Chapter 1

New York City

Several Months Earlier

The carriage slowed and Io gawked at the monstrous Fifth Avenue mansion looming above them. It looked large enough to easily accommodate all the members of the Canoga Community with plenty of room to spare.

"Good Lord," Balthazar, Io's twin, muttered beside her.

Their other three siblings—Apollo, Ares, and Evadne—appeared to be awed into silence.

The moment the carriage drew to a halt a dozen servants erupted from the enormous house and descended on the two luxurious coaches that had collected the five Hale siblings and their scant luggage from the recently completed Grand Central Depot.

The horde of servants put Io in mind of ants—but garbed in expensive livery—working as a single organism, intent on their task.

It was a little unnerving to be the focus of so much domestic service, especially since Io had never had a servant in her life.

A man in a sober black suit followed behind all the others, his clothing declaring his role as butler.

He came to a halt in front of the carriages once the Hales had all scrambled out.

"Good evening, my lords, my ladies. My name is Collins, His Grace's butler."

Io startled at the sound of their ridiculous new titles on his tongue and felt Balthazar jolt beside her. Their younger brothers—yet another set of twins, but identical rather than fraternal—snickered, the sound more than a little scoffing.

Only their little sister Eva—an anglophile through and through—smiled, looking as if she were in heaven.

Collins ignored all their reactions and boomed, "Please, come in. His Grace and Miss Barrymore are expecting you."

Io and Bal looked at each other. Miss Barrymore?

Her twin knew what she was thinking without her needing to speak, and he shrugged. So, Bal didn't know who this person was, either.

Ever since they'd discovered a month ago that they had a recently deceased millionaire grandfather and an older brother they'd not known existed—Zeus Constantine Jonathan Hale—and that Zeus had recently inherited an English dukedom, Balthazar had been the one who'd been in charge of communicating with their new sibling.

Not because Bal wanted to, mind, but because Zeus was a product of paternalistic male-dominated New York society and believed that only men were capable of comprehending subjects like their grandfather's last will and testament.

Or complex subjects of any kind, for that matter.

A woman's role was to be decorative, deferential, and obedient. Seen but not heard, just like all the children they were expected to bear for their lords and masters.

Io felt her temperature rising just thinking about the world she was walking into. She reluctantly thrust away her irritation. She would have months and months—two whole years, in fact—to fume and seethe about the injustices rampant in upper class society.

"This way," Collins said, gesturing to the room beyond the double doors.

They all filed into a foyer that was bigger than the dining hall at Canoga and which could probably accommodate at least a hundred people.

"This is phenomenal," Ares said, his admiring gaze fixed on the marquetry floor as one servant took his hat and another helped him from his coat.

The instant her youngest brother was free of his outdoor garments he dropped to his haunches and stroked the intricate woodwork. "This cannot be new work. It is a masterpiece."

"It came from a castle in Florence," a voice above them said,

Io looked up to find Zeus, whom she had only met once, descending the stairs. Beside her oldest brother was a tall, raven-haired woman who would have been beautiful if not for the appalled expression on her face as she looked at Ares petting the foyer floor.

"Welcome to your new home," Zeus said, sounding as if he meant it. "The train was on time, I see. I trust you had a pleasant trip?"

"Yes, thank you. Your private railcar was most, er, commodious," Bal said when the rest of them stood tongue-tied.

Io suspected that her twin had changed the word from ostentatious at the last moment.

"I am pleased to hear it," Zeus said. "This is my fiancée, Miss Edith Winston Barrymore."

"Miss Barrymore," Bal said bowing. "I am Balthazar, this is my twin sister, Io, my brothers Apollo and Ares, and my youngest sister, Evadne."

Miss Barrymore did not seem to hear Bal's greeting, her disbelieving gaze moving slowly over the rest of them.

Io had noticed the supercilious and even outraged looks they had attracted when they'd disembarked from her brother's private railcar at the train station. Most of the negative attention had been directed at her and Eva, who wore the short skirts and bloomers common among women at Canoga. Io had expected such reactions from strangers.

She did not expect such open censure from his brother's fiancée.

"Why, what quaint clothing," Miss Barrymore murmured as she looked from Io to Eva. "And such interesting hairstyles."

Io sucked in a breath, preparing to give the other woman a quaint piece of her mind.

"The garments we wear are purposely designed for comfort and economy rather than fashion," Bal—ever the peacemaker—said before Io could commence her assault. "As for Io and Eva's short hair, not only do they look fetching, but it does not require the services of a maid or a great deal of time spent in front of a looking glass." He paused and then added, "All of us work, Miss Barrymore."

Io was proud of the way her twin managed to impart censure while still smiling.

It was, however, wasted on Miss Barrymore who merely murmured, "Hmm." And then moved her attention from Bal and Io to the twins.

"Ah," she said, her cool blue gaze sliding from Ares to Apollo and then back. "My, you certainly are… similar."

"Identical, in point of fact," Ares said dryly. "I am Ares." He took Miss Barrymore's limp hand and lowered his lips over it, causing their sister-in-law-to-be to wince.

"I am Apollo," Pol said, a dangerously mild expression on his face. He ignored Miss Barrymore's hand—which she had pulled closer to her body, as if afraid he might touch it like his brother had—and bowed so slightly it could scarcely be called one.

Edith blinked at his dismissive attitude; her expression amusingly perplexed.

"Would you like to have tea? Or do you need to rest and freshen up first?" Zeus asked, apparently unaware of the tension in the cavernous room.

Io didn't need to look at her siblings to know what they wanted. All five of them were normally active people who had sat in a luxurious railcar for the entire day, doing nothing but eating and relaxing.

"I don't think we need any more rest," Bal said when the rest of them merely stared.

"Tea, then. Right this way," Zeus said. He and Miss Barrymore headed back up the stairs.

"I've never seen anything like this," Io hissed in Bal's ear as they followed the other pair. "How many people do you think live here?"

Bal shrugged. "I thought it was only Zeus, but perhaps she lives here, too."

"You forget we are no longer at Canoga, Brother. She does not live here as they are not yet married," Io pointed out.

Bal just grunted, his eyes darting around as he tried to take everything in.

The room their brother led them to was so opulent that it was even more of an assault on the senses than the foyer had been.

The ceiling was monstrously high—complete with lounging cherubs and gods and other mythical creatures—and the walls held massive landscapes that were bigger than a dining room table at Canoga.

Heavy velvet drapes swathed windows that were twice as tall as Io's twin. The gleaming wood floors, or at least what one could see of them, were covered in thick, jewel toned carpets.

Io resisted the urge to check her battered old black ankle boots for dirt or muck.

"Allow me to introduce you to Miss Barclay, who is Miss Barrymore's cousin and companion." Zeus nodded to a woman who was so tiny and drably dressed that Io had not even noticed her in the midst of so much luxury.

"And this is my friend and secretary, Corbin Masterson," Zeus said, gesturing to the side of the room, where a tall, attractive blond man stood surveying them. For some reason, he put Io in mind of a Viking, his broad, powerfully built shoulders slightly incongruous in his exquisitely tailored suit. His hair was the color of ripe wheat and his eyes were a coldly appraising slate gray. For one moment his flat gaze rested on Io. She lifted an eyebrow at his haughty, measuring look.

He blinked slowly and ignored her challenging expression, turned to her siblings, and said, "It is a pleasure to meet all of you." His voice was cool and clipped and he was obviously a man of Zeus's own class, which made it surprising that he worked for her brother as a secretary.

Or perhaps not. After all, what did Io know of such matters? The new world around her could hardly be more different than the rustic, cozy agrarian home she had left behind.

Far behind.

"Please, have a seat," Zeus said, gesturing to the collection of silk covered settees and chairs clustered together.

Everyone sat.

"I noticed there was not much luggage," Zeus said, "Is the rest still to come?"

"No, we brought everything with us," Io said, deciding poor Bal shouldn't have to bear all the burden when it came to communicating.

"But there were only a half dozen bags," Miss Barrymore said, her eyebrows arching high, her tone one of disbelief.

"That is all we are bringing with us," Io replied as politely as she could manage.

Once again, the other woman's eyes flickered over their clothing, lingering on Io and Eva's calf-length skirts. "It is probably for the best that you left most of your…garments behind."

"You misunderstand," Bal said quickly, before Io could speak. "This is everything we own. We do not have a great many personal possessions."

Another silence inserted itself, only broken when the door opened and two servants entered one bearing a tray laden with pastries and cake, the other balancing an enormous tea tray.

Zeus glanced at Io and looked as if he were about to say something.

"Set it right here," Miss Barrymore said to the servants in a cool, confident voice, and then she occupied herself with the business of preparing their tea.

Io had the distinct feeling that her brother had been about to ask her to take charge of the tea ritual.

Zeus asked questions about the trip and the weather, and Bal answered them while the others seemed content to gaze around at the spectacular room.

Io found that her gaze kept being pulled to Mr. Masterson, who sat at some remove from the group, as if to emphasize his position as a menial in her brother's household. Although there was nothing menial about the proud set of his broad shoulders or the arrogant tilt of his chin.

He was too well-bred to show his thoughts, unlike Zeus's fiancée, who clearly loathed them all on sight, but Io couldn't help thinking that his gaze was faintly disbelieving. As if he could not countenance that his regal friend and employer was related to this band of rustic yokels.

"When will we leave for England?" Eva asked, the only one of the five of them who was genuinely pleased to be there, although they had all voted on the matter and agreed to come.

It is an opportunity we should not pass up,Balthazar had insisted when they'd discussed leaving their home for two years and going to England under their oldest brother's tutelage.

Io looked at that older brother now.

Zeus was an extremely handsome, if stern, man. Right now, he was looking at Eva and, shockingly, a slight smile curved his lips, making him look almost human.

But then, Io's little sister tended to have that effect on people—making them smile—whereas Io usually made their hackles rise.

"We will leave in just a little shy of three weeks," Zeus said.

"And what ship are we sailing on?" Eva asked.

"The Petrel. It is not the fastest Transatlantic ship but we will still arrive in Southampton in less than nine days."

"Nine days," Ares repeated, sounding as awed as Io felt. It was hard to imagine going so far a distance—not just physical, but temporal, as well—in such a brief time.

"It is one of your brother's ships," Miss Barrymore said, sounding as proud as if she already owned it. She met Io's gaze. "How do you take your tea?"

"Black, please," Io said.

"Susan," Miss Barrymore barked.

Miss Barclay sprang from her chair, hurried to her cousin, and brought the teacup and saucer to Io.

"Thank you, Miss Barclay," Io said.

The woman looked flustered, as if nobody had ever thanked her before. Judging by the way her cousin barked orders at her, Io could well believe it.

"I thought you were a banker. I didn't know you owned ships," Apollo said.

"My interests are quite varied," Zeus said, his almost gentle tone making the younger man blush.

Io felt bad for her brother; she had believed the same thing—that Zeus was only involved in banking. It was rather humiliating to realize just how little they seemed to know about life outside the boundaries of the Canoga Community.

Indeed, learning more about the world had been the main reason Io had voted along with her twin to go to England.

"Well then," Miss Barrymore said once she'd handed off the last cup of tea. "I don't wish to rush everyone—"

"And yet here she goes," Io muttered so softly that only her twin could hear her.

"—but we have only three weeks until we depart for England and—"

"Are you going with Zeus and the rest of us?" Ares asked.

Their brother's fiancée frowned, clearly not accustomed to interruptions. "His Grace does not use that name. If you address with his Christian name, then you should call him John. As to your question, yes, I am going to England."

"Are we supposed to call you His Grace?" Io ignored the supercilious woman and addressed her question to her brother.

Zeus looked slightly pained. "No, of course not. You are family."

"But you want us to call you John."

"It is the name I have always used," he said, subtly evading her question.

"Why don't you use the name Zeus?" Io persisted.

"John is what my aunt and uncle, who raised me after my mother's death, always called me."

His answer reminded Io that their deceased father had, for reasons unknown to them, abandoned the only child of his first wife and kept his existence a secret from the rest of his children. a fact that made her ashamed of their parent.

Miss Barrymore gave a condescending laugh. "My dear Lady…Io, you must understand where you are now. Not in some backwater, but the most sophisticated city in America—perhaps in the world. His Grace is a well-respected man of business and such a frivolous first name would make your brother a figure of ridicule. John is far more appropriate."

Io was rendered speechless—a rare occasion—and looked at Zeus to see how he took his fiancée's characterization of his name.

But her brother's expression was unreadable as he set his cup back in the saucer and then stepped into the ringing silence. "Edith has been gracious enough to offer her assistance with our transition to England," he began, evidently choosing to ignore the issue of his name. "As the future mistress of Hastings Park and all the other estates that come with the dukedom it seems only sensible that she and her cousin"—he inclined his head slightly toward the tiny, colorless Miss Barclay, who was perched on the edge of her seat and the only one of them without a cup of tea— "will both travel with us to England."

Miss Barrymore gave Zeus an approving look, as if he were a dog that had just adequately performed a trick, and then turned and snapped at her cousin, "Fetch my list, Susan."

Again Io looked at her older brother to see how he viewed such a curt command, but Zeus was busy saying something to his secretary in a low voice and the other man was nodding and jotting something down.

Miss Barclay quickly scurried back to Miss Barrymore, who snatched the paper from her hands without a thank you and then turned her gimlet eye on Io and her siblings, her nose wrinkling slightly—as if she smelled something foul.

Io could not recall ever before having taken such a complete and instant dislike to another person.

"I can't help wondering if that is really proper, Miss Barrymore," Io said, employing a tone that was every bit as crisp and abrasive as the other woman's had been. Beside her, Bal shifted in his chair. Io's twin knew her well. Bal would recognize her tone and know she was girding for battle.

"Is what really proper?" Miss Barrymore demanded.

"You are an unmarried maiden. Should you be cohabitating with our brother? Or will you be living elsewhere?" Please, please, please let it be the latter, Io prayed.

Miss Barrymore's eyes bulged and she opened her mouth, but Zeus beat her to it.

"Edith's reputation is above reproach. And she will have chaperonage in the person of her cousin, Miss Barclay. Admittedly the circumstances are unusual, but we have our reasons—socially acceptable and yes, proper reasons—for Edith to be joining me."

So much for Io's prayers.

Miss Barrymore gave Io a brief, scathing, glance and said. "Thank you, John." She gestured to her black gown. "I daresay you've noticed that I am in mourning. My dearest Mama recently went to her eternal reward, and so I am officially in my blacks for another ten months. Of course I shall always mourn her in my heart."

Ares snorted.

Both Miss Barrymore and Zeus frowned at her youngest brother.

Io bit her lip to smother a laugh. If they thought dirty looks would be enough to dampen Ares's irrepressible and irreverent sense of humor, they were barking up the wrong tree.

"The wedding will be in England, then?" Eva asked.

"Yes, the ceremony is to take place in St. George's," Miss Barrymore said, a smug, self-satisfied smile curving her lips.

"Oh, that will be so lovely," Eva said dreamily, clearly in seventh heaven imagining such a grand event.

"It will be lovely," Miss Barrymore agreed firmly, as if anything having to do with her was, by definition, lovely. She looked from Eva to the rest of them, obviously waiting for their congratulations.

She would be waiting a long, long time. Io could already see that all her siblings—except Eva and the man who would be marrying Miss Barrymore—were going to rub Zeus's fiancée the wrong way, and vice versa.

When they remained silent, Miss Barrymore treated them to yet another disapproving moue and then said, "There are a good many matters that must be attended to before we depart."

And off she went.

Io blocked out the other woman's hectoring voice as she sipped her tea and glanced around the room, her gaze again stopping on Mr. Masterson, who was staring at Miss Barrymore as if she were some sort of oracle, jotting down notes on the lap desk that looked laughably small compared to his large body. Could the man really be so rapt about what she was saying?

As if he'd heard her, Mr. Masterson's eyes slid in Io's direction. The change in his expression was barely discernable, but the muscles moved under the skin until they formed a subtle mask of disapproval.

Io bristled. Just what right did he have to exhibit such an unfavorable opinion about her or her siblings? He did not even know them!

He did not acknowledge her scowl and his cool gaze slid back to Miss Barrymore, whose droning voice interrupted Io's angry thoughts.

"—however, this will only serve for your most immediate use. Most of the shopping we shall save for London. His Grace will take us all to the capital before the Season officially commences so that you may all be properly outfitted."

Eva made an appreciative noise at the thought of a London shopping excursion and Miss Barrymore gave Io's sister a lofty look of approval—as if Eva were a frolicsome toddler.

Did Zeus really mean to shackle himself to such an overbearing, judgmental woman?

"—but aside from that, the very first thing to be done is to acquire appropriate clothing for your sisters before—"

The word appropriate yanked Io from her contemplation of her oldest brother's grim marital future. "Appropriate?" she repeated.

Miss Barrymore expelled the slightest of pained sighs, as if she were being forced to explain a complicated matter to an imbecile. "Yes, dear. Your garments—as quaint as they are—will hardly do for New York and London. And your hair…Well, I'm not sure if anything can be done to remedy that right now."

"Is that so, dear?" Io asked, her tone causing Bal to nudge her foot under the coffee table.

Her twin cleared his throat loudly. "We all understand that our more relaxed country garments will not do for city entertainments," he interjected. "We have always chosen our own clothing, but I'm sure we would appreciate any guidance you might have to offer."

Miss Barrymore turned her patronizing smile from Io to Balthazar. "I am sure that you've been accustomed to being in charge of your family, my lord. But you may now pass that burden to somebody who is better equipped to bear it."

Bal blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your siblings are no longer your responsibility, but His Grace's. The duke is the head of your family and will manage any important matters for you and your younger siblings."

"Says whom?" Ares asked.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't remember your name," Miss Barrymore said.

She had only met them a quarter of an hour ago and already she'd forgotten their names?

Io opened her mouth.

"Ares," her brother said, beating her to the punch. He smiled brittlely. "The god of war."

"Actually," Miss Barrymore said, completely ignoring Ares's dangerous tone and glancing down at her notebook and making a check mark before looking up again. "You have just raised an important issue."

"I have?" Ares asked.

"Yes: your names."

"What about our names?" Apollo asked.

Io's second youngest brother was also the quietest of the five of them, but that did not mean he was soft and malleable, only that he was inscrutable, even to those who knew him best.

"Clearly you can see that your names are far too odd to be appropriate for the brothers and sisters of a duke." Miss Barrymore suddenly squinted and leaned toward the twins. "Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

"Heterochromia." Apollo enunciated each syllable.

"It means two different colors of irises in the same person," Ares explained in a voice that mimicked Miss Barrymore's tone too closely to be an accident.

"It is quite rare," Apollo said.

"Estimated to occur in less than one percent of the population," Ares said.

Miss Barrymore's head moved back and forth, like a woman watching a tennis match.

"We are proud of our names," Eva chimed in, jerking Miss Barrymore's attention in yet another direction. Eva dimpled at the older woman. "Although it is kind of you to be concerned about the impact they may have on our social success in London."

"We shall not be adopting new names to satisfy anyone, Edith—may I call you by your Christian name, as we are going to be sisters?" Io asked in a syrupy sweet tone that nobody in their right mind would believe genuine.

Edith ignored her question. "I'm sure you are quite attached to your names, but they are rather—"

"Quaint?" Io guessed.

Zeus set down his cup with more haste than grace and cleared his throat. "I believe we've discussed more than enough for today. There will be ample time to talk about all these matters and more in the weeks to come." He turned his pale blue gaze toward Miss Barrymore. "You must be exhausted, my dear. I'm sure my siblings will excuse you."

Io smirked at Miss Barrymore's look of fury at being so obviously, if politely, dismissed.

Miss Barrymore smiled at her betrothed in a way that was probably supposed to be biddable but came across as constipated. "Are you sure you don't need my help to get everyone settled in, John?"

"Collins and I shall manage, my dear."

"Oh, but he is just a butler and doesn't have an appreciation for the finer points."

"Corbin is here to help with that and I am not utterly incompetent on the subject of my own house."

"No, no, of course not," Edith said, finally hearing the iron in Zeus's tone and fluttering her eyelashes, all soft compliance. "I'm sure you are correct, John." She then ruined the image of a gentle bride by turning to her cousin and saying sharply, "Fetch my things, Susan."

Miss Barclay scrambled to her feet. "Yes, of course, Edith."

Miss Barrymore was clearly unhappy to leave them all to settle in without her, but even she must have realized that clinging to Zeus's trousers like a burr would hardly be dignified.

"I shall call for Lady Io and Lady Evadne tomorrow at eleven to take them to my dressmaker." She ignored Io's snort and fixed Eva with yet another of her beneficent half-smiles. "Madame Thérèse has kindly made an opening in her schedule to accommodate you both in private so that you do not need to mix with anyone else."

Her meaning was clear: she would make sure that her betrothed's sisters wouldn't outrage New York Society in their rustic clothing.

"And we look forward to considering what Madame Thérèse has to offer, dear Edith," Io said, speaking in a tone and volume more appropriate to standing on a Boston wharf and reading the Riot Act to revolting colonists.

Zeus hastily placed his body between Edith and Io and said to his fiancée, "I shall see you and Miss Barclay out, my dear." He ushered the women from the room, leaving the other five Hale siblings alone.

Io glanced at her brothers and sister and smiled grimly. "It would seem that we shall have to do something to earn all those millions grandfather left us, after all."

"Io," Bal said in a low voice, darting a look at Zeus's secretary, who still lurked in the background.

"Why do you look so disapproving, brother?" she asked Bal, her gaze on the stranger in their midst. "We need not mind our tongues in front of Mr. Masterson. As our brother's social, er, secretary, he is no doubt aware of the terms of our maternal grandfather's asinine will." She smiled sweetly. "Is that not true, Mr. Masterson?"