Chapter 1

Chapter One

March 1819

E mily Clay never could have imagined that holding hands with a gentleman under the dinner table would make her feel so scandalous.

She did everything possible to appear unaffected. Using her right hand, she took a sip from her glass, then used the serviette to dab her lips. The Duke and Duchess of Norland, her guardians, were talking about some thing or other, along with the duke's mother, the Dowager Duchess of Norland, and Emily smiled to bear the look of someone invested in the conversation.

Meanwhile, her left hand was secretly occupied, and her thoughts were focused entirely on that one thing. Though her cheeks burned, Emily was certain it would not be visible in the dim candlelight. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and were it not for the current discussion, she was certain it would be plenty audible to anyone in the room. Any time Mr. Richard Evans brushed his thumb over the back of her ungloved hand, Emily had to bite her lip to keep from squealing with delight. She didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize all the hard work she'd put into finally finding someone to marry.

She'd already met countless suitors, only for each one of them to be shot down for having any minor flaw in the duke's detailed perspective. He had been meticulous in permitting callers, which meant Emily had endured multiple seasons in a row, nearly marking her as a wealthy spinster for good. But luckily, just after her twentieth birthday, they had finally discovered the perfect gentleman.

Mr. Evans seemed to meet the duke's lengthy list of requirements. A gentleman of good breeding, despite not having a title, though he had more wealth than some titled gentlemen. His manners were pristine and his character impeccable. He had not an ounce of depravity or disgrace in his family or history. He was well-educated and had traveled much to expand his mind. All points in his favor.

But of perhaps more importance, he met Emily's simple qualifications. He was good and kind. He spoke softly and honestly. He did not care for London society and had a country estate that he longed to return to, with plenty of horses and acres for horseback riding, which would suit Emily and her mare, Morgana, just fine. To her great astonishment, he was not put off by the duke's boorish behavior, and he laughed affably with both the dowager and the duchess. He had even charmed the duke's son before little Theodore had been returned to the nursery. And he did not care that Emily had been brought up in a boarding school, that her parentage was entirely unknown. That spoke volumes of his character and what he valued.

And lastly, he was inherently attractive.

Emily had to guard herself any time she glanced his way, because she could easily stare at Mr. Evans for any length of time and never tire of the sight. His light hair often caught the sunlight on a bright day, and his blue eyes were a paler shade compared to her own. He bore a straight nose, a strong jaw, and an easy smile that often puddled her heart into butterflies. That she had found such a gentleman of near-perfect qualities who also suited her in personality was a blessing she realized not everyone came by, which is why she was desperate not to lose him.

The Duchess of Norland, Isabel Barrington, stood from the dining table and tugged on her gloves. "Ladies, why don't we leave the gentlemen to their drink and talk? We can wait for them in the drawing room."

Mr. Evans dropped Emily's hand, and immediately she hated the lack of his touch. "Very well," she replied, reluctantly doing the same with her gloves.

"Ah, yes." Anne Barrington, the dowager duchess, grinned, wrinkles appearing at the corners of her smile. "In fact, I received Lady Whetstone's pamphlet this afternoon, and such scandal requires an audience. Shall we?"

"Nothing entertains you more than gossip, does it?" Isabel asked her teasingly.

"Indeed, for she wields a mighty pen, and her words are as sharp as her name suggests." The dowager stood with a cough, but when Isabel placed a hand of concern on her back, the older woman shook her head and carried on.

"Actually," Mr. Evans said, standing from his seat, "Do not leave on my account. I cannot stay long. You will excuse me for not partaking in your hospitality, Your Grace."

"No need to apologize to me, Mr. Evans. The less entertaining I do, the better." James Barrington, Duke of Norland, sat back in his seat with a satisfied smile. The man rarely smiled, reminding Emily that he'd previously been called the Undesirable Duke, though she'd never uncovered the reason why .

"I thank you all for the kind dinner invitation." Then Mr. Evans stood and bowed. "We'll be certain to have you to dinner once my father's health improves."

"Of course, my boy." The dowager duchess waved him on. "Do give him our very best."

"Allow me to see you out," Emily said in a rush, not ready for him to be gone yet.

Meeting him at the end of the table, he extended his arm to her and they walked out into the foyer.

"Must you go?" Emily whispered. "I thought you would take the opportunity to speak to the duke tonight."

Mr. Evans looked up with regret in his eyes, no doubt knowing that his words would disappoint her. "My father is not feeling well, else he would have joined us, and I only want to be sure it is not something serious, that it is not the same illness that took my mother."

Emily's heart sank. "Yes, of course. I hope he has a quick recovery."

He nodded, taking up her gloved hand in his own again. "But I did not want this day to pass without having an opportunity to see you again."

There was no stopping the grin that spread across Emily's lips, and she was certain he would see stars in her eyes she could no longer conceal. "I'm grateful for whatever time we have, and only hope for more in the near future."

"You will be at Lady Hartfield's ball?" he asked.

Emily nodded emphatically.

"I hope by then, my father's health will be secure. And if so, then I will seek out a moment alone with the duke." He looked down and intertwined his fingers with hers, making her heart skip a beat. "I feel it's possible I may have won his approval, however reluctant he might be to give it." Mr. Evans then met her gaze, holding her hand firmly in his own. "And I intend to prove myself worthy of you, in hopes that we might have a chance to create a beautiful life together."

"Mr. Evans…" His words left her breathless and ready to swoon. They were things she had waited so long to hear. She only needed a chance to secure it. After years of uncertainty, without a place or person to call home, she felt certain she'd finally found where she belonged. With him.

"I must go," he said. "But only until the ball."

Emily nodded, clearing her throat. "Until the ball."

He gathered his hat and disappeared out the front door, and Emily immediately moved to the window beside it, pushing the curtains away to watch him leave. She pressed a hand flat to her chest and let out a sigh that released what was both painful and beautiful in her heart.

"Ahem."

Emily jumped at the sound and turned to see the duchess standing in the corridor doorway with a knowing smile.

"Isabel!" Emily rushed across the foyer with her hands outstretched. "Please tell me the duke sees Mr. Evans as a suitable option."

The duchess simply tucked Emily's hand into the crook of her elbow and walked with her down the corridor toward the drawing room. "Are you so desperate to leave us?"

"Oh, not at all! You know that I have never been happier than I have been with you." That much was true. She'd always been content growing up in the boarding school, blessed with the presence of friends and never mistreated. But she'd always harbored a desire to have a family of her own, to find the place she belonged. And now, she might have finally discovered it.

Emily shook her head and continued. "But out of all the suitors these past seasons, I've never grown so attached to someone as I have with Mr. Evans. And if the duke refuses his suit, I feel that my heart cannot bear it. "

Isabel chuckled. "You do not often take to dramatics, Emily, but whenever you do, it reminds me of your moth—"

Both of them stopped in their tracks. Emily gasped as Isabel closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

"I knew you knew the truth!" Emily whispered, tugging on her arm in desperation. "Isabel Barrington, you must tell me what you know!"

But the duchess shook her head, bearing the same look of regret that Mr. Evans had worn mere moments before. "I cannot. I am the duke's secret-keeper, and I will not betray my husband. However," she paused, patting Emily's hand, "I would never betray you either. He will tell you the whole of it someday. Will you at least trust me that much?"

Emily could hardly take this new information in peace, but she reluctantly nodded. "Very well."

"And try not to think ill of the duke," Isabel said as she returned to her pace down the corridor. "He really has only tried to do what he thinks is best for you, given the circumstances."

But it was those mysterious circumstances that Emily wanted to know. What had brought the duke to the boarding school that night after so many years? Why had he brought her out into society with the promise of such a hefty dowry hanging over her head? Was it his way of paying some sort of penance from the sins of his past? Of his parents?

"Now as for Mr. Evans," Isabel said, drawing Emily's thoughts away from her curiosities. "I encourage you to hold on to your hope. Out of all the eligible gentlemen in London, and it certainly feels like we've met the lot of them, I say with certainty that I feel that Mr. Evans is your best possible match, and I will do all I can to ensure the duke sees that as well, if he doesn't already."

Emily nodded, pulling Isabel into a tight embrace. The duchess was only a few years her senior, and the closest thing to a sister Emily had ever known, especially if her suspicions about the duke were correct. Now all she could do was hope and pray that her guardian would give up whatever sense of guilt or regret had shielded her from any previous entanglements, while at the same time thanking the stars above she had been saved from marrying anyone before she had the chance to meet Mr. Evans. He was the only man she wanted.

"Now, come along," Isabel said. "I believe the dowager duchess will not rest until her gossip is shared."