Chapter 1

One

“I ’m assuming there’s a very good reason you’ve invited us to your house, in disguise, at such an odd hour of the day?”

Samantha Canford certainly knows how to make an entrance, Lady Cherie Norton thought to herself, as her friend strode into her bedroom, hands on her hips, and asked the question she’d no doubt been longing to ever since she’d received Cherie’s message.

Lady Minerva Berrymoore, Cherie’s closest and oldest friend in the world, followed just behind Samantha. She also looked curious as she peered at Cherie, who was sitting on her bed, too paralyzed to move.

“I’m assuming there is at least a dead body here,” Samantha said, her gaze flitting to the dark corners of the room. “Surely you wouldn’t send such a frantic note if we weren’t going to have to help you hide a body.”

“Don’t sound so excited, Samantha,” Minerva chided. “Or else Cherie will think you actually wish there was a dead body.”

“Please, both of you lower your voices,” Cherie said, finally unsticking her throat. No one can hear us.

“Ahh, so she speaks.” Samantha folded her arms and looked Cherie up and down. “Although you also look rather pale. Did you miss luncheon?”

Only then did Samantha finally notice the stricken look on Cherie’s face. The amused glint in her eyes faded, and she crossed to the bed quickly and took Cherie’s hand.

“What’s happened, Cherie?” she murmured. “I’m sorry to jest if it’s something dreadful.”

Minerva also walked over to the bed, where she hovered behind Samantha, looking worried. “Tell us what’s happened, Cherie, and we can fix it,” she said, in her matter-of-fact way.

Cherie licked her lips and nodded. It was something dreadful. But she barely knew how to say the words. She was still in shock. The only thing she’d been able to do after learning the news was pen two quick notes and send them with her lady’s maid to the homes of her two best friends. It couldn’t have been easy for them to sneak out of their homes in the early evening when calling hours were over.

This was the time of day when ladies might be expected to work on their needlework or the pianoforte, not jump in carriages and ride with haste to their friend’s townhouse. But somehow, Samantha and Minerva had managed to do just that, and it left Cherie with an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards them both.

“Oh gosh, something dreadful hasn’t happened, has it?” Samantha suddenly became very pale, and she gripped Cherie’s hand harder. “Is it Cassandra? Have she and the duke been hurt?”

“No! Goodness, no! Nothing like that! Our friend and my brother are still on their honeymoon!”

“Then what is it?” Minerva prodded. “What has happened?”

At last, Cherie found the words. “My cousin has sold me in marriage.”

Minerva and Samantha both started.

“What are you talking about?!” Samantha cried, her voice suddenly so loud that it seemed to shake the walls of the room. “He can’t sell you in marriage! He isn’t your legal guardian!”

“What do you mean by ‘sell’?” Minerva inquired at the same time. “And to whom?”

“To the Earl of Rochford,” Cherie whispered.

“But he is almost five and forty!” Samantha exclaimed, tossing her head. “It cannot be!”

Minerva, of course, took a more practical approach. “Cherie, I think you need to tell us what happened. The whole story.”

Cherie took a deep breath. “I barely know myself what happened. It all happened so suddenly.”

“Perhaps it would help us figure out what to do if we could get all the facts straight,” said Minerva encouragingly.

“Well, as you know, my brother is away, and wanted to have a carefree stay in Italy,” she began. “So, while he is gone, he left our cousin Charles in charge of the estate.”

“Yes, your foolish cousin,” Samantha said with a snort. “How His Grace could think that was a good idea is anybody’s guess.”

“Yes,” Cherie said distractedly. “Anyway, my cousin came to me today and announced to me that he had betrothed me to the Earl of Rochford and that I had to go pick a dress because he was coming over later in the evening to marry me!.”

“Oh, the audacity! Men think that a special license solves everything! You sweet dear!” Samantha rubbed her back.

“I was taken aback, of course, and told him he had no right to arrange a betrothal for me without my brother’s permission. He got angry and said that my brother gave him full power over his property, including me, and that he can do whatever he wants.”

“Oh, women are property now?” Samantha fumed, while Minerva touched her hand dizzily to her head.

“It seems unlikely your brother would do that,” she said faintly. “He would never allow someone else to have that kind of control over you.”

“That’s what I said, and what has been so difficult to piece together,” Cherie said, “but Charles said he has the legal documents to prove it. And that by the time my brother comes back, it will be too late to do anything. I will already be married and on my honeymoon in India.”

“Did he say why he betrothed you to an older man you don’t even know?” Minerva asked.

Cherie closed her eyes for an instant as the horror of the memory washed over her. “At first, he wouldn’t say. But as the quarrel continued, he lost his composure and let slip that he owes the earl a great deal of money. I believe that he made some sort of arrangement to marry me to Rochford in order to have his debts forgiven.”

Even in her distress, Cherie was gratified by just how horrified her friends looked.

“What an awful man!” Samantha seethed. “To trade your life away to cover his debts? He deserves to be locked up!”

“This is shocking beyond words,” Minerva said gravely. “The duke will put a stop to it when he returns.”

“But when will that be?” Cherie cried. The shock was starting to wear off, and with it, the numbness. Now, the panic was beginning to radiate throughout every inch of her, and she stood, suddenly restless. She strode to the end of the bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment. She looked pale and frightened, but not beaten.

Promise me, Cherie, that you will live a different life from mine! Promise you will live your life for you and will marry only for love. Promise me!

I promise, Mama!

She turned back around to face her friends, her mind made up.

“I cannot stay here in this house, awaiting my brother’s return. Even if I were to refuse this and expose Charles to the entirety of the ton, he has too much power over me while I am in his custody.”

“What are you suggesting?” Minerva said, her eyes wide.

Samantha, of course, understood her at once.

“Are you suggesting an escape?!” she gasped. “That you flee the house to get somewhere to safety?”

Cherie looked between her two friends, seeing the same wide eyes and parted lips on each face. Then, very slowly, she nodded.

Minerva clapped a hand over her mouth, while Samantha smiled wickedly.

“I never thought I would attempt something so scandalous,” Cherie admitted. “But I must get out of the house before my cousin forces me to marry. I know that once my brother returns, he’ll put a stop to this. But until then, I cannot risk Charles trying something underhanded to force me down the aisle. If I remove myself from his protection… well, he won’t be able to coerce me into something if he doesn’t know where I am.”

“We will help you,” Samantha said at once. She looked as if she was born ready to help, and Cherie couldn’t help but smile in gratitude.

“Oh, Samantha,” she murmured, “you really aren’t afraid of anything, are you?”

“Of course I am,” Samantha said, grinning at her. “I’m afraid of my friends being unhappy. What I’m not afraid of is courting scandal by helping sneak said friend out of her home.”

Cherie laughed. It felt so good to laugh. She’d been afraid, after her fight with Charles, that she would never again.

“We will of course help you,” Minerva assured her, taking her hand. “Anything that you need. And don’t worry about the scandal. It’s your cousin who should be blackballed from Society for this. Women might not have many rights, but we do have the right to consent to our marriages. If people knew he was trying to force you… well, they would never speak to him again!”

“Let us not rely on that, though,” Samantha said at once. “Women must make our own ways in the world. And we must help ourselves. Society cannot be trusted to do so.”

For a moment, the three women shared a meaningful look. Each of them knew exactly how little Society cared for women, especially ladies such as them.

Cherie, Samantha, and Minerva were all considered wallflowers by the ton, so they had banded together and made a pact to help find one another husbands. So far, they been successful in marrying off Cassandra—to Cherie’s brother, no less. Now she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that her friends would help her escape marriage to the Earl of Rochford—and keep her word to her mother. Her promise that she made while she lay on her deathbed.

“What is the plan, then?” Samantha asked. She eyed Cherie. “You do have one, don’t you?”

“A vague one.” Cherie pulled herself up straight. “First, I’m going to need a disguise. And then I need to get out of London.”

The journey through the house was so frightening that Cherie felt sick with nausea the entire time. She and Minerva had acquired a dress from the housekeeper’s closet. Samantha had penned a message to her friend Lady Helen Carter, her acquaintance who would be willing to take Cherie in at her home Carleton Cottage in Margate while Cherie and Minerva acquired a maid’s dress from the sympathetic housekeeper. Now Cherie followed Minerva at a respectful distance, her eyes downcast, just like a lady’s maid, as Minerva and Samantha attempted to keep up the conversation between them like everything was normal. But Cherie could hear the nervousness in their words.

When she snuck a discreet glance, she felt her whole body go numb.

“My ladies!” her cousin said when he saw Samantha and Minerva. Both ladies stiffened, and Cherie dropped her head even further. “I did not realize my cousin had visitors.”

“We were just leaving,” Samantha said, undisguised coldness in her voice.

Don’t antagonize him , Cherie thought wildly. Don’t draw attention to yourselves.

Cherie took a few steps back, imitating the way a maid might halt a bit further behind. Though in her case she melted into the shadowy alcove that framed one of her ancestor’s portraits.

“Ahh, yes, so was I,” Charles said. “I just forgot something, now I’m off back to my club.”

He smiled, but the look was strained and insincere.

“Oh, your club, is it?” Samantha began. “It isn’t a h?—”

“Have a good day, sir,” Minerva said, stomping on Samantha’s foot under her dress. Cherie only saw because her gaze was already downcast.

At least Minerva has more sense than passion!

“Ah, yes, have a good day yourselves, my ladies,” Cherie heard her cousin bumble. Then Minerva and Samantha were crossing the hall. Cherie followed behind them. She held her breath as she passed by her cousin. She felt dizzy and sick. There is no way this is going to work!

But her cousin didn’t so much as glance at her, and Cherie felt surges of both gratitude and anger at how easy it was to overlook women—especially poor ones.

Then the front door of the house was opening, and they were outside, hurrying down the steps, and then Minerva’s footman was opening her carriage door, until finally, Cherie was safely inside.

Minerva slammed the door shut behind her and leaned back in her seat, breathing deeply.

“That was close,” Cherie whispered, as the carriage began to trundle off.

“Now we just hope everything goes according to plan,” Minerva said.

And the first half of that did , miraculously, go according to plan.

The second half, Cherie reflected hours later as she stood nervously in front of a dilapidated inn, hadn’t gone nearly so well.