“Nak... no. No, no.” Blushing from the roots of her hair to the middle of her décolletage, Mara stumbled back to her chair and slid bonelessly into it. “I wouldn’t... that is... I don’t want that. I hate that.”
Kitty’s lips twisted in a humorless smile. “You hate fucking and it’s the only thing that William and I are any good at. Maybe we should just switch husbands. I’mjesting,” she said when Mara’s mouth dropped open. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want him. Although there’s no denying that Ambrose has a certain dark appeal. You know, I must admit that I was caught off guard when you announced your engagement. He never struck me as the sort of man that you’d ever be interested in.”
“He wasn’t.” On a sigh, Mara let her head slump back. “Until he told me I was pretty.”
And I was foolish enough to believe him.
Chapter Two
April 1811
Glendale Manor, London, England
“Mara, put downyour book,” Kitty hissed in her ear. “The Duke of Southwick is coming this way!”
Blinking, Mara used a silk hair ribbon to save her spot before deftly sliding the book under her seat. A ballroom wasn’t exactly an ideal place to read, but what else was she supposed to do for five long hours while her sister’s dance card filled and hers remained conspicuously empty? Well, empty that is except for Lord Stapleton, but as he smelled vaguely of mincemeat jam and had a habit of trouncing on her instep whenever they attempted to execute a right-hand turn, she didn’t count him.
“Who is coming this way?” she asked, craning her neck around her sister’s skirt. The pink gown had been boxy and downright frumpy when she’d worn it for her debut last year, with clumps of lace in all the wrong places and bell sleeves the size of overgrown eggplants. But Kitty, skilled with a needle and blessed with an eye for design, had changed the dress into an elegant, flowing work of art that barely resembled the garment that had earned Mara more than a few snickers.
Kitty had offered to work her magic on Mara’s gown for tonight’s festivities, a daisy-yellow dress that had once belonged to their Aunt Sarah (notable for both her hideous taste in fashion and love of crumpets), but Mara had politely declined. Yes, the dress was clearly too big and yes, the color was blinding. But the cotton fabric was cool and the waistline was comfortable, and what did it matter what she looked like as no one was going to bother looking at her?
When her sister was around, Mara wasn’t merely in her shadow. She was the dust under the rug beneath the sofa in her shadow. And she didn’t mind. Not really. For shewantedKitty to find a match. She wanted her sister to escape, to leave their hellish house and never have to come back. But the only way to do that was to marry. The only way to marry was to find a husband. The only way to find a husband was to attend a ball.
And yes, she needed a husband, too.
She needed to escape, too.
But she’d made a promise to their mother that she would protect Kitty... and it was a promise she meant to keep. Even if it came at the expense of her own life.
Another reason she favored the ugly yellow dress?
It covered her bruises.
“The Duke of Southwick.” Bouncing excitedly on her heels, Kitty abruptly whipped around. “How is my face? Do I look all right?” She peeled back her lips. “Anything in my teeth?”
“You look beautiful,” Mara responded truthfully.
In the soft light of the chandeliers swinging above their heads, her sister’s countenance was glowing. Her blue eyes sparkled, her blonde hair shone, and even her teeth were squeaky clean. By comparison, Mara felt pale and withdrawn, like a rose that had been denied the sunlight.
Her hair hung lank around her shoulders, her mouth was unconsciously pinched shut for fear of revealing her crooked incisor, and there were dark smudges under her eyes from spending the night awake and watching their bedroom door.
“Aduke, Mara.” Kitty sucked in a breath. “This could changeeverything. Oh, he’s getting closer! Don’tstareat him. Goodness!”
But it was too late. She was already staring.
How could she not?
The Duke of Southwick was, in a single word, menacing. And if she had two?Terrifyingly handsome.
He was tall, with broad shoulders and a flat abdomen and muscular thighs encased in black trousers. As a matter of fact, his entire ensemble was black, from his coat to his boots to his cravat. Even hishairwas black and swept cleanly off his temple, giving her a clear, unhindered view of his face.
Slashing brows, a straight nose, firm lips, a strong jaw.
And his eyes...
Mara swallowed nervously.
His eyes were pale blue glass, sharp and ruthlessly assessing as they performed a cursory examination of her sister before settling squarely on her.
