Chapter 1
Stepping forward in time to the music, Juliette Matthews held her dance partner’s hand as delicately as she’d been instructed. Overhead, two massive chandeliers cast a brilliant glow across the Hawthorne House ballroom, the light from a thousand candles bouncing off gemstones and beadwork. It was a crush, the first ball of the Season, with footmen balancing trays of champagne and little iced cakes that looked a lot better than they actually tasted.
Ladies paraded about like birds showing off their colorful plumage while gentlemen stood in small groups discussing political issues or whatever it was men liked to talk about. Juliette wasn’t entirely sure, except for the fact that this appeared to be the subject of recent conversations between her brother, Raphe, the Duke of Huntley, and her sister Amelia’s husband, the Duke of Coventry.
Skipping along the line of dancers while executing the complicated steps she’d been taught, Juliette considered how different her life was now from what it had been only one year earlier. Having spent most of her life in the slums of St. Giles, she wondered if she appreciated her good fortune more than her peers. After all, she knew what it was to go hungry, to live in squalor with not enough money for firewood in the winter or to pay a physician’s fee whenever she’d been sick.
“You look enchanting this evening,” the Earl of Yates declared while leading her in a series of tight little circles. His eyes sparkled with deep appreciation.
Juliette liked him and always enjoyed his company, so she smiled at him warmly while saying, “And you look as dashing as usual, my lord.”
His hand closed more firmly around hers and his gaze dropped ever so slightly. Enough to replace the contentment she found in his company with something she instantly recognized as deep discomfort.
“Perhaps we ought to discuss how wonderful we both look while taking a tour of the room,” he said when the music was over and he was leading her away from the dance floor. His smile hadn’t changed, and yet, the brief consideration he’d given her mouth, the tightening of his hand and the way his gaze had seemed to darken, urged Juliette to decline the invitation.
Because as much as she favored his company, she didn’t want more than friendship from him, and she was becoming increasingly worried he might not feel the same way.
“You are always so attentive toward me, which I appreciate,” she began, hoping to let him down easy, “but I would like to visit the ladies’ retiring room. If you don’t mind.”
His smile faded and the glow in his eyes dimmed. “Of course not.” He guided her toward the periphery of the room, stepped back and gave a curt, yet respectful bow. “I thank you for the dance, Lady Juliette.” Glancing over her shoulder, he said with a touch of dry humor, “It looks as though your friend is here to save you.”
Turning, Juliette looked in the direction Yates indicated and found her good friend, Miss Vivien Saunders, coming toward them.
“Did I chase his lordship away?” Vivien asked when she was within speaking distance. Her aunt’s marriage to a baron was what ensured her entry into Society, even though said baron had long since died and his widow was in financial straits. As for Vivien herself, she had few prospects and little hope of marrying a man with a title.
Juliette returned her attention to Yates only to see his retreating back disappearing into the crowd. She sighed as she linked her arm with Vivien’s. Together, they headed toward the door leading out into the hallway where the ladies’ retiring room was located. “I’m afraid I upset him.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Julie. You’re always kind and considerate toward others.”
Juliette scrunched her nose. “I may have made up an excuse not to walk with him after our dance.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Juliette glanced across at her friend. “What on earth does that mean?”
“Well... the man obviously likes you. A lot. And you do seem to like him as well, considering how much you smile and laugh when you are together.”
Juliette thought about that for a second. “Am I supposed to pretend not to like dancing with a gentleman simply to avoid making him think I might be encouraging a courtship?”
Vivien squeezed the right side of her face together as if it required great effort to answer that question. “Pretty much. I think. Although I’m really no expert.”
They entered the retiring room where two other young women were fixing their hair in front of a mirror. “Why can’t a man and a woman be friends without either expecting more?” Juliette whispered to Vivien while one of the other women in the room giggled in response to something her friend had said.
“Perhaps because it’s called themarriagemart,” Vivien suggested, moving to a screened-off seating area and lowering herself to a comfy-looking settee.
Juliette remained standing, too agitated to stay still. She crossed her arms and eyed her friend. “Well, it’s a shame.” She held Vivien’s gaze before throwing up her hands and dropping onto the vacant spot beside her. “Not only did I fabricate an excuse to avoid spending time with a man whom I genuinely like, but now I have to sit in here for a good ten minutes or more so it doesn’t look like I lied to him. Even though he probably knows I did.”
“Don’t worry.” Vivien patted her hand. “It will all work itself out in the end.”
“Will it?” Juliette wasn’t so sure. She’d suffered the hurtful remarks other young ladies had whispered behind her back, endured the most exasperating lessons in etiquette and tried to fit in as best as she could, but there were days when she wondered about the point of it all.
“—I mean, to think we could be so lucky is almost too much,” one of the women on the other side of the screen was saying. “Our debuts looked positively dismal with no chance to snatch up a duke.”
“Until now, that is,” the other woman said in a dreamy voice that made Juliette roll her eyes. She glanced at Vivien and had to force down a laugh.
“Can you believe our good fortune?” the first woman said.
“Well, he’s not a duke yet. Is he?”
