Chapter 1
Lady Felicity Sutton could not stop herself from plucking yet another glass of lemonade from the tray of a passing footman. Her brother had reminded her multiple times that tonight’s mission was to enchant one of the unwed lordlings wending their way about the ballroom before her. She was supposed to be on the hunt for dukes and marquesses, not sweet, delicious lemonade.
Yet no matter how many soirées she attended, or how fine the orchestra played for the dancers, a large part of Felicity could never forget how things had been Before. Back when there were no new clothes, much less fancy gowns. Back when the siblings’ only society was each other. Back when the cost of sugar or lemons was so dear, the idea of lemonade was just another unobtainable dream.
Even more than the chandeliers overhead and the elegant revelers surrounding her, nothing reminded her how far they’d come quite like the simple luxury of cold, tart-sweet lemonade any time she wished.
“No wool-gathering,” her brother, now the Duke of Colehaven, murmured into her ear. “Concentrate onearl-gathering.”
“I’m planning my attack,” she assured him.
Cole’s relief was obvious. “Tonight’s the night?”
“This Season is the Season.”
She hoped. Catching a man’s eye was one thing. Convincing the right man to the altar was another.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Cole ceased scolding her like a mother hen and threaded his way back across the ballroom toward his new wife.
Felicity shook her head fondly. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her brother, and nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
It had been the two of them against the world since as far back as she could remember. Back then, he had been Caleb, and she had more often than not been “Felix.” Now she was Lady Felicity and he was the Duke of Colehaven.
A few short months ago, Cole had fallen in love and taken a wife. He had never been happier, and he wanted the same happiness for his sister. In the form of a duke, ideally. Or, he supposed, an earl, if she absolutely must lower her sights. She’d hadsix Seasons. The horror! Surely it was time to make a choice.
She strode into the retiring room and made her way to one of the free spaces before the Barkleys’ grand, gilt-edged looking-glass. A mahogany table placed just beneath the edge of the frame brimmed with all the accoutrements a lady exhausted by dancing might require.
Rosewater to reduce the puffiness beneath one’s eyes, spare pins for one’s hair, squares of cloth to dip in a bowl of iced water and press against the back of one’s heated neck. Felicity loved all of it. Other ladies might take such luxuries for granted, but the scent of rosewater or the relief of a cold compress against her neck never failed to make her feel like a princess in a fairy tale.
“I fear I shall vomit,” whispered an ashen debutante to Felicity’s left, followed by a panicked cry of distress. “Oh dear, IpromisedI wouldn’t say ‘vomit’ at the party! I’m not sick, I’m just…hopeless.”
Felicity turned to the young woman with a smile. “How do you do? I’m Lady Felicity Sutton.”
The girl grew even paler. “I said ‘vomit’ in front of the Duke of Colehaven’s sister?” The young lady buried her face in her hands. “I’m ruined.”
“None of that,” Felicity said with amusement. “I’m not so missish, and besides, if you would like to know a secret… titled people vomit, too. Butyouwon’t, will you? Not in that pretty white gown. You look lovely. I imagine your dance card was filled in seconds.”
“Almost,” the girl admitted. She gave Felicity an abashed smile. “Thank you for being so kind. I’m Alexandra Corning. This is my first Season.”
Felicity returned her smile. “Every lady present here tonight has had a first Season. You’ll get used to it.”
“Nottooused to it, I hope,” Miss Corning said fervently. “I daren’t become aspinster.”
The hushed word was spoken in the same tone as one might sayleperorpariahorworthlessordoomed.
Felicity did not blame Miss Corning for being dramatic. Most marriageable young ladies tended to share that view. Indeed, Felicity’s four-and-twenty years were the reason why her brother despaired of her ever bringing a suitor up to scratch. Felicity had nothing against dukes and earls, but she wanted somethingmorethan luxury and a title and wealth.
She wanted tosharethe riches.
It wasn’t enough to provide for her children and her children’s children. She needed to do everything within her power to improve the lives of the countless impoverished children out in the streets and in the rookeries, struggling to get through each day. Children like she and Cole had once been. Children who desperately needed someone to care about them.
“Don’t worry about becoming a spinster,” she told Miss Corning. “Try to relax.”
“I can’t,” Miss Corning said miserably. “My parents expect perfection.”
“Everyone has a different definition of ‘perfect,’” Felicity responded.
It had taken every minute of her six Seasons to find a man who fit Cole’s requirementsandhers.
