Chapter One
Lady Amelia Brimley
“Ten, nine, eight...” Lord Oliver, Duke of Hayesford’s deep baritone rang out as he counted down for our game of hide and seek.
I sat sideways on the L-shaped branch of the oak tree in the private garden outside Brimley House in Grosvenor’s Square. My four-year-old nephew Ethan was wedged between the tree trunk and a taller vertical branch above me. He had one arm looped around the branch, his other clamped over his mouth as he tried to contain his merriment.
“Three, two, one.” Oliver finished counting. He spun on his boot heel and put a hand to his forehead. With an exaggerated motion, he searched the surrounding area. We were a few feet above the ground, with Oliver standing several yards away from us. He could clearly see us, but he kept up the pretense of searching. My heart swelled with affection for him. “Ethan, where are you?” he called.
Ethan’s giggles escaped, his little body shaking with glee.
My own lips curved at their antics. The duke’s blond hair ruffled in the slight breeze, a hint of rain in the air. At nineteen, he was a month older than me, and we’d been friends since childhood. He’d told everyone when we were children he wanted to marry me. Our families took his words to heart, and all,including me, had expected an actual proposal at the end of my first season.
“Where have you gone?” Oliver put his hands on his hips and exhaled an inflated breath.
The heartbreaking death of my beloved sister Sally cut the season short, and the engagement had no longer seemed so urgent. I swallowed the crushing sense of loss and willed the tears to stay at bay for Ethan’s sake. It would upset the boy to see me crying over his mother.
“Did you lose something?” a man called out. While I couldn’t see him well through the thick foliage, I recognized my brother-in-law’s voice.
Noah rounded the tree and appeared next to Oliver, his dark hair brushed back from his forehead. He was a tad shorter than Oliver and lean. He’d been a commander in Her Majesty’s Navy, and his skin carried a warm hue from being outdoors.
“It appears as if your son is missing. I thought we were playing hide and seek.” Oliver’s grin lit up his entire face, enhancing his sea-blue eyes. He was a handsome man with a kind soul. He nudged Noah with his elbow, the fabric of his brown tweed coat pulling at his broad shoulders.
“Oh no, Ethan is gone?” Noah placed his hand across his heart and stumbled backward, earning outright laughter from his son. My heart rate picked up at the sight. While my strongest affections lay with Oliver, Noah and I developed a bond after my sister died. He dropped to his knees and pounded his fist on his chest. “No, Ethan, don’t leave me!”
“I’m here, Papa, I’m here,” Ethan yelled out, nearly toppling from his seat.
Alarmed, I reached up and grabbed his arm to steady him, the fan hanging from my wrist hitting the tree branch with a muted tap. Oliver rushed over to us from behind, his firm hand encircling my waist, his other on Ethan’s back to balancehim. The leaves on the low tree branch shook from our jerky movements.
“I see my boy is making trouble.” Noah looped his arm around Ethan and pulled the laughing child from the tree.
“Hold on tight,” Oliver whispered in my ear. A keen sense of awareness skittered up my spine, and I leaned back into him. If my mother saw me now, she’d have a fit. It wasn’t ladylike to climb trees. Nor would she be pleased to see her grandson in what she’d deem a dangerous situation. As children, Sally and I often climbed the apple tree at my father’s country estate to pick an apple for our ponies. Of course, my staid brother Albert threatened to tell on us, but Sally had a knack for cajoling him into complacency. Sally’s death scarred all of us. I missed my sister every day and still couldn’t believe she was gone.
Ethan wrapped his legs around his father’s waist and fell backward. Noah caught his back, allowing his son to hang down until his blond hair stood on end.
“I was hiding from Lord Oliver, and he didn’t see me,” Ethan said, his arms dangling down toward the grass but not yet touching. He was a rambunctious child, full of energy.
“You were hidden well. I almost missed you myself.” Noah twirled his son in a tight circle, the child’s screams of delight cutting through the air. Father and son had an unbreakable bond. While their coloring was as different as night and day, Ethan possessed his father’s strong nose and striking tawny eyes.
I turned to look over my shoulder at Oliver, close enough to see the thickness of his lashes. His grandmother, Lady Gwendolyn, Duchess of Hayesford, and my mother were pressuring him to make our engagement official the day after my parents’ year of mourning was over. Since Sally was my sister, my deep mourning had ended six months ago, but out of respect,Oliver had waited the full year to ask for my hand. The prospect hadn’t thrilled me, but I respected it.
“My savior,” I said, my gaze falling to his mouth before I caught his eye once more. If we were alone, I’d beg a kiss. Since our families expected us to marry, we often exchanged such affections. Unfortunately, we were seldom alone. My mother kept an eagle eye on me. “Shall I grant you a reward?”
A telltale blush flushed his cheeks. Given his exalted station in life, he was very cautious not to draw undue attention to himself for fear of inviting scandal. We were among family, but there were certain proprieties we had to adhere to. “Your thanks is gratitude enough.” He leaned in close, his lips near my ear. “For now.”
Every nerve in my body flared to life at the promise in his voice. Our light banter pleased me. Lately, things had been strained between us, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. He had delayed asking for my hand before the start of my first season because he claimed he wanted me to enjoy it unencumbered. I had indulged his request to placate him and even carried on multiple flirtations with some rather charming gentlemen. No matter how enjoyable it was to be courted with such vigor, all of them fell flat compared to Oliver. He was the man for me.
“Do you promise?” I asked. Oliver had become introspective of late. He’d always been reserved, and I tried to shake off the notion that something wasn’t right between us.
Noah stopped spinning Ethan and stumbled a bit on the lawn to right himself, laughing as he returned to the tree. His hair was disheveled, one dark lock falling over his broad forehead.
Oliver squeezed my waist and placed his chin on my shoulder. The smooth skin of his cheek rested against mine. He was a very affectionate man and sensitive to my needs. I loved him and wanted to be his wife.
“Your mother told us luncheon would soon be served. Perhaps it would be wise for you to get down, Amelia,” Oliver said. His tone sounded rather strained, which meant he was worried for me. As a duke, society forced him to present strength to the world, but my mother was a formidable woman, and he’d developed a healthy fear of her sharp tongue. Most people fawned over Oliver with embarrassing frequency, but no matter how hard he tried, she’d never warmed up to him.
Noah lowered Ethan to the ground, the veins under the skin of his hands prominent. Unlike Oliver, my mother doted on my brother-in-law. I admired Noah greatly. He was a loving father who adored his children, and I wasn’t sure how I could have survived after Sally’s death without his presence. “It is also time for my son to get cleaned up. His grandmother will not be pleased to find a ruffian in her midst.”
“I’m not a ruffian.” The little boy hopped to his feet, rubbing at his grimy cheek. Smudges of dirt dotted his forehead, and his coat was askew.
