Chapter Eleven

"Y ou did what?" Blessing circled Chance, contemplating how to make him pay for handing her over to a man as if she were bartered goods. This overstepping of his bounds warranted something much worse than frogs in his bed. "How could you? How dare you?"

Her brother lifted both hands and backed away in clear surrender. "Hethersby is a good and kind man—as well as a duke with a modest approach to life, even though he is plump in the pockets. He would be a perfect husband for you, Essie."

"I think he could be a good friend," she said, "but not a husband. Especially not for me." She threw up her hands. "Does the silly man even know which one I am?"

"Eventually, he would know you for who you are."

"Eventually? Have you anything between your ears to stop the wind from whistling through your head? That must be what happened to any sense you ever hoped to have. A stout breeze blew it away."

"There is no need to be insulting."

"Yes indeed, there is." Blessing paced around the chairs and small tables cluttering the library, trying to curb the desire to rip off her slipper and beat him over the head with it. She hadn't done that since she was ten and three, when Chance had stolen her journal and tossed it into the pond to keep anyone else from discovering how infatuated he was with the newest kitchen maid. She turned and shook a finger at him. "You will speak with him at once and retract whatever you told him."

Chance stared at her for entirely too long with a grim look that annoyed her to no end.

"Well, say something, damn you!"

"Essie! Such language does not befit a lady."

"It befits my mood," she said, striding toward him. "Whatever silly thing you are thinking—out with it now."

"If you truly think yourself enamored of Lord Knightwood, smitten with him enough to cast away any and all other suitors, why do you insist on referring to your arrangement as courting rather than an engagement?" He folded his arms across his chest, emitting an air of smug superiority that angered her even more.

"Because, unlike you, dear brother, I prefer to tread carefully rather than jump in over my head and flounder until I drown." She stormed closer and poked him in the shoulder. "If you had been more circumspect, rather than greedy to have one of us married off, you would not find yourself in such a quandary now."

"Find myself in a quandary? Do you not mean find us in a quandary?"

"I am not the one who agreed to marry the Duke of Hethersby." She poked him again, harder this time. "This is your problem. Not mine."

Chance rubbed his shoulder. "Stop poking—that is hardly ladylike behavior either. Have you forgotten everything Mama taught you?"

"Mama is the one who advised me to tread carefully when it came to choosing a husband." Blessing turned away, unwilling for Chance to see the frustrated tears at risk of overflowing. She headed for the door and refused to look back at him. "Repair your error, brother. Lord Knightwood is taking me for a carriage ride to admire the stars this evening. Tutie and Seri are coming along." Before stepping out into the hall, she relented and turned back to aim a cutting glare at him. "Undo what you have done. You knew it was wrong when you did it. Did you not hear Papa's voice in your head telling you to stop?"

Chance stared at the floor. "I did, Essie—but I ignored it."

"Next time, listen to Papa and make him proud." She exited the library and slammed the door behind her before he could reply. Partway down the hall, she paused and bowed her head, a twinge of regret filling her as she remembered one of her last conversations with Mama. Your brother has a good heart. Help him do his best. He will need all of you to help him once Papa and I are gone. It was as if Mama had known Papa would soon follow her to the grave.

"Help must sometimes come with a tough sternness that Chance cannot ignore," she told the memory as she continued down the hall and climbed the stairs.

"Who are you talking to?" Serendipity watched her from atop the staircase, peering over the banister with Fortuity at her side. She wrinkled her nose and cringed. "Did it not go well? You didn't hurt him, did you? He is our only brother."

"And the duke," Fortuity reminded her with a sympathetic tip of her head.

Blessing rolled her eyes as she flounced past them and charged into their suite of rooms. "I am sure I did him very little damage when I advised him he would do well to remember all that Papa taught him."

"So, he attempted to thwart your courting of Lord Knightwood?" Fortuity asked.

Blessing flopped onto the fainting couch in the sitting room shared by all the sisters, since it was situated between the bedroom suites. "The fool promised me to the Duke of Hethersby!"

"What?" Fortuity nudged her over to sit beside her. "He did not."

"He did," Serendipity said. "I overheard the conversation."

"And you did nothing to stop him?" Blessing glared at her older sister. "How could you, Seri? How could you not intercede on my behalf? I trusted you."

"Because in all honesty, I feel the duke is a better match for you." Serendipity perched on the other side of the couch, her expression one of worry and regret. "Lord Knightwood has such a terrible reputation." She squeezed Blessing's arm. "I fear he will hurt you, Essie."

"That is something I must discover for myself." Admittedly, Blessing shared Serendipity's fear, but how would she know if she didn't give Thorne a chance? "I twinge for him," she admitted with a heartfelt sigh.

"You what?" Serendipity frowned at her.

Blessing patted her chest. "I have…stirrings, and I most definitely like him much more than any other man I have ever known."

"You already love him," Fortuity proclaimed with a knowing nod. "Whenever I write my characters, they always feel twingy like that right before they realize they cannot live without whomever they are twinging for."

" Twingy is not a word," Serendipity said.

"It is in my stories." Fortuity stood and held out a hand to Blessing. "Come—we shall write a letter to the Duke of Hethersby. He seemed the kind sort. I am sure he will understand." She grinned. "At least, he will whenever he figures out which one of us you are."

"Do not mock the man," Serendipity said. "He is kind and gentle."

"Then you marry him," Blessing said.

"I will not marry until everyone else has." Serendipity lifted her chin as if proud of her persona as some type of marriage martyr. "Mama entrusted me with the care of all of you."

Blessing was tempted to tell her she had done a poor job of keeping that promise but held her tongue. There was no need to be cruel.

Well…maybe just a little cruelty was needed. "In future, you would do well to remember that Mama and Papa wanted us to marry for love—not for status or because a man was kind. "

Serendipity glared at her. "I was trying to protect you. And it never hurts to have more than one gentleman interested in you." Her sly grin became a balm that eased the sting of her treachery. "After all, you want Lord Knightwood to appreciate you, before you decide to make things permanent. I think it very wise that you insisted on calling it courting rather than an official engagement. But you know what the ton will decide once they see you together more than once."

"I have no time to worry about the ton ." Blessing eyed them both. "My family and the ways they choose to help me take quite enough of my time and attention, thank you very much."

"What did I do?" Fortuity asked in a hurt tone.

"Nothing. Yet." Blessing glared at Serendipity. "Do we have an understanding? Will you act in my favor should the need arise again?"

"I will do my best to follow your wishes," Serendipity said. "But that does not mean I will agree to anything I fear might hurt you." She held out her hand like they used to do when they were children trying to resolve a spat. "Truce?"

Blessing knew Serendipity meant well and had never been able to stay angry with her for long. She took her sister's hand. "Truce—for now."

*

"Did you tell Chance you decided to send a letter to the duke after all?" Fortuity asked.

"I did not." Blessing swept aside the sheer panel of delicate lace hanging between the heavy draperies of the parlor's front window. The lamplighters had already done their job, lending a warm, safe glow to the ever-increasing darkness descending upon the homes of the aristocracy of St. James's Street. Lord Knightwood—no, Thorne , as he wished her to call him—would arrive soon for their nighttime outing to the park.

A shiver of excitement raced through her. This would be their first official courting. The thought made her smile, considering it hadn't been so long ago that she had sworn she would never interrupt her study of the stars with something as trivial as finding a husband.

"It was my understanding that you expected Chance to speak with Hethersby. What exactly did you put in your letter?" Serendipity's hesitant tone betrayed her dread of an answer she didn't really wish to hear. "Essie? Are you listening?"

Blessing rolled her eyes before turning from the window to face her sisters. "Do not worry. I merely told His Grace that while I considered his offer a very nice compliment, I wished to marry for love—not convenience or a social transaction to gain a title."

"He seemed very kind," Fortuity said, then held up a hand and turned aside as if knowing what Blessing was about to say. "And no, I do not wish to marry him either."

"I am sure His Grace will find a suitable wife." Blessing turned back to the window for another peek. She wished Thorne would hurry and arrive. "Hopefully, the future Duchess of Hethersby will be a kind lady who will give him many children and years of happiness."

"Do come away from the window, Essie." Serendipity tugged on her sleeve. "He will see you watching for him, and that simply will not do. Lord Knightwood needs to prove himself, and he will not do so if he believes you are longing for his company." She brushed the velvet of the dark blue spencer Blessing had donned to set off her white gown embroidered with a sprinkling of flowers in the same rich shade. "You must keep this jacket, sister. The color suits you so much better than it suits me."

Blessing laughed. "Our coloring is the same, except your eyes are vibrant like priceless sapphires whereas mine are pale like blue glass. How could this jacket suit me better than you?"

She knew the answer. Serendipity was attempting to strengthen the fragile truce between them. Blessing's dear sister felt guilty about not stepping in to keep Chance from giving her away as if she were the pick of the litter.

Serendipity smiled, then bowed her head. "You read me too easily." She lifted her gaze, her fair brows knotted. "I only want you safe and happy. Please know that is what always controls my choices."

Blessing hugged her. "Stop fretting. Remember what Mama always said about worry wrinkles?"

As Serendipity laughed and smoothed a finger between her brows, Walters stepped into the parlor and intoned, "Lord Knightwood."

Resisting the urge to press a hand to her chest to calm her suddenly pounding heart, Blessing managed a serene smile and a curtsy as Thorne joined them. "Just in time," she told him.

He bowed to her sisters, then turned to her and quirked a brow. "Just in time?" he repeated. His dark eyes danced with amusement, making it difficult for her not to drown in them and completely forget to speak.

She cast a glance at her siblings. "We tend to get a bit fractious with each other when waiting. That is one thing none of us does well."

He moved toward her with a devilish smile and offered his arm. "Then, by all means, let us be on our way. The stars await." After a subtle tip of his head for Serendipity and Fortuity to take the lead, he followed with Blessing on his arm to where Walters waited with their cloaks to shield them from the cool, damp air of the early spring evening. Then they continued outside to his impressive landau. The glossy black finish of the carriage perfectly matched the shining, dark coats of the four horses harnessed to it. The driver beside the vehicle hurried to open its door as they approached.

Thorne assisted Blessing's sisters into the conveyance first, then turned to her with a sultry look that made her so warm she wished she had carried her cloak rather than worn it.

"And so," he said in a low tone meant only for her, "our official courting begins." He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her gloved fingers. "My treasure," he whispered.

"Are you quite certain?" she couldn't resist asking. After all, it was well known by everyone that the man enjoyed his freedom—as much as she enjoyed hers.

He tilted his jaw to a stern angle, but his teasing tone belied his feigned displeasure. "I am not certain about the official courting, my lady. If you will recall, I wanted an engagement , but you refused an announcement of our banns or a special license, and I can only assume you would have also refused a rousing trip to Gretna Green."

"You make it quite difficult to draw a breath when you speak like that, my lord." She swallowed hard before allowing him to steady her as she stepped up into the carriage. She settled in the seat and tried to compose herself as he took his place beside her.

"Good—I intend to keep you breathless," he whispered before casting a smile at Fortuity and Serendipity, who sat across from them. "Shall we, ladies?"

Much to Blessing's surprise, her sisters remained quiet, responding to Thorne's inquiry with nothing more than a gracious dip of their chins. She narrowed her eyes at them, letting them know she was watching them just as closely as they watched her. Sly minxes. She loved them dearly but knew this trick of theirs. It was the age-old give him enough rope to hang himself ploy. In other words, if they remained silent, they hoped Thorne would nervously fill the void with an accidental confession and convict himself of whatever nefarious ploy they thought he was attempting.

"To the park, Thompson," Thorne called out as he settled more comfortably back into the seat.

The fine landau shifted into motion with hardly a lurch, and the horses' hooves treated them to a pleasantly rhythmic clippity-clopping as they rolled down the street. As Thorne subtly pressed the hard, muscular length of his leg against Blessing, another shiver rippled through her—one that had nothing to do with the crisp breeze failing to cool her burning cheeks.

"Is the night too chilly for stargazing?" he asked her with genuine concern.

"No, my lord." She shifted and pulled her cloak closer around her while primly placing what little space she could between them. This was not a game of which she had any experience, but she needed to learn to play it well—and needed to learn its intricacies with haste. Her future and her heart depended on it. She must not allow him to know that with every meeting, the effect he had on her was more powerful. At least, she must not allow him to know it—yet. "It is the perfect night for a ride in the park to enjoy the beauty of the stars."

"It is indeed a night for beauty." He stared at her, looking into her soul, willing her to understand the true meaning behind his words.

She found herself trapped in his gaze and not minding if she remained there forever.

"How is your mother, Lord Knightwood?" Serendipity asked, raising her voice to break the moment's lovely spell.

The slightest hint of a frown creased his brow as he pulled his focus from Blessing and looked to her sister. "She is well, my lady. Thank you for asking. Forgive me, but I did not realize you were an acquaintance of my mother."

Blessing glared hard at her sister, silently warning her that if she didn't want a bed full of frogs, she had better play nice.

Serendipity retreated with a sheepish twitch of her shoulder. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting her, but a dear friend of mine, the daughter of Lady Kettering, told me how your mother so valiantly championed another of my friends when a few among the ton took it upon themselves to try to ruin the lady in question when she was quite innocent of any wrongdoing or impropriety."

Blessing breathed easier as she noted the tension melt out of Thorne, from the hardened line of his jaw to his wonderfully broad shoulders. It was more than a little obvious that he was quite protective of his mother. And no wonder, considering what he had shared about his father.

"At our next opportunity, I would be delighted to introduce you to my mother, Lady Serendipity. I know she would enjoy meeting you." He cast a meaningful look at Blessing. "After all, if my intentions are well met, our families will soon be joined by a blissful union."

"We shall see," Blessing managed to say with a coyness that she hoped disguised her pounding heart. "For now, we are merely courting. Remember?"

" Seriously courting," he stressed with a pointed look. "Officially."

"Seriously courting," she repeated, suddenly finding herself somewhat breathless yet again.

"Essie, look!" Fortuity pointed upward. "A prosperous sign for certain. I must use this in a story."

Blessing looked up just in time to see a series of shooting stars streaming across the dark velvet of the sky, their silvery tails sparkling like magical fairy dust.

"Make a wish, my lord," she said while smiling up at the celestial show.

"You already know my wish," he said softly. "What is yours, my treasure?"

She pulled her gaze away from the stars and allowed herself to float into his eyes again. "To find the love and happiness my parents knew," she whispered ever so quietly, fearing if she said the words aloud, somehow, the darkness of the world would destroy any chance she had for seeing the wish fulfilled.

He didn't speak, nor did he look away. Instead, he took both her hands and hugged them to his chest while leaning forward as if intent on sealing their wishes with a kiss.

Serendipity cleared her throat. Loudly.

Blessing shot a glare at her. "Really?"

"We are the chaperones, dear sister, and this fine coach makes quite the stage for all around us to see your performance."

"Your sister is correct." Thorne released her with a heavy sigh and resettled himself in the seat. "Thank you, Lady Serendipity." He glanced around as if suddenly realizing they were anything but alone. "There do indeed appear to be quite a few enjoying this balmy evening in the park." He reached over and thumped the side of the coach. "Thompson—take us to the highest and clearest point so we might enjoy more of the stars. You know this area better than most. I trust your judgment."

"Will do, my lord." The man headed the carriage to the left with such a deft touch that the passengers barely felt the turn.

"Hyde Park is fairly level. I fear you have given your man an unfair challenge," Blessing said.

"Thompson will find us the perfect spot." Thorne glanced upward. "Our show of shooting stars may have ended, but we still have that gorgeous moon."

"You were enamored of the moon in my observatory." She couldn't resist teasing him. "Just because it is easiest to see without the aid of a telescope merely means it is closer—not larger."

"Well, I like it." He gave her a dashing grin. "And, after all, the moon is for lovers."

"Ahem." Serendipity cleared her throat again, and Fortuity snorted.

Blessing scowled at her eldest sister. "Seri—if you keep clearing your throat to censor us, you will surely be hoarse by the end of the evening."

"Not if you behave," Serendipity retorted, then idly glanced to the right before turning in that direction and openly staring at an approaching phaeton. "Did you invite others to join our enjoyment of the stars, Lord Knightwood?"

Thorne scowled at the vehicle headed their way. "I did not, my lady." He inched forward until he was perched on the edge of the amply padded seat. "Thompson—stop and stay at the ready."

"Yes, my lord."

The carriage slowed to a smooth stop, then the coachman bent and recovered something from the box beneath his seat. Blessing couldn't determine what it was but assumed it was a firearm.

Thorne disembarked and stood before the carriage door as though defending a castle.

As the light, high-perched phaeton with its pair of dapple grays drew close enough to reveal the driver in the soft lighting provided by the moon and what few street lamps dotted the park, Blessing gasped. The Duke of Hethersby was the lone occupant of the carriage, and he did not seem pleased. She cringed, knowing she had mentioned her evening plans in her letter. If anything terrible happened, it would be her fault for telling the duke where they would be.

"Lord Knightwood," the duke called out with a curt nod.

"Hethersby," Thorne replied as he resettled his stance.

"You have my betrothed in your carriage, sir." The duke shifted while resettling his reins, then turned his attention to Blessing.

She braced herself but did not correct the man about his poor choice of words. There was no need for this foolishness. Her letter to him had been quite clear. They were not betrothed.

"Lady Blessing—are you aware of Lord Knightwood's reputation?"

"I would ask you to answer a question of mine before I respond to that, Your Grace." She wet her lips, praying for eloquence. At the duke's slight nod, she continued. "Did you receive my letter this afternoon?" Of course he had. How else would he have found them? But she needed him to admit it and open the necessary discussion properly.

His gaze dropped, and his shoulders slumped, revealing he had indeed read her letter. "Your brother, the Duke of Broadmere, accepted my request for your hand in marriage. We are betrothed, my lady."

"I am of age, Your Grace, and quite capable of confirming the legalities of this situation with our family's solicitor if forced to do so. However, it is my hope that will not be necessary." She softened her tone, trying to be gentle yet remain firm. "I fear you have been misled. My brother had no right promising me to you." Blessing didn't wish to upset the man, but it wasn't as if anything had been announced. He could easily continue his search for a wife without anyone being the wiser. "As I said in my letter, you are a kind man and your offer of marriage is an honor—but I will not marry a man I do not love."

Hethersby lifted his head and gave her a forlorn look that nipped at her conscience. "You might come to love me if you'd but give me a chance."

"You can have your pick of the ton , Your Grace," she said. "And no one but us knows of your offer. Your pride and reputation are intact."

He frowned and shifted in his seat again, frustration shouting from him. "I do not like the marriage hunt and would have it over and done with." He jerked a shoulder as if trying to rid himself of the entire mess. "I had hoped offering for you would end my misery."

Something her mother had once told her came to mind as if Mama whispered in her ear. "You are trying too hard, Your Grace. Sometimes it is best to let go and let things happen as they are meant to happen. When you search too hard for something you cannot find, if you stop and turn your thoughts to something else, what you seek often reveals itself. You discover that what you sought was right in front of you all along—waiting for you to realize it."

He stared at her, but it felt as though he was looking within himself rather than at her. "There was a lady once," he said so quietly that she almost didn't hear him. With a sad shake of his head, he stared down at his hands. "Father did not approve of her, though."

"Your father is dead, Your Grace." Blessing shot a silencing glare at her sisters' shocked gasps before turning back to him. "You are the duke now and can do anything you want."

He looked up and locked eyes with her. "The ton would not approve of her either."

"You are a duke, Your Grace. Hang the ton. They need you more than you need them."

He smiled. "I like you, Lady Blessing."

"I like you as well, Your Grace, and would be proud to call you friend—but not husband." She hoped she had made that quite clear.

"I consider myself fortunate to have a friend like you, Lady Blessing." He gave her a gracious nod, then turned to Thorne. "Do not do ill by her, Knightwood, for if you do, I shall stand alongside her family in seeing that you regret the day you were born."

"I will not do ill by her, Your Grace." Thorne offered a polite bow but remained in front of the carriage, his determination to guard his lady unmistakable.

Without another word, the duke turned his rig and drove away.

"I must put this in a book," Fortuity said. "That was so…"

"Tutie?" Blessing arched a brow at her dreamy-eyed sister. "Must you think aloud?"

"Sorry."

"You are a wonder, my treasure." Thorne reached into the carriage and took Blessing's hand. "And I consider myself blessed above all men that you chose me rather than the duke."

Rendered speechless, Blessing pulled in a deep breath to slow the rapid pounding of her heart. Surely to goodness, this falling-in-love business was a most difficult thing to manage.

An insistent series of meows from the hedgerow bordering the carriage path interrupted the moment.

Blessing blinked and strained to hear the sound again. She turned to her sisters. "Did you hear kitties?"

Both of them cringed, then Fortuity shook her head. "It will not work, Essie. Grace's hounds would torment them, and you know it."

"We must find them." Blessing hopped up and struggled to untangle the folds of her cloak and gown so she might manage a respectable dismount.

"Let me help you before you tumble to the ground." Rather than offer his hand, Thorne took hold of her by the waist and swept her down to stand in front of him. He held her close for longer than necessary, the burning hunger in his eyes threatening to weaken her knees.

"My treasure," he rasped while tenderly cupping her cheek. "If I had known cats would bring you into my arms, I would have brought my mother's with me."

"I adore kitties but could never have one because of Grace's puppies." It sounded so childish to admit to such a thing. Especially at a moment like this. She ducked her head. "Sorry to be so silly and petty."

He laughed and tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his. "My mother adores cats as well. You are neither silly nor petty."

"That is debatable," Serendipity called to them from the carriage. "Do stay where we can see the two of you. Please?" She turned to Fortuity. "Go with them."

"I will not." Instead, Fortuity drew her paper and pencil out of her reticule and angled herself to catch as much light as possible. "I have notes to make lest I forget. Essie will be fine."

Blessing smiled up at Thorne. "Hurry. Before they change their minds."