Page 1 of A Game of Hearts

Chapter One

Miss Emma Everton smoothed her pale blue silk gown and tried not to fidget as she followed the butler into the grand dining room of Pelham Hall. The Duke of Pelhampton’s annual Valentine’s house party was, by all accounts, the most anticipated event of the winter, and her first glimpse of the room showed her why. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow-hued light over gleaming silver and pristine white linen, while perfect table arrangements of hothouse grown spring flowers scented the air.

A cluster of fresh snowdrops and delicate purple crocuses graced the arrangement nearest her assigned seat, making her smile. Someone had worked hard in the Duke’s celebrated conservatory and greenhouses to grow these harbingers of spring. Soon, the main gardens would show the same growth, as spring warmed the world.

“Miss Everton.”

The butler’s measured tones directed her attention to her assigned seat. She murmured her thanks, allowing a footman to assist with her chair.

“My dear Miss Everton, how delightful to have you with us this year!” The Duchess of Pelhampton beamed at her from across the table. “I was just telling His Grace how much we enjoyed your performance at Lady Millbrook’s musical evening last month.”

“You are too kind, Your Grace.”

Emma felt herself relaxing slightly. Until her aunt caught her eye from three seats away and raised an eyebrow in silent warning. Lady Agatha need not worry – Emma had no intention of being anything less than perfectly proper tonight.

“And how is your dear mother?” the Duchess continued. “I trust that Lady Everton is recovered from her cold?”

“Yes, Your Grace, though she still requires rest. That is why my aunt was kind enough to agree to chaperone me for this house party.”

The sound of the dining room door opening again drew her attention. She glanced up, then caught her breath. The man entering could only be the Marquess of Limnwood – his bearing alone would have marked him as nobility, even without his striking height and aristocratic features. His grey eyes swept the room with military precision, missing nothing. His evening attire, though perfectly correct, had none of the elaborate flourishes that marked so many gentlemen of the ton. Instead, its severe cut emphasised his broad shoulders and commanding presence.

“Ah, Limnwood!” The Duke’s voice boomed out. “Excellent timing. We’re just about to begin.”

To Emma’s dismay, the only remaining seat was beside her. She watched as Lord Limnwood made his way to the chair, his expression stern and remote. Clearly, the tales of his rigid propriety had not been exaggerated.

“Now then,” the Duke rose, lifting his glass. “Welcome, one and all, to our Valentine’s house party! As those who have attended before will know, we have a cherished tradition...” Emma found her attention divided between the Duke’s words and the Marquess beside her, who seemed to be studying her with unveiled disapproval. Had she somehow already managed to offend him? She lifted her chin slightly, meeting his gaze with quiet challenge. “As is our tradition,” the Duke continued, “tomorrow being Saint Valentine’s Day, we shall hold our annual Valentine’s lottery this evening. Each unmarried gentleman will draw a lady’s name, and that lady shall be his partner for all of our planned activities over the next fortnight.”

A ripple of excitement passed through the assembled guests. Emma noticed Lady Anne Fotheringham straightening in her seat, her dark eyes fixed on Lord Limnwood with barely concealed interest. The lady’s perfectly arranged dark curls and elegant burgundy gown spoke of careful preparation - clearly, she had specific aims for this evening.

“Of course,” the Duke’s eyes twinkled, “propriety shall be maintained at all times. But we find that sharing challenges and triumphs often leads to... deeper understanding between our participants.”

“What sort of activities might we expect, Your Grace?”

Lady Anne’s voice carried just the right note of demure inquiry.

“Ah, that would be telling, would it not?” The Duke chuckled. “But I assure you, all will be both entertaining and entirely proper.”

Emma caught her aunt’s slight nod of approval at this assurance. She suppressed a sigh. At twenty, she was perfectly capable of managing her own behaviour without constant supervision. Still, she understood her aunt’s concern - they could ill afford even a hint of scandal, not with her younger sister, Isabelle’s, coming out planned for this next Season.

“The lottery will commence after dinner,” the Duke announced, seating himself again. “For now, let us enjoy this excellent food.”

The first course was served, and Emma found herself searching for something appropriate to say to her stern-faced dining companion. Before she could speak, Lord Limnwood addressed her.

“I understand, Miss Everton, that you are acquainted with my cousin, Lady Harriet Carbrook?”

“Yes, my Lord. We often meet at musical gatherings. She plays the pianoforte beautifully.”

“Indeed.” His tone suggested that he found such gatherings frivolous. “Though I believe that she mentioned some rather... spirited behaviour at the last such event.”

Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“If you refer to the impromptu dancing, my Lord, I assure you that it was entirely proper. Lady Harriet herself suggested it.”

“Proper?” His eyebrow lifted. “To dance without formal introduction of partners?”

“We were all previously acquainted, my Lord,” Emma replied, keeping her voice level, despite her rising irritation. “And Lady Harriet’s mother was present throughout.”

“Nevertheless, such spontaneous displays can lead to... unfortunate consequences.”