Chapter 2

Two

L ady Rosella Prescott dressed carefully for dinner, instructing her maid to prepare one of her best gowns. It was a soft blue chiffon with white lace trim around the bodice, a color that matched her eyes and, she thought, enhanced them quite well. Truthfully, what she hoped was that a certain marquess would find it enticing—or better yet, irresistible. Perhaps it was a foolish endeavor, but she had to start somewhere.

She slid on her matching slippers and took one final look at her reflection. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon, with a few loose tendrils framing her neck and cascading softly down her back. A simple diamond and sapphire pendant adorned her neck, the only jewelry she had chosen. Briefly, she had considered donning a diadem but dismissed the idea immediately. It was, after all, only a family dinner, and anything more would have been ostentatious.

A smile curved her lips as confidence blossomed. This time, she would succeed. He would not know what to make of this version of her. They had agreed to a truce, and she fully intended to use it to her advantage. Tonight, she would be charming, tantalizing, and utterly irresistible.

All her hopes and dreams revolved around one man. The Marquess of Kistleton held her heart, and tonight, she had to make him see her in a new light. If this attempt failed, she would have no choice but to set aside her feelings and accept that nothing would ever come of them. She loved him—foolish, blind fool that he was—but perhaps she was the greater fool for believing she might win his heart.

Taking a deep breath, she left the sanctuary of her bedchamber. Not that there was any real danger awaiting her, but in solitude, there was no fear of rejection or the daunting task of seduction. “This will work,” she told herself, repeating it like a mantra as she descended the staircase and entered the sitting room.

Noelle was already there, along with their mothers, the Duchess of Clare and the Duchess of Kissinger. But where were the men?

“I’m glad I do not appear to be late,” Rosella said, frowning slightly.

“Not at all, dear,” her mother, the Duchess of Clare, assured her. “Your father was delayed by some unexpected business, and the Duke of Kissinger is assisting him. They refused to share the details, but I expect they will join us soon.”

“My brother and yours are in the billiards room,” Noelle added. “They thought it an opportune time to play, given the delay.”

Rosella frowned again. “How long will dinner be delayed?” She had taken such care with her appearance, only to find the one person she wanted to see missing. How could she impress the Marquess of Kistleton if he wasn’t there to admire her?

“Dinner will be served in half an hour,” the Duchess of Kissinger replied. “Whether the gentlemen join us or not.”

“Our patience only extends so far,” the Duchess of Clare agreed. “As they well know.”

Noelle grinned. “Lucian and Asher won’t be long. My husband knows I’ll fetch him, and I am not above making a scene.”

“Your brother knows that as well,” Noelle’s mother added with a resigned sigh. “Thankfully, I no longer need to fret over your scandalous behavior now that you are married.”

Noelle rolled her eyes. “I was not that terrible.”

“Not at all,” her mother replied with a wry smile. “You were far worse.”

Rosella laughed as Noelle’s mouth fell open in shock. “Mother!”

“I speak the truth, and you know it,” the Duchess of Kissinger said with a shrug. “I have never made excuses for you.”

Noelle sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”

Rosella took a seat beside Noelle on the settee, her mind already formulating a plan. She needed to interact with Lucian, and the billiards room offered the perfect opportunity. If only she could plant the idea in Noelle’s mind…

“This is lovely,” Rosella said. “The Christmastide gathering is always one of my favorite times of the year.”

“As it is mine,” Noelle agreed. “And I am so pleased Asher and I have the honor of hosting this year.”

“Now Rosella must marry,” her mother said, smiling pointedly. “Then the next Christmastide gathering can be hers to host.”

Rosella sighed. “I have no prospects, Mother. You must temper your expectations. It’s unlikely I’ll fall in love and marry before the next Christmastide.”

“A mother may hope,” the Duchess of Clare replied, undeterred. “And I do believe it will happen sooner than you think.”

Rosella narrowed her gaze. Her mother’s cryptic predictions often had an uncanny way of coming true. “What have you seen?”

“I cannot say,” her mother answered with maddening serenity. “I do not wish to spook you.”

“As if that cryptic remark hasn’t already done so,” Rosella muttered. “Keep your secrets then, Mother. It matters not. I know no gentleman is interested in me at present.”

Her mother smiled knowingly. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Her tone was petulant, though inwardly, she dared to hope. Could her mother be right? Could the man she longed to marry already be under the same roof? Turning to Noelle, she asked, “Do you think Asher and your brother have finished their billiards game?”

Noelle frowned thoughtfully. “I cannot say for certain.” Then, as if the idea had struck her, she tapped her chin. “Perhaps we should go and encourage them to finish.”

It was almost too easy. “If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll gladly accompany you.”

“Excellent,” Noelle said, standing. She turned to their mothers. “We’ll return shortly.”

As they walked toward the billiards room, Noelle leaned closer. “I thought you might need some space. Your mother means well, but I could tell her words unsettled you.”

“Only a little,” Rosella admitted, grateful for Noelle’s understanding. “Thank you.”

“Of course. There is nothing I would not do for you,” Noelle replied with a smile. “Besides, the billiards room will be far more entertaining than your mother’s matchmaking scheme.”

Rosella could not agree more. “Absolutely,” she said with a smile. “You had a brilliant idea suggesting we go to the billiards room.”

As they approached the billiards room, Rosella’s thoughts raced. This might be her chance to interact with Lucian, to show him a side of her he had never truly seen. Plans were fickle things, prone to unraveling when least expected. Perhaps it was time to place her faith in fate.

Lucian stared down at the billiards table, contemplating his next shot. In truth, he cared little whether he won or lost. The game had simply been a way to pass the time until dinner. He and Asher could have remained in the sitting room with the ladies, but they had decided instead to spend the time in each other’s company. Since Asher had married his sister, opportunities for such camaraderie had become scarce, as was proper. Lucian certainly would not have wanted his friend to neglect his wife—especially when that wife was his sister.

Still, their friendship had taken a different turn since Asher and Noelle wed nearly a year ago. The change had been profound, not just in their relationship but also within Lucian himself. It had forced him to confront desires he had not previously acknowledged. Marriage, once a distant concept, had started to feel less abstract—particularly with the emotions Rosella stirred in him.

But pursuing Rosella presented a daunting challenge. Although they had called a truce, there was no indication that her feelings for him extended beyond irritation. What if she did not share even a hint of his romantic inclinations? Worse, what if she laughed at the idea of them together? He would never know if he did not attempt to discover how she felt. Which in itself was terrifying. They would have to face each other every year at least during Christmastide. That would be onerous and humiliating.

“The shot is not that difficult,” Asher drawled, pulling Lucian from his musings. “Why are you staring at the table as if it is a puzzle that is unsolvable?”

Lucian shook off his thoughts and met his friend’s gaze. “The shot is not what preoccupies me.” He grinned. “I have other concerns weighing on my mind.”

Asher nodded knowingly. “If you wish to discuss them, I am here to listen.”

“No, it is all right. I will sort through them on my own.” Lucian leaned down, aligned his cue, and took the shot. The ball rolled smoothly across the table and sank neatly into the pocket. “It will resolve itself in time.”

“The offer remains,” Asher said with a grin, then wiggled his eyebrows. “Unless, of course, these concerns involve a lady. Do you have someone on your mind?”

Lucian turned his head slowly, fixing Asher with a glare. “Of course not. I have far more pressing matters to consider. It will work out when it is meant to.”

Asher held up his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Noted. Though you should consider settling down. It might do you some good to focus on more than estate business.”

Lucian knew Asher was right, which was precisely why he had been seriously contemplating courting Rosella. Yet, discussing such feelings with her brother—his closest friend—was a delicate matter he wanted to delay for as long as possible. “I will consider your advice,” he said evenly. He did wish to have Rosella in his life. He just did not know how to go forward and implement that desire

“Good.” Asher grinned. “I would like to see you happy.”

“You don’t think I am happy?” Lucian raised a brow. “I hadn’t realized I was so melancholic.”

“Not melancholic,” Asher corrected with a roll of his eyes. “But not entirely blissful either. It’s a different kind of happiness I wish for you, and I hope you find it.”

“Perhaps I will, in time,” Lucian conceded. The game had lost its appeal, and he saw little point in continuing. “Shall we call this a draw?”

Asher surveyed the table, then nodded. “It seems fair. We should rejoin the ladies. Perhaps our fathers have concluded whatever mysterious business delayed them.”

Lucian replaced his cue on the rack and turned back to Asher. “Do you have any idea what they’re up to?”

“Not the faintest,” Asher replied. “But you know how they are. It’s bound to be some grand scheme that will surprise us.”

“Likely something Christmastide-related,” Lucian agreed. “But I cannot begin to guess what.”

“Let’s join the ladies, then.”

“But what if we wish to join you?” Noelle’s voice rang out as she strolled into the room, Rosella at her side.

Lucian’s gaze immediately landed on Rosella, and his heart quickened. She was a vision in blue, her gown perfectly complementing her luminous eyes. If they were alone, he might have told her how utterly beautiful she looked—and perhaps stolen a kiss. The mere thought of holding her in his arms, tasting her lips, sent a desperate longing coursing through him. If she had any inkling of how much he desired her, it would likely shock her.

“Hello, darling,” Asher greeted his wife. “Are we late? Have the dukes returned?”

“Not at all,” Noelle replied. “But I missed you. Also, the duchesses are growing restless. We should likely begin the meal.”

Asher nodded. “We were just finishing. I’ll let the staff know to serve, and then we can escort everyone to the dining room.”

“Perfect,” Noelle said, turning her gaze to Lucian. “You look distracted. Is something bothering you? Or do you object to beginning dinner without the dukes?”

Lucian had been so focused on Rosella that he barely registered Noelle’s question. Dinner, the dukes—it all seemed inconsequential compared to the woman standing before him. “Nothing is bothering me, dear sister,” he replied smoothly, though inwardly he seethed at Rosella’s apparent indifference. Had she even glanced in his direction? How was he supposed to win her heart if she barely noticed him? “Let’s eat. I’m certain our mothers are impatiently awaiting us.”

The group left the game room and headed toward the sitting room. Lucian watched Rosella from the corner of his eye, his mind racing. He needed a plan—something to shift her feelings toward him. For years, all he had seemed to inspire in her was irritation, but now he wanted something far more profound. He wanted her love, and he was determined to find a way to earn it. If only he knew where to begin…