bye to the butler on their way out. The only real solace he had was knowing that Celia had seen the situation for herself.

They went into the carriage, and Anthony sat next to his sister in silence. He stared out the small window on his side, and Celia, who hadn't bothered picking her book back up, stared out the window on her side. Each one, it seemed, would be spending most of the trip back lost in their own thoughts.

***

"Are you sure you don't mind taking a walk in this park?" Iris asked Damara a day later.

Damara shook her head as she kept her pace even with Iris'. "No, I don't mind. I know I was hesitant to be out here when you suggested it at your husband's dinner party."

And even now, Damara didn't want to explain why she'd balked at the idea of walking in Hyde Park, especially in the late afternoon when so many people were around. Doing so would only lead to a discussion about Lord Comwright, and she didn't feel like talking about him. Who knew if that would lead to talk of how she met him, which, in turn, would lead to her parents? She didn't want to dwell on the past. She wanted to focus on the future.

Damara smiled at Iris. "I'm not used to a lot of people." Which was true. "But you and I get along well, and I'm not here alone."

Iris returned her smile. "I know how you feel. I don't have an easy time with people, either. I feel like I don't have anything interesting to say, especially to other ladies. Money is my favorite topic."

"Well, there is a lot you can do with it."

"Yes, that's true. There is. But ladies would rather talk about how to spend it than how to save it."

"Are you telling me you don't like to spend it? Not even a little bit?"

Iris laughed. "Of course, I like to spend it. I just like to save it more than I like spending it."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Iris. If people can't accept that about you, then you don't need to spend time with them."

"I thought you seemed like the type of lady who could be a good friend when we met," Iris confided, "and as it turns out, I was right."

"I didn't have any friends while growing up. It's nice to have someone to talk to while Anthony's gone."

"How much longer do you think that will be?"

"He should be back within five days." At least she hoped so.

"Anthony's a nice gentleman," Iris replied with a smile. "Warren has nothing but respect for him."

"The feeling is mutual."

After a moment of silence passed between them, Iris said, "I'm not sure how much you know about my relationship with Celia, but I hope we can be friends even if she and I don't get along."

Damara had wondered if Celia's name would come up at some point during one of their conversations, and since Iris had mentioned her, now seemed to be a good time to address the issue. "I don't care what Celia thinks about you. I like you, and that's all that matters."

Iris' smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that. I know she's your sister-in-law. I didn't want to make things difficult for you by being friends with you."

Touched by Iris' concern for her, Damara's heart warmed. Yes, Iris would make a wonderful friend. There was no doubt about it. "You won't make things difficult," she assured Iris. "It's up to me to choose who I'm friends with, and I'm not going to let anyone else make that choice for me."

In fact, that was why Damara had decided to decline Lady Eloise's invitation in her group. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to be with Iris right now at Hyde Park, and there was no way she was going to shut herself off from such a good friend.

"I'm relieved," Iris said. Then, with a teasing gleam in her eye, she added, "You really don't mind if I talk about money?"

"No, I don't."

"Good because I'm excited about the captain's upcoming voyage out to sea. I can't decide what to do with my portion of the profits when they come in, and I think I'm exhausting poor Warren by going over my options again and again."

"Ah, so you want to discuss spending money?"

"A little. But I'm also thinking of ways to invest, too."

"Go on and tell me all about it," Damara encouraged.

As the two continued their walk, Iris did just that.

***

Finally, four days later at 10:35pm, Anthony and Celia arrived at the townhouse. Damara was so excited to see Anthony again that she dropped the book she'd been reading and ran to the entryway to hug him.

Laughing, he gave her a long kiss and returned her hug. "I missed you so much," he whispered.

"I missed you, too," she replied. "I'm glad you're back."

"It's good to be back." He caressed her cheek and smiled at her. "I heard that when ladies are with child there's a glow to their faces. Now I know it's true."

"That glow has something to do with you, too," she replied. "I hope we won't have to be separated again. I don't like it when you're gone."

"That was the only time. I promise."

Someone cleared her throat, and Damara glanced over at Celia, surprised the lady hadn't left the entryway since the servants had already gone about their duties.

Damara let go of Anthony and turned to Celia. "I know you wanted Loretta to be your sister-in-law, and I understand why you're disappointed that your brother married me instead. But-"

Damara didn't get the chance to finish her next sentence because Celia embraced her and said, "I'm sorry, Damara. I had no idea parents could be so cruel. Then I met yours, and-and-" Her voice choked on a sob.

At first, Damara didn't know how to respond, but after a moment, she put her arms around Celia and hugged her back.

"I'm sorry you had to grow up like that," Celia whispered. "Now I know why you don't want to talk about your past. It must be too painful to think about."

"I'm just glad I found your brother when I did."

"You want to know something?" Celia pulled away from her and wiped tears from her eyes. "I am, too. After all you went through, you deserve to be happy."

"So you're not upset with me?"

"Well, a part of me still wishes my brother had married Loretta," Celia admitted. "But," she smiled, "you two make a good couple, and you will be a good mother to my nephew or niece."

"Yes," Anthony said, slipping his arm around Damara's waist, "she will." His gaze went to Damara. "Even if we have all girls, I'll be happy."

"I will, too," Damara agreed.

"And if I happen to have a son, he'll get the title, so all will be well," Celia spoke up then looked at Damara. "Can we start over?"

Damara nodded. "I'd like that."

"Thank you," Celia replied.

The butler came up to them. "I notified Cook of your return. What shall I have him make?"

"Actually," Celia began, "it's been a tiring trip. I think I'll just have tea and go to bed."

The butler glanced over at Anthony.

"I think I'll just go to bed," Anthony said, giving Damara's a waist a gentle squeeze to let her know what he had in mind.

Her cheeks warmed. She was glad he'd been subtle about it so no one else caught his meaning.

"In that case, I'll see you two tomorrow morning," Celia told them.

After wishing her a good night, Anthony led Damara up the stairs. Halfway up, he said, "I've never been happier to be in London. You're the best thing in my life."

She smiled. "You're the best thing in my life, too."

With a smile, he kissed her cheek then took her to bed.
Don't miss the rest of this series!

The Rake's Vow (Book 2)

Thaddeus (Tad) Darkin, the Duke of Lambeth, used to be a rake. In fact, before Lord Edon was scandalizing the Ton, Tad was the one everyone was talking about. Many gentlemen secretly wished they had his charm with the ladies. All reputable ladies were warned to stay as far from him as possible, which only made him all the more attractive. Then, after a tragic event, he took a vow of celibacy, promising he would never be intimate with another lady again. Over the years, this caused him to be the most sought-after single gentleman in all of London. And even though he doesn't want to marry, his steward left him in financial ruin, so whether he likes it or not, he must take a wife.

After being rejected by the gentleman she was hoping to marry, Miss Loretta Bachman is on a mission to save her reputation. She needs to marry someone who will impress the prestigious ladies in her social circle. So when she catches the leader of the group talking about the very handsome and hard-to-get Duke of Lambeth, she's determined to get him to marry her. All she needs is a little bargaining power, and fortunately for her, she happens to have the money he needs to save his estate.

When she learns of his vow to remain celibate, she agrees to keep away from his bed. After all, her only reason for marrying him is to secure her social standing in London, not to have a love match. All she asks is that he pretends to be deeply in love with her when they're in public. That way she will succeed in impressing the Ton. But before long, the lines between what is pretend and what is real starts to blur, and it's hard to decide how far to push the limits of their agreement.

Taming the Viscountess (Book 3)

Sebastian Egan, Viscount Erandon, needs a significant amount of money in order to pay off his brother's debts. The sooner he gets it, the better. But he's not exactly what ladies are looking for. Having lost half of his right leg while at sea, most ladies consider him to be a useless cripple, and in London where things are all about appearances, they don't want to be seen with him. Traditional means of finding a wife are not open to him. He will need to find a creative way of marrying a lady who comes from a wealthy family.

As it just so happens, such a way opens up to him. Miss Celia Barlow, nicknamed Miss "Shrew" Barlow, has upset her brother for the last time. Her brother has had enough of her manipulative ways, and he's offering a large dowry to the first gentleman who is willing to take her. Sebastian, seeing his chance, takes the bait, and the wedding is set.

At once, he's drawn to Celia's fiery spirit. Yes, the others in London consider her to be a shrew, but that's because they're afraid of a lady who knows what she wants and goes for it. His new wife is no timid wallflower. She is full of passion, and, to his pleasure, that passion extends to the bed.

But soon, just having her body isn't enough. He wants to claim something much more precious. He wants her heart. He used to think that being the captain of a ship was the most challenging thing he could do. Now, he's about to discover that being the husband of a lady with a fiery, independent spirit is far more challenging...and far more rewarding.

If It Takes A Scandal (Book 4)

A liberated widow. An impoverished earl. A forced marriage may be just what they needed...

Lady Candace Daniel is finally free from her cruel, abusive husband. He's in no position to order her around from six-feet under. And with all the fun she's having on the social circuit, she intends to never let a man have that kind of power again...

Corin St. George has inherited an earldom and a ramshackle estate. He's toiled for years to restore the property to its former glory, and he has little respect for the noblewomen around him squandering their husbands' fortunes...

But when Corin is thrust into a compromising predicament at a ball, he's forced to marry Candace, the unlucky widow who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neither spouse has an interest in being together... until friends and fate conspire to show them the possibility of love...

All Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

(Chronological Order)

Regencies

Marriage by Scandal Series

The Earl's Inconvenient Wife

A Most Unsuitable Earl

His Reluctant Lady

The Earl's Scandalous Wife

Marriage by Deceit Series

The Earl's Secret Bargain

Love Lessons With the Duke

Ruined by the Earl

The Earl's Stolen Bride

Marriage by Arrangement Series

His Wicked Lady

Her Devilish Marquess

The Earl's Wallflower Bride

Marriage by Bargain Series

The Viscount's Runaway Bride

Standalone Regency

Her Counterfeit Husband

Historical Western Romances

Pioneer Series

Wagon Trail Bride

The Marriage Agreement

Nebraska Series

Her Heart's Desire

A Bride for Tom

A Husband for Margaret

Eye of the Beholder

The Wrong Husband

Shotgun Groom

To Have and To Hold

His Redeeming Bride

Isaac's Decision

Chance at Love Series

The Convenient Mail Order Bride

The Mistaken Mail Order Bride

The Accidental Mail Order Bride

South Dakota Series

Loving Eliza

Bid for a Bride

Bride of Second Chances

Montana Collection

Mitch's Win

Boaz's Wager

Patty's Gamble

Native American Romance Series

Restoring Hope

A Chance In Time

Brave Beginnings

Bound by Honor, Bound by Love

Virginia Series

An Unlikely Place for Love

The Cold Wife

An Inconvenient Marriage

Romancing Adrienne

Standalone Historical Western Romances

Falling In Love With Her Husband

Kent Ashton's Backstory

Catching Kent

His Convenient Wife

Meant To Be

The Mail Order Bride's Deception

Contemporary Romances

Omaha Series

With This Ring, I Thee Dread

What Nathan Wants

Just Good Friends

Across the Stars Series

Suddenly a Bride

Runaway Bride

His Abducted Bride

Standalone Contemporary

Substitute Bride

Romance Anthologies

Historical Western Anthologies (with Janet Syas Nitsick)

Bride by Arrangement

A Groom's Promise

Contemporary Anthology

Bride by Design (under pen name Barbara Joan Russell; written with Catherine Lynn)

Thrillers

Return of the Aliens (Christian End-Times Novel)

Late One Night (flash fiction)

Fantasies

Enchanted Galaxy Series

A Royal Engagement

Royal Hearts

The Royal Pursuit

Royal Heiress

Nonfiction

Writing Tips Series

11 Tips for New Writers

The Emotionally Engaging Character
Where To Find Ruth

To find out more about Ruth Ann Nordin's books and upcoming titles, you can go to the following sites:

Her Author Blog: http://ruthannnordinauthorblog.wordpress.com

Her Website:

www.ruthannnordin.com

