Mother—Lady Victoria Moore to those who cared about the whispers in the drawing rooms—had managed their home like she arranged his life—clean, polished, and impossible. There hadn’t beenenough left in his trust for the spring term. But she didn’t worry.
“You will not be turned away,” she’d said, “as long as your title maintains the respect of the realm.”
Poor Mother. Still living in the golden echo of a fading world. She hadn’t noticed that the Ton only stayed friendly so long as the money flowed. Nor that every debutante she paraded past him smiled athis title, nothis face. Not one had fallen forhim—because no one had ever truly seen him.
And wasn’t that what he wanted? Someone who saw the man, not the marquess.
Back at Oxford, he’d have his tiny staff again—a housekeeper, a cook, a valet. Chatwick, the butler, ran the house with his wife and their twelve-year-old son, who’d taken to helping about.
A warm meal. An even warmer fire. Familiar faces.
He could almost taste the calm and joy of a fresh beer from Thomas’s brewery while sitting near the fire and reading for his classes. Blissful times compared to… well… everything in Town.
The diluted broth at the inn was more salted water than soup, the kind Mrs. Chatwick would never serve, not even in a pinch. Still, after a few spoonfuls, Paul looked less like he might collapse on the inn floor.
“It’s seven miles to Fort Balmore,” Sebastian said at last. He couldn’t wait to reach his best friend’s castle in Elysian Fields. He’d nearly grown up there and missed it. “Think we can make it?”
“They don’t expect you till tomorrow, milord,” Paul replied, eyeing the snow lashing the windows. “You know the Earl of Lindsey doesn’t like surprise visitors.”
Sebastian did. Thomas Dunbridge—the Earl of Linsey—was his closest friend. He also hated surprises, but Sebastian wasn’t worried. Not really.
They’d shared rooms at Eton. Spent summers in each other’s homes. Every year after Christmas, Sebastiancollected Thomas and they drove into the countryside and forgot who they were.
Just boys again. Before the titles mattered.
“All right,” Sebastian said, straightening. “Let’s surprise the earl, then.”
Chapter Three
Maddie’s fingers dancedover the keys of the pianoforte, the opening bars of Mozart’sSonata in A Majorrippling through the quiet room. Her technique was questionable, but her love for the instrument wasn’t. She always played alone—not because she was shy, but because she preferred to play as badly as she did without an audience.
The music filled the air, and for a moment, so did peace. Her left hand chased after her right in a clumsy duet—not a performance, but a conversation. One where no one interrupted or scolded her.
She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in it. Mozart didn’t mind her mistakes. Mozart didn’t ask about husband candidates Mother approved, or the sort of exciting man Maddie had hoped for instead.
When the final note faded, she took a deep breath and held it, trying to summon the courage the music gave her for just one more hour. It slipped through her fingers. Her mother would never stop pushing. And there was no harmony—not in her playing, not in her future, not in the face of choosing a husband like selecting fruit at market, lest she not land Paisley, whose mother was her mother’s friend and… oh dear! He was perfect on paper and couldn’t be more vexing in person. If she couldn’t secure another proposal, Paisley would come for her and her dowry before her mother arrived. And if the viscountess found out that Ashley’s engagement celebration turned into a hastened wedding, there would be no mercy, and Maddie would be all but thrust into his hands.
A cold chill ran down her back.
Her thoughts spun to the last few weeks. Every dance, every tea, every practiced smile. Sometimes, it felt like breathing through gowns laced too tight. She wanted to prove her mother wrong so desperately and to escape the scheme she and Paisley’s mother had concocted for them—and yet…
She wanted to fall in love, too. And those two things never seemed to belong in the same sentence. She wanted something simple and impossible at once. Warmth that lasted.
There were ways to catch a duke.
None of them involvedaffection.But Maddie—for all her faults—wasn’t ruthless enough to trap someone without feeling.
A cold marriage?No, thank you.She didn’t need fireworks. But she needed warmth.
Otherwise, what would be the point?
The melody still hummed in the air. It quieted the storm inside her, just for now. Good that Charlene was nearby. She didn’t know what she’d do without her. As for Ashley… Maddie shook her head. Her friend’s engagement had been the sort of twist usually found in novels.
An enemy turned suitor. A proposal built on revenge. And somehow, love had crept in through the cracks.
Maddie had expected disaster when Ashley planned a vendetta against Thomas but somehow, they fell in love instead. What she got from watching her friend love so fiercely was proof thatanythingwas possible.
Though Ashley had barely surfaced since the engagement was announced—odd, even for her. She’d even skipped breakfast claiming she couldn’t eat in the morning.So strange!Still, Maddie had her own dilemma to manage.
