Chapter 1

"Ido not know why we bother to allow you to attend these events at all," Ezra Bolton, the Earl of Druidstone, remarked haughtily. He folded his arms across his chest as the carriage rocked back and forth over uneven ground. "It is like taking a nag to market, hoping for a thoroughbred's price."

His daughter, Leah, had to laugh. "That is a new one. A nag." She flashed a sour grin at him. "I shall add it to the ever-lengthening list, entitled: Ezra Bolton's Compendium of Insults for Your Disappointment of a Daughter. I am hoping to publish by the year's end. It ought to be ten volumes at least, by my reckoning."

"Do not be obtuse," her father retorted. "I am merely stating the truth. Darling, do you not agree?" He glanced at his wife, Sarah, for support.

Sarah sighed wearily. "I see your reasoning, my darling, but it does no harm for Leah to attend these gatherings. Indeed, I am ever hopeful."

"You should not be," Leah pointed out, though not unkindly. It was not her mother's fault she could not speak her mind to her husband. He had a bad habit of sulking if he was not agreed with in at least some capacity.

Sarah gave her daughter a pointed look. "You never know, my darling. Olivia never thought she would marry, yet she is as happy as one can be with that… oh goodness, what was his name again? I can never remember."

"The Marquess of Bridfield," Ezra answered bitterly before Leah could. "You might not have been a marchioness, Leah, but you could have been a viscountess. You could still be a… baroness at least, if you would cease with your stubbornness."

Leah shrugged. "Only the very desperate would have me, Father, and I do not intend to be anyone's last resort. I shall be my own first choice and last resort, thank you very much."

"And whose fault is that?" her father muttered, refolding his arms to show just how annoyed he was.

Leah mustered a smile. "It is mine, of course, and you shall never allow me to forget it."

The truth did not matter to her father, nor did she see the use in explaining it for the millionth time, for even she did not know the full details of what had gone wrong that fateful day, three years prior.

"You do not even care, do you?" Her father's cheeks flushed a livid shade of red. "You care not a jot about the disgrace and humiliation you have brought upon this family!"

Leah settled back against the squabs. "Apparently not, though you never ask me if I care. You do not care if I care."

She had lost her desire to fight her father long ago though that did not stop him from trying to begin their quarrels afresh. She suspected there was something in the carriage air, for his accusations and snide remarks always sparked whenever the family was alone together in the carriage and especially on lengthy journeys, just to make them even more uncomfortable for everyone.

"You have ruined our prospects, Leah," his father ranted on. "It is not as if we have a son or a second daughter who might claw back our reputation for us! You were our sole hope, and you simply will not bear responsibility for what you did, nor will you make amends by marrying anyone—and I do mean anyone—who would have you! I really could accept a baron. I could do it, but you… I blame this Spinsters' Club of yours. They have put notions in your head. They caused you to upset Jonathan. Darling, why do we allow her to associate with these… these… wastrels?"

Sarah discreetly took Leah's hand, hidden beneath layers of skirts and petticoats. "I see your meaning, dearest, but they are not wastrels; they are her friends. Indeed, I daresay, they might be a good influence, now that Olivia is married. It shall not be long before the rest of them marry, and then our dear Leah will desire it, too."

Considering her mother was subtly defending her, Leah thought better of reminding her mother for a second time that it was pointless to hope for marriage.

She is aware,Leah knew. She knows it is hopeless, but she cannot say so in front of Father.

"Well, they had better be an encouraging influence," her father snapped, "or this shall be the end of any clandestine meetings and unseemly gatherings at society events. They are always wandering off, up to no good, hiding where they cannot be found."

Leah could not resist. "Only so we do not have to have our toes crushed by ungainly gentlemen of a certain age who have either lost their first wives or have never been rich enough or charming enough to persuade a lady to marry them." She gave her mother's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Then, they make one speculation that makes them very wealthy, and they suddenly believe they are gifts from the heavens, attractive to all and sundry! Even ladies half their age."

"I ought to stop this carriage and make you walk!" Ezra retorted. "You are too… wayward, Leah. I do not know why you have become this way; you were always such a sweet girl, dedicated to your manners and your propriety. I swear to you, it is those wretched friends of hers!"

Leah drew a breath. "Friends who were overjoyed for me when I became engaged, even those who were devoutly against the institution of marriage? Friends who helped me into my gown, put flowers in my hair, and sang joyful songs with me on the morning of my wedding? Friends who wished me utter happiness? Friends who sat and painted the future with me, discussing when they would come to visit me at the Chesterwood Estate and what a delight it would be to summer there with me?"

That silenced Ezra. Even Sarah seemed impressed by her daughter's victory, however hollow.

"Yes, well, I suppose I should not blame them, for there is only one person responsible," Ezra mumbled.

Yes, there is. My former betrothed, not me. Jonathan, not me, Leah wanted to shoot back yet again until it finally pierced her father's skull and sank into his stubborn brain, but one warning look from her mother held her quiet. There was no point in going in circles.

"Ah, I think I hear music!" Sarah said cheerily, patting her daughter's hand as if to say, thank you for keeping the peace. After all, she was the one who had to contend with Ezra after a conflict, not Leah.

Leah stuck her head out of the carriage window, spying lights in the near distance. "We are not far now!"

And she could not wait, for her friends would be there already; the only people she wanted to spend the evening with.

* * *

"You look rather red-cheeked," said Matilda Elkins, the steadfast, unofficial leader of the Spinsters' Club: a nickname that had begun as a mean-spirited insult from equally mean-spirited ladies which the members of the Spinsters' Club had decided to adopt with pride. "Is it fever, anger, passion, amusement, or a mixture of all?"

Leah had not long arrived, finding her friends immediately in the refreshment room which tended to be their meeting place if they were at an unfamiliar residence. "You are forgetting one other possibility—the simplest, in truth."

"Someone has complimented you?" Anna Dennis asked, the youngest of the infamous, yet intimate, club of five. Indeed, despite her recent marriage, the five women had all decided that Olivia would never be cast out from the Spinsters' Club. It was a Sisters' Club, first and foremost.

Leah chuckled. "No, I am hot. I swear, the carriage has hidden braziers beneath the squabs, toasting me like a piece of bread upon a grate."

"Hot?" Matilda furrowed her brow. "Autumn is upon us, dear Leah. How can you be remotely hot? I have at least six layers beneath my skirts, and I am still as frozen as the Serpentine in December."

Leah smiled. "Then, you ought to spend five minutes in my family's carriage." She paused. "I find that arguments have a way of heating a small, suffocating space until it is almost unbearable."

"Not again?" Matilda groaned. "Will he never relent?"

"I do not expect so," Leah replied. "I shall forever be the disappointment that crushed his plans of dominating the mining businesses of England and Scotland."

Matilda snorted. "What were they hoping to mine again?"

"How should I know?" Leah shrugged. "Something shiny, no doubt."

Anna took hold of Leah's hand. "I am sorry you can never enjoy a peaceful outing. If I but had the courage, I would tell your father myself that being jilted is rarely the lady's fault. It certainly was not yours."

"Thank you, sweet Anna. If it came from you, I am certain he would be convinced," Leah said, resting her head against her friend's, smiling at the very thought of Anna standing up to anyone. Anna was not known for her bravery or authority, being the gentlest and most softhearted of the quintet. "But where are the other two? Have they not yet arrived?"

Matilda poured some punch into a pewter cup and passed it to Leah. "Olivia sent word that she misses us terribly, but that she and her beloved have extended their honeymoon. Appalling of them, I know." She tutted playfully. "If I am not mistaken, and I so rarely am, I do believe they are planning to hide away at their new residence until spring comes again; they are just too cowardly to say so."

"No!" Leah gasped. "But they will miss all of our London japes!"

Anna nodded, sipping from her own cup of punch. "I am devastated, too, but I suppose we should have expected it. She is married now. We knew nothing would stay quite the same." A shy smile crept onto her dainty lips. "Perhaps, one day, I shall find a husband that I cannot be dragged away from, that I shall hide away through long winters with, warm and safe and beloved."

"I shall keep wearing my six layers, thank you," Matilda said, casting a tender smile at Anna. It was well known that Anna was not exactly unmarried by choice but rather by circumstance—namely, that she was too shy and quiet to attract the attention of any suitable gentlemen, despite being exceedingly pretty.

"I shall invest in finely woven blankets," Leah agreed. "Or I shall just have to argue more often with my father, heating up our residence with our incendiary words. But what of Phoebe? Will she be joining us?"

Anna shook her head. "The girls have her pulling her hair out." The "girls" being Phoebe's younger sisters. "She was supposed to ride with me in my carriage but sent a note this morning to say she could not come. I believe they are all unwell. A vicious cold of some sort."

"Oh goodness." Leah clasped a hand to her chest. "Should we sneak away? Should we take one of the carriages and go to help her, instead of enduring what is bound to be a very dull gathering?"

As London held its breath to begin its season properly, a few early balls and soirees popped up around the periphery of the Capital, but most of the ton were still recovering from the summer entertainment, and the rest were just biding their time until the London events began with a vengeance. As such, the earlier gatherings tended to be more sedate, dreary affairs with lots of yawning guests and not much in the way of prospects, even if Leah were searching for such a thing.

"We could," Matilda said, her eyes brightening.

Anna nodded with a sudden eagerness. "Yes, I think that would be a splendid notion. We ought to leave at once. My chaperone has wandered off, but I can find her if you two would like to venture to my carriage and await me there?"

"You think we should escape to Phoebe's residence?" Leah narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "You,who would not a break a rule, even if you had to step upon one to save your life?"

Matilda seemed concerned, too. "Are you quite well, dear Anna? You have not caught this fever that Phoebe and her sisters are afflicted with, have you?"

"Can I not, just once, choose to be… bold?" Anna spluttered.

Leah tilted her head to one side. "Not when you cannot even say "bold" without looking petrified. What is the matter, Anna? Have you seen someone? Is it that awful Sir Whatshisname who hounded you last year? I thought he had finally understood that his advances were not welcome after Matilda set his tailcoat alight."

"An accident," Matilda interjected, feigning outrage. "He happened to walk by the candle I was holding, for I was very much enjoying the craftsmanship of the silver candlestick. If the flame touched his tailcoat, it was not my fault, and it was only a small blaze, anyway, easily put out with a cupful of punch. Had it not been for my swift thinking and my particular cup of punch, he might have been very uncomfortable indeed. But I shall swear innocence of all of it until I am gray and old."

Leah laughed. "And then will you admit it?"

"Oh, I will have forgotten by then," Matilda said, winking. "But what is the meaning of this, Anna dearest? This is very unlike you."

Anna folded her arms across her chest. "It is unlike me to want to aid my friend when she is unwell? That is not a very kind thing to say."

"Even your argument is unlike you," Leah said gently. "You have a golden heart, Anna, and would do anything to help your friends, but you would at least hesitate first if it meant breaking rules. There was no hesitation in you. Come now, has someone upset you? Does punch need to be "accidentally" thrown upon someone?"

Anna crossed her arms tighter, hugging herself. "I… did not want to mention it, as I did not believe it, but I have just seen something that makes me think it might be true."

"Anna, dearest, you are speaking in riddles," Leah remarked, her stomach uneasy.

The poor, shy creature drew in a breath, staring down at the floor. "Upon entering the manor, I heard some ladies gossiping that the Viscount would be here tonight. The Viscountess, too."

Anna did not need to name them fully, for Leah knew precisely who she meant. Clenching her free hand into a fist, Leah downed the contents of her punch glass, her heart beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. For three years, she had avoided the wretched fellow with moderate success, bumping into him and his wife very rarely. But she had never encountered him at a gathering so small where ignoring him would be nigh-on impossible.

"Perhaps, it is mere gossip," Leah suggested, refusing to show her anger and panic. She refilled her cup, using the potent punch to hide her true feelings.

Anna chewed her lower lip and shook her head slowly. "No, dear Leah, for I think I have just seen the Viscountess pass by the door to this room."

"Well… I shall not let it ruin my evening," Leah said, a note too cheerfully. "So what if they are here? Why should they not be here? It is no concern of mine. Jonathan is nothing to me, now. Goodness, it is not as if I loved the fellow! Do you not remember how depressed I was on the morning of my wedding? I was grateful he did not appear at the church. Indeed, once the humiliation subsided, I was glad he did not marry me. You know all of this, so take those worried looks off your faces at once!"

Her voice sounded shrill; she could hear and feel her throat tightening with the memory of the worst possible embarrassment. Yet, her words were not entirely untrue. Having only just turned one-and-twenty when the match was arranged, she had been too young to know what love was. She had tricked herself into believing she loved Jonathan because he was destined to be her husband, but in hindsight, he had merely been the man her father had chosen for her. Now, it was the fact that Jonathan had wounded her pride and embarrassed her so completely that she could not abide.

"It is your choice, Leah," Matilda said, chinning toward the door. "Should we stay, or should we sneak away?"

Leah sipped her punch and stared longingly at the door. Whatever her decision, she needed to make up her mind quickly before old ghosts walked into the refreshment room and haunted her afresh, stirring the gossip mill into a frenzy that would, undoubtedly, trickle down into the scandal sheets.

I cannot be ridiculed again,she knew, making her choice.