Clare fumed. Her cousin should have married already. She’d had dozens of offers. And it wasn’t as if she weren’t willing. She seemed more than willing, seemed almost more desperate to get settled than Clare was. But one thing or another had brought all the offers to a dead end. Even a tour of Europe this last year had produced no husband. Regina had returned to London last week, still looking.
This year there would also be the competition of Clare’s own sister, Diana. Just short of eighteen, she should have been made to wait another year before being brought out. But their parents thought Diana was old enough to have some fun. She was expressly forbidden, however, to think seriously about any young man. She was too young to marry, but she could enjoy herself all she liked.
Next her parents would be letting fifteen-year-old Amy out of the schoolroom when she was sixteen, Clare thought, increasingly annoyed. She could just see it! Next year, if she still hadn’t found a husband, she would have both Diana and Amy to contend with. Amy was just as striking as Regina, with that dark coloring only a few of the Malorys possessed. Clare would have to find a husband this season if it killed her.
Little did Clare know it, but those were her beautiful cousin’s sentiments as well. Regina Ashton stared at her image in the mirror while her maid, Meg, rolled up her long black hair to hide its length and make it look more fashionable. Regina was not seeing the slightly tilted eyes of a startling cobalt blue, or the slightly pouting full lips, or the slightly too-white skin that set off her dark hair and long soot-black lashes so dramatically. She was seeing men, parades of men, legions of men—French, Swiss, Austrian, Italian, English—and wondering why she still wasn’t married. It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.
Reggie, as she was always called, had had so many men to choose from it was actually embarrassing. There’d been at least a dozen she was sure she could be happy with, two dozen she’d thought she was falling in love with, and so many who just wouldn’t do for one reason or another. And those whom Reggie had felt would do, her uncles felt would not.
Oh, the disadvantages of having four uncles who loved her dearly! She likewise adored them, all four. Jason, now forty-five, had been head of the family since he was only sixteen, responsible for his three brothers and one sister, Reggie’s mother. Jason took his responsibilities seriously—too seriously at times. He was a very serious man.
Edward was his exact opposite, good-humored, jolly, easygoing, indulgent. A year younger than Jason, Edward had married Aunt Charlotte when he was twenty-two, much sooner than Jason married. He had five children, three girls and two boys. Cousin Travis, nineteen, was Reggie’s age and in the middle of his family. They had been playmates all their lives, along with Uncle Jason’s only son.
Reggie’s mother, Melissa, had been far younger than her two older brothers, nearly seven years. But then, two years after her birth, James was born.
James was the wild brother, the one who said to hell with it all and went his own way. He was thirty-five now, and his name was not even supposed to be mentioned anymore. As far as Jason and Edward were concerned, James did not exist. But Reggie still loved him, despite his terrible sins. She missed him sorely and got to see him only secretly. In the past nine years, she’d seen him only six times, the last time more than two years ago.
Anthony, truth to tell, was her favorite uncle. He was also the only one besides Reggie, Amy, and Reggie’s mother who had the dark hair and cobalt eyes of Reggie’s great-grandmother, whispered to have been a gypsy. No one in the family would confirm that scandalous fact, of course. Perhaps he was her favorite because he was so carefree, like Reggie herself.
Anthony, thirty-four and the baby of the family, was more like a brother than an uncle. He was also, quite amusingly, society’s most notorious rake since his brother James had left London. But whereas James could be ruthless, having much of Jason in him, Anthony was gifted with some of Edward’s qualities. He was a dashing blade, an outrageous charmer. He didn’t give a snort for anyone’s opinion of him, but in his own way he did his best to please anyone who mattered to him.
Reggie smiled. For all his mistresses and outlandish friends, for all the scandals that flourished around him, the duels he had fought, the wild wagers he made, Anthony was sometimes the most lovable hypocrite where she was concerned. For one of his rogue friends to even look sideways at her was to receive an invitation into the boxing ring. Even the most lecherous men learned to hide their thoughts when she was visiting her uncle, to settle for harmless banter and nothing more. If Uncle Jason ever learned she had even been in the same room as some of the men she’d met, heads would roll, Tony’s in particular. But Jason never knew, and although Edward suspected, he was not as strict as Jason.
All four uncles treated her more like a daughter than a niece because the four had raised her since her parents’ death when Reggie was only two. They had literally shared her since she turned six. Edward was living in London by then and so, too, were James and Anthony. The three of them had a big row with Jason because he insisted on keeping her in the country. He gave in and allowed her to live six months of each year with Edward, where she was able to see her two younger uncles often.
When she was eleven, Anthony felt he was old enough to demand equal time with her. He was allowed the summer months, which were strictly for play. He was happy to make the sacrifice of turning his bachelor house into a home each year, and that was easily done, because along with Reggie came her maid, her nurse, and her governess. Anthony and Reggie had twice-weekly dinners with Edward and his family. Still, all that domesticity never gave Anthony a longing to marry. He was still a bachelor. And since her coming out, it was no longer proper for her to spend part of her year with him, so she saw him only irregularly.
Ah, well, she thought, soon she would be married. It was not what she particularly wanted. She would so much rather have enjoyed herself for a few more years. But it was what her uncles wanted. They assumed it was her desire to find a suitable husband and begin a family. Wasn’t that what all young girls wanted? They had had a meeting to discuss it, in fact, and no matter how much she declared that she wasn’t ready to leave the bosom of her family, their good intentions won out over her protestations until, finally, she gave up.
From then on she’d done her very best to please them because she loved them all so much. She brought forth suitor after suitor, but one uncle or another found fault with each of them. She continued her search through Europe, but by then she was so wretchedly tired of looking at every man she met with a critical eye. She couldn’t make friends. She couldn’t enjoy herself. Each man had to be carefully dissected and analyzed—was he husband material? Was he the magic one that all of her uncles would approve?
She was beginning to believe there was no such man, and desperately needed a break from this obsessive search. She wanted to see Uncle Tony, the only one who would understand, who would intercede for her with Jason. But Tony had been visiting a friend in the country when she returned to London and hadn’t come back until last evening.
Reggie had gone by twice to see him that very day, but he was out both times, so she had left him a note. Surely he had gotten it by now. Then why hadn’t he come?
Even as she had that thought she heard a carriage pull up in front of the house. She laughed, a merry, musical sound.
“Finally!”
“What?” Meg wanted to know. “I’m not done yet. I’ll have you know it isn’t easy gettin’ this hair of yours tucked away. I still say you should cut it. Save me and you both time.”
“Never mind that, Meg.” Reggie jumped up, causing a few pins to drop to the floor. “Uncle Tony’s here.”
“Here now, where d’you think you’re going like that?” Meg’s tone was outraged.
But Reggie ignored her and rushed out of her room, hearing Meg’s loud “Regina Ashton!” but paying no attention. She ran until she reached the stairs to the main lower hall, and then she became aware of her scanty attire and stopped. She drew back quickly around the corner, determined not to leave until she heard her uncle’s voice. But she didn’t hear it. She heard a woman’s voice instead, and with a hesitant peek around the corner, she was greatly disappointed to see the butler admitting a lady, not Uncle Tony. She recognized the woman as Lady something-or-other, whom Reggie had met in Hyde Park a few days ago. Bother! Where the devil was Tony?
Just then Meg latched onto her arm and dragged her back down the hallway. Meg took liberties, that was a certainty, but no wonder, for she had been with Reggie as long as nurse Tess had, which was forever.
“If I ever saw anything as scandalous as you standin’ there in your unmentionables, I’d like to know!” Meg scolded as she pushed Reggie back down on her stool in front of the small vanity. “We taught you better than that.”
“I thought it was Uncle Tony.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I know, but I must see him tonight. You know why, Meg. He’s the only one who can help me. He’ll write to Uncle Jason and then I’ll be able to relax, finally.”
“And what do you think he can tell the Marquis that will do you any good?”
