Prologue
Munro House, late September 1814
There she wasagain. Miss Jillian Kinsey. Best friend to the bride.
Lewis had first noticed her at the wedding, where she had been throwing rose petals from a basket with the gleeful energy of a lass much younger than she was, golden hair streaming down her back despite being a grown woman who should have been wearing it up.
Should have. How often he had heard that expression applied to him. It wasn’t that he was a disappointment to his parents. Heavens, no. It was good to have a “spare to the heir.” He had followed the rules: he was usefully occupied as a barrister, did not get in his brother’s way, and generally toed the line.
But, at thirty, heshould havebeen married by now.Should havemade more friends among theton.Should havebeen, well, less himself.
His sister had not cared for the rules. She had taken all the risks necessary to free herself from their parents’ expectations. In a way, she had been Lewis’s salvation. She had shown him it was possible to be true to yourself and survive.
And that was, quite simply, why Lewis had remained unmarried. If he was going to spend his life with someone, hewanted a wife with whom it was safe to express odd opinions. To avoid the trappings of high society. To break the odd rule when it made no sense. Such a lady was rare, indeed.
Yet here he was, at the wedding celebration of his dear friend, Viscount Howell, staring unabashedly at just such a woman.
All right, so she was a groundskeeper’s daughter, Howell had mentioned. His mother would have been crimson with rage if she’d known he was evenponderinga woman of such low station. But if Miss Kinsey was good enough to be a loyal friend and companion to the new viscountess, who was a baron’s second son to judge her worth?
Besides, if he was going to annoy his parents, he should at least meet the young lady properly.
Lewis drifted in Miss Kinsey’s direction. He was obliged to stop and make conversation every few steps, yet he was making steady progress. Her laughter tinkled up even from a distance, her face radiant with unbridled joy. Lewis was finding it hard to focus on whatever was being said to him, his gaze constantly drawn to the golden-haired nymph. The nearer he drew to her, the stronger he felt her pull.
He had reached a space mere yards from her when the bridegroom found him.
“It’s been a while since this house has seen so many people,” the viscount said with what Lewis could only guess was regret that it had not remained so.
“You’ve never been one for crowds,” Lewis agreed, frustrated that he was unable to see Miss Kinsey over the viscount’s tall shoulders. “But I warrant marrying Lady Howell has been worth the temporary discomfort.” He tilted his head to try and catch sight of Miss Kinsey in case she moved off in a different direction.
“A hundred times over,” said his friend, stepping to the side. “Is that better? Is the view improved?”
Lewis felt his cheeks grow warm. “Er… yes, thank you.”
Lord Howell followed his line of sight and nodded. “Miss Kinsey is quite lovely and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, disarmingly natural in her manner. Would you like to be introduced?”
Lewis cast a wary glance at the viscount. “It’s not like you to play matchmaker.”
“Good grief!” cried Howell. “That wasnotmy intention. I merely thought, since you and Miss Kinsey are close friends of ours, you will find yourselves frequently in each other’s company and an introduction would be called for. I donotthereby suggest any sort of match between you! It is hardly a suitable one for either of you.”
“Hmm,” answered Lewis vaguely, for his heart was already well on its way to being smitten.
“I should warn you,” the viscount added, “she is a bit… much. She does not appear to have a filter of any sort.”
Good, thought Lewis, but he said nothing. Lord Howell liked everything to have its place. It was part of the role he had been raised to play. But Lewis was only a second son. A nobody, as far as upper society was concerned. A bit of plain talk would not bother him. In fact, it would make a refreshing change from the formality of the law courts and his parents’ stern upbringing.
He followed the viscount as he cleared the path to Miss Kinsey, who stood next to the bride, encircled by a gathering of slightly stunned listeners. Lewis grinned to himself. Clearly, they had not been warned by the viscount.
The small crowd parted as the bridegroom approached, the murmur among them subsiding. But Miss Kinsey’s eyes shone, and her smile remained broad and welcoming as she addressed her host.
“Lord Howell! Ellena has been wanting to introduce me to your friends. Alas, as she has met none of them before today, ithas been an impossible task. How genteel they all are, though! Such excellent manners, letting me gabble away about my home and family and the exciting journey we have had all the way from Ermenbrough just to attend your wedding. And what a splendid ceremony it was! With the most beautiful bride Munro has ever seen. And a husband who, I can clearly see, appreciates her. Good for you! That will be your best quality, of which Ellena tells me you have many.”
The new Lady Howell slipped her arm through that of her friend’s and said in a half-whisper, “Catch your breath, Jilly dear. His lordship’s friends are not accustomed to such abundant speech all at once.”
As it was, the viscount’s friends had used the distraction of his arrival to melt away into the nearest pockets of more sedate conversation, where the pace and content was better suited to their taste. All of his friends, that is, bar one.
Lewis waited patiently for the promised introduction.
“Bradford,” Lord Howell said quickly, before she could set off again with her tireless chatter, “may I introduce Miss Jillian Kinsey of Ermenbrough? Miss Kinsey, this is Mr. Lewis Bradford of Oakwoods.”
