“When the mar­quess was on his deathbed, he admit­ted every­thing to wit­ness­es and claimed me as his heir,” Julian explained.

“No won­der every­thing seems so strange to you, my lord,” Lady Ari­adne said. “But why do you want to par­take in the Season?”

“For the same rea­son as you, my lady. I wish to find a wife. The man who sired me had three of them, all of them bar­ren. I do not take my respon­si­bil­i­ties light­ly. I know I must pro­vide an heir, so I will do so as soon as possible.”

“Will you tell your wife what you have shared with me?”

“I don’t know,” he said hon­est­ly. “If I do, I doubt any lady in Polite Soci­ety would have me.”

“Yet you told me,” she said soft­ly. She reached and took his hand, squeez­ing it. “Thank you for shar­ing your sto­ry with me, my lord. Thank you for trust­ing me.”

Lady Ari­adne released it, and Julian felt bereft.

“I will nev­er tell a soul,” she promised him. “You can count on my dis­cre­tion. And do not under­es­ti­mate your­self. You are a very hand­some man. You speak and car­ry your­self well. You hold a lofty title, and I assume you have a decent amount of wealth. You will have no trou­ble find­ing a bride on the Mar­riage Mart.”

Julian looked at the young woman before him. She had poise. Charm. Spir­it. And she was quite beau­ti­ful, espe­cial­ly with her cop­per hair.

He wasn’t ready to speak open­ly to her yet, but he had already made up his mind.

Lady Ari­adne was the one for him. No oth­er would do as his marchioness.

“Mama is not so bad,” Lucy said. “She just has firm ideas of how things should be.”

“I think she was con­sid­er­ing me as a future son-in-law at tea yes­ter­day,” Lord Hunts­ber­ry said bluntly.

Heat rose in her cheeks. “I apol­o­gize, my lord. I fear Mama will be assess­ing every unwed man, see­ing if he might serve as a poten­tial hus­band for me. Have no fear, though. I under­stand you are not inter­est­ed in mar­riage at this time.”

He cocked his head, study­ing her. “Why do you say that, Lady Lucy?”

She felt her face go hot. “Con told me you are not often in the com­pa­ny of oth­ers. That you have nev­er called upon a young lady.”

The mar­quess nod­ded his head slow­ly. “Lord Dyer is cor­rect. I have nev­er cho­sen to woo anoth­er.” He paused. “I do wor­ry about you, though, my lady.”

“Wor­ry? About me?” she squeaked.

“You are a breath of fresh air,” he declared. “And very, very inno­cent. There are hor­ri­ble gos­sips in the ton who would tear a love­ly crea­ture like you into shreds. And rake­hells who might take advan­tage of your extreme innocence.”

She bit her lip. “Might you be one of those rake­hells, Lord Huntsberry?”

“No,” he quick­ly assured her. “But you nev­er want to be alone with one. That is a hard and fast rule.”

Lucy looked around. “But we are alone togeth­er now,” she point­ed out.

“And we shouldn’t be. Because some­thing like this might happen.”

Before she could ask what, Lord Huntsberry’s arms came about her.

And his mouth pressed soft­ly against hers.

*Excerpt com­ing in 2025!

Eden need­ed fresh air and slipped out the door. She strolled the length of the courtyard.

Then the air about her changed, feel­ing charged, and she caught the scent of cit­rus. Turn­ing, she saw Val stand­ing in front of her.

“Go away, Your Grace.”

“What hap­pened to speak­ing ami­ably, Eden?”

“Rude­ness should be treat­ed with rude­ness,” she said crisply in her best gov­erness voice. “You were extreme­ly rude to Lord Arden. I told you he was leav­ing me and planned to dance with another.”

He took a step clos­er to her, their bod­ies almost touch­ing. Her back was to the wall of the build­ing, giv­ing her no avenue of escape.

“Are you upset that I danced with Lord Arden, I believe he felt sor­ry for me stand­ing there all alone.” She wet her lips. “I thought it extreme­ly kind of him to ask me to part­ner with him. He’s a wid­ow­er, you know.”

“I do know,” he said huski­ly. “And Arden is not known for danc­ing much at assem­blies. He needs an heir, Eden.”

His words hung in the air, heat radi­at­ing from him.

She swal­lowed ner­vous­ly. “That has noth­ing to do with me.” The words had sound­ed right in her head but came out weak and ineffectual.

Sud­den­ly, Val placed his palms against the build­ing, caging her. “You will not become Lady Arden,” he com­mand­ed, as if he owned her.

Her heart was beat­ing wild­ly. “I have no desire … to become Lady Arden.”

“Good,” he said soft­ly, his head dipping.

Then his lips were press­ing against hers. Firm lips—and yet so soft in their touch.

Eden had not expect­ed this kiss. It was an unfore­seen kiss and took her total­ly by surprise.

*Excerpt com­ing in 2025!

*Excerpt com­ing in 2026!

*Excerpt com­ing in 2026!

*Excerpt com­ing in 2026!

*Excerpt com­ing in 2026!

*Excerpt com­ing in 2026!