Chapter 1

"Harriet..." Jennifer Lourne, the dowager countess of Notley, looked at her daughter helplessly and Harriet shook her head, tears forming in her eyes.

"I cannot believe he is doing this, Mother," she exclaimed, her voice booming through the small room. For a second, she glanced around furtively - but then the irritation won over the concern and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"It is none of his business," she exclaimed now, tears forming in her eyes. "It is none of his business at all when I marry, if I marry... and now..."

She shook her head. "It is just not fair," she repeated. Jennifer sighed and pulled her daughter towards her in a one-armed embrace.

"Oh, my darling," she sighed now. "I understand how you feel - and if your father were alive, things may have been different. But as it is now, we have to comply with what society says... and society believes that your brother has the right to take... control... of your affairs, mine too."

At this, Harriet shook her head quickly.

"I cannot imagine that you are happy about this," she exclaimed. "I cannot think that you are satisfied with him having control over your person, your choices."

Jennifer sighed and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Your father was a man like no other, my darling," she explained carefully. "He... allowed me to think for myself, to do as I wanted. Your brother... is traditional."

Whatever else she may have wanted to say remained unsaid when a footman entered the drawing-room where the women sat.

"My ladies," the young man spoke, looking from one to the other carefully. "Lord Notley asked me to send for you. The carriage is waiting."

Despite her growing rage at her brother, Harriet remained silent as she followed her mother to the carriage. William stood outside, his face an impassive mask as he helped the women in. Once seated inside the carriage, Harriet's knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. Leave it to her brother to attempt to sell her off to the highest bidder as though she were a prize cow. Frustration boiled over in her and she shook her head slightly.

Her father, she knew, never would have allowed this. Across from her, William"s brow furrowed in exasperation, his attempts at persuasion falling on deaf ears.

"You simply must be more open, Harriet," William insisted, his voice tinged with frustration. "The marriage mart is not something to be taken lightly. You need to make an effort to meet eligible suitors."

Harriet scoffed, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I refuse to be treated like a piece of cattle, William," she shot back, her words sharp with indignation. "I will not be paraded around and sold off to the highest bidder like some commodity."

Their mother leaned back in her seat with lifted brows as she watched her children bicker. It was clear, she could tell, by Harriet's reddening face and William's pursed lips, that the argument was about to escalate.

"Darlings, can"t we keep this journey light and merry?" Jennifer chimed in, her tone light-hearted. "Life"s too short to fret over societal expectations. Harriet, my dear, follow your heart. That"s all that truly matters in the end."

Harriet"s gaze softened at her mother"s words, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Mother," she whispered before shooting her brother a glare. "I am glad that someone in this family values my person more than society's expectations."

"But Mother, you don"t understand," William interjected, his frustration evident in his voice. "Harriet needs to be practical. She can"t afford to be so stubborn about this."

Jennifer simply shrugged and shook her head with a sigh. "Oh, but William, my boy, where"s the fun in being practical all the time?" she teased, her playful demeanor wavering and a serious note creeping into her voice. "Sometimes, a little rebellion is exactly what"s needed to shake things up."

"Rebellion?" William scoffed at this and glanced at his sister. "Forgive me, Mother, but... Harriet is not getting any younger."

Harriet scowled at this, and Jennifer quickly reached over to squeeze her daughter's hand. Her gaze was guarded. "Don"t let him bait you, darling," she whispered, and Harriet shook her head, anger coursing through her.

William looked far more emotional than she'd seen him in quite a while - the pertinent emotion being irritation. "Harriet," he said exasperatedly, as though he was talking to a child.

"Whether or not you like the expectations of society, you have to accept them," he explained.

"Why?" she shot quickly. "Why is it so important to you that I do what is expected of society?"

William sighed deeply. "As the Earl of Notley," he said slowly, "it is my responsibility to take care of you, Harriet. Of you and Mother."

"I can take care of myself."

Harriet realized the ridiculousness of her words the second they left her lips and a deep blush settled on her cheeks almost instantly.

William laughed at her derisively and shook his head. "Please, Harriet," he said with a short laugh. "Your only chance of being looked after is if you stay under my roof - or marry."

Before Harriet could think to respond, the carriage came to a sudden halt - and within seconds the frown disappeared from her brother's face, making room for a charming grin. He jumped from the carriage quickly and made his way towards the crowd.

This, of course, irked Harriet even more and she watched, aghast, as the irritable brother disappeared to make space for the paragon of charm and delight. She stepped out of the carriage with a deep sigh, her eyes following her brother.

"Good day, Lord Silverwood," he exclaimed upon seeing an elderly gentleman - and soon he was swallowed by the crowd, though his laughter still drifted in her direction every so often.

Harriet scowled at his back and Jennifer reached out to take her daughter's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"My darling," she started hesitantly. "I know that William's ways are not easy to understand," she said and Harriet shook her head, angry tears brimming behind her eyelids. She looked at her mother desperately.

"Mother... Is... is this what you want for me?"

Jennifer laid a gentle hand against her daughter's cheek and shook her head. "My darling," she said softly. "All I want for you is happiness. And yes, perhaps your brother is... wound a little tightly, but..."

Harriet looked at Jennifer pleadingly and the latter flashed her a melancholic smile.

"Perhaps it is not the worst event to attend," Jennifer finally said with a soft laugh. "You might end up enjoying it - like your brother!"

Jennifer gestured to where William stood surrounded by other men and she flashed her daughter a smile before making her own way through the crowd as well. For a while, Harriet could only stare at William.

Here, between his peers, he was the picture of joy and friendliness - nothing like the coldness he showed her or their mother.

As she moved towards the manor, her frustration bubbled like a pot about to boil over. "Fool," she grumbled. "Absolute dimwitted..."

Lost in her internal tirade, she failed to notice the approaching gentleman until she collided with him with a force that nearly sent her stumbling backward.

"Oi, watch where you"re going!" she exclaimed, her irritation ringing clear in her voice.

Looking up to deliver a scathing retort, she found herself staring into a pair of striking green eyes, their intensity momentarily stealing her words.

The man, a towering figure with a commanding presence, arched an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Are you all right, lass?" he asked in a thick Scottish accent, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the unfortunate collision.

Harriet blinked, taken aback by the unexpected kindness. "I-I"m fine," she stammered, regaining her composure. "Mostly. You are quite the block of a man."

He nodded, a faint smile quirking the corners of his lips. "I apologize for that. No worries for walkin' right into me. It happens to the best of us. Just mind your step next time, eh?"

Harriet, still reeling from the unexpected encounter, refused to let the gentleman slip away so easily. As he attempted to excuse himself and move on, she reached out to stop him, her irritation boiling over.

"You can"t just walk away after nearly knocking me over!" she snapped, her tone sharp with indignation.

He turned back to her, a bemused expression playing across his features. "I dinnae mean to startle ye, lass," he replied, his Scottish brogue softening the edge of his words.

Harriet"s temper flared at his calm demeanor, his earlier admonishment fueling her frustration. "Startle me? Startle me?!" she repeated incredulously, her voice rising in pitch. "If anyone should be startled, it"s me! You"re the one who was practically blocking the entire doorway!"

He chuckled softly at her outburst, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his green eyes. "Aye, I suppose I am a bit on the tall side," he admitted, his tone light.

Harriet bristled at his nonchalant response, her patience wearing thin. "Well, perhaps you should try being less tall then!" she retorted scathingly, her hands gesturing emphatically.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement still lingering in his gaze. "And how, pray tell, am I to accomplish that?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye.

Harriet narrowed her eyes at him, her frustration reaching its peak. "I don"t know, maybe stop growing like a beanstalk!" she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm.

He chuckled again, a deep rumble of laughter that seemed to fill the space between them. "Well, lass, I"ll keep that in mind for next time," he replied with a grin, his good humor seemingly unshakeable.

This frustrated Harriet even more. How dare he find it funny? Could this man not see the absurdity of the situation? She glared up at him, irritation growing within her when she saw the humored smile playing around his lips.

"Do you laugh about everything?" she shot now, her eyes blazing.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked up at him, craning her neck to make out his face. He was, she had to admit despite herself, not at all ugly. There was something quite handsome about the particular shade of his eyes and the curve of his lips. This only angered her more.

"I suppose it depends on the situation," he replied with a playful wink, his smile never faltering.

Harriet scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, aren"t you just full of wit and charm," she muttered sarcastically, her tone dripping with disdain.

The man chuckled, unfazed by her sharp words. "Aye, that I am," he agreed with a grin. "But it seems I"ve yet to win over the charming lady before me."

Harriet rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his attempts at flattery. "Oh, spare me the compliments," she retorted. "I highly doubt you"re as charming as you think you are."

"Oh, I must say, that no one has ever accused me of being charming. I believe they prefer roguish." He flashed her a rueful smile and lifted his brows as he looked down at her.

At this, Harriet huffed. "Well, I cannot say that I disagree with them," she challenged, and he lifted a brow at this.

"Ye are rather outspoken, me lady," he said, though a laugh was still audible in his tone.

Harriet folded her arms at this, then lifted her chin. "Yes," she said coldly, her brother's various admonishments suddenly filling her head.

‘A woman must be silent, Harriet,' William's voice coursed through her memory and she scowled.

A woman must know her place. A woman must find a good husband. A woman must have children. A woman must respect gentlemen.

"I suppose," she said now, a dangerous anger taking hold of her, "that you are about to tell me that a woman must know her place and not speak her mind?"

She did not give him the opportunity to answer. Instead, she walked away from him quickly - pushing through the crowds and leaving the frustrating Scotsman behind her. She would pay him no mind, she decided as she moved forward quickly - the echo of his laugh following her as she went.