Chapter 1

London, April 1820

Time was not Lady Leticia Crane’s friend, especially since she had to endure one more excruciating London season until she was finally free to make her own choices. At least that was the bargain she had made with her father, the Earl of Pinerose. If she was not married or engaged by August, her dowry, along with her entire inheritance, would be hers.

Hers.

Once her inheritance was finally in her possession, Letty could start her own magazine. It would not be filled with the gossip of the ton. No, she wanted to help all women, but especially ones who had escaped the horrors of slavery, and those alone in the world without a protector. She would do it all on her own, as an independent wealthy lady.

Her mother was once alone with no protection and a small child. Letty wanted to create something that would help women of all voices and experiences, something that would make a difference in the cold world.

She was aware of her good fortune. Being born the daughter of a wealthy earl and a former opera singer set her apart from others of African heritage. Unlike her sister, Cleo, whose father was a mere blacksmith, Letty had an ample number of opportunities afforded to her. It was shocking how differently the ton treated her in comparison to her older sister. However, society only cared about her father’s wealth.

“Really, Letty, must you look so miserable?” her mother asked from the other side of the carriage. “How will you ever find a husband looking like that? I’m told the baron will be in attendance. Do try to grant him a dance or two.”

Lady Pinerose’s rich mahogany skin shone in the moonlight, as honey-colored eyes—the same as her youngest daughter—penetrated Letty. Her mother always had the cunning ability to make Letty feel like a child and not a woman four and twenty, no matter the situation. A chill slid up her spine under her mother’s scrutiny. Every season brokered the same discussion— husbands, but never had it felt so insistent.

Unlike her, Letty wouldn’t give up on her own dreams only to become a wife and mother. Her mother’s sole focus during any season was to marry off her two daughters to the first suitable gentleman. This season, however, she seemed particularly focused on arranging a match between Letty and Baron Oakfield.

Oakfield had inherited a wealthy barony and squandered it all in less than a year. Now he was in need of a rich wife.

Letty ignored every suitor her mother paraded in front of her like they were prize stallions. The truth was none of those particular gentlemen called to her at all because there was only one man she was interested in.

But it mattered not that he was the only person she would actually consider marrying and starting a life with. All that mattered was gaining her inheritance and starting her business.

The carriage jostled along in the slow queue in front of the Duke and Duchess of Richmore’s London mansion. Attending the first ball of the season was all her mother could speak of. Perhaps this would be the ball to change both her daughters’ lives.

Doubtful.

Letty’s life was already changed.

“Now, now darling, do not pester her.” Her father tapped her mother’s hand three times.

It was his customary fashion to always give her mother three light taps. Letty was convinced it was a signal between them, her father’s way to calm her whenever she became upset or disgruntled. It always tugged a smile at Letty’s lips, seeing the quiet affection between her parents.

Her mother shook her head, a loose curl coming free from her coiffure. “It’s not pestering. She needs a husband. They both do?—”

“I don’t need a husband, nor do I want one.” Cleo interrupted what Letty knew was sure to be a long diatribe from their mother.

“Every lady needs a husband. It is our way; you both must remember that this season.” Her mother held out a firm finger, pointing it at them, her pretty face stoic.

Letty peered out the small carriage window. Joy filled her when she noticed they were next in the queue. The sooner she escaped her mother, the better.

Her pulse quickened at the thought of seeing him again. It had been months since Mac Meriweather had visited her home, and she longed to lay her eyes on the burly Scotsman.

A husband was the last thing she needed in her life. She had a purpose. However, it did not stop her from fantasizing about a future with Mac.

Dash it!

“All I need is my inheritance, which Papa has promised he will release to me at the end of this season.” Letty smiled smugly, ignoring the small sting in her throat at what she would be giving up. Stormy gray eyes, lips that awakened parts of her she did not know existed, and arms that felt as if she had finally found a home with another person.

“I wish you had not made her such a ridiculous promise,” her mother said to her father.

The glare of disapproval her mother was giving him was one that Letty saw often, anytime her mother felt he was being too lenient toward her.

“Why ever not?” Cleo demanded from beside Letty. “She wants to help people rather than be a useless debutante.”

“She doesn’t need to start a women’s magazine to help people.” Her mother shook her head as the carriage rattled forward. “You should be ashamed of yourselves for encouraging her. No gentleman will want a wife who insists on partaking in such pursuits.”

Letty sat forward.“Then he is not the gentleman for me. I want to create a magazine for women. My magazine will have information to help them—not the latest fashions, not what to carry in a reticule, but how to educate themselves and find employment.” Letty met her mother’s hard stare with a determined one.

The lack of information and resources for all women but especially women of colorwas abhorrent and she would change that.

She loved her mother, really, she did, but sometimes the woman was infuriating. It was hard to believe that Eugenia Crane was once a working opera singer alone with a small daughter.

Her sister had told her tales of hungry nights, always traveling from place to place—until their mother met Letty’s father, who had fallen in love with her instantly.

“Enough of this bickering.” Her father tapped her mother’s knee three times. “I’ve already agreed that Letty will gain access to her inheritance and dowry if she doesn’t marry this season. She’s smart and responsible, and I trust her to handle her funds. She has a good mind for business, Eugenia.” His hazel gaze bounced from her mother to Letty.

Letty loved her father. He was her biggest advocate in life. He gave her a playful wink. A white forelock teasing his wrinkled forehead.

Her mother let out a huff of annoyance but did not argue further on the matter. She knew as well as Letty that the earl doted on his only daughter, granting her whatever she wished. Her father, a kind but firm man, expected Letty to behave according to her station in life. As long as she abided by his rules, she would receive her heart’s desire.

The carriage came to a stop, and a quick knock on the door signaled it was now time to partake in society.

Letty ignored the furious thumping in her heart at the thought of seeing Mac again. He was an acquaintance of her brother’s that had spent a glorious fortnight with her family during her father’s annual hunt. One could not ignore his good looks and charms, but what she really admired about him was the fact that he owned and operated his own paper, The Hard Truth, which focused on informing the public about the horrors of slavery throughout the world.

Her friendship with Mac had started off from their joined passion for freedom and love of words. It had morphed into an easy flirtation: meeting in the library, the gardens, the orangery, and riding through her family’s large estate in Norfolk. It all culminated with a kiss—kisses. But all those glorious kisses wouldn’t detour her from her plan.

Exiting the carriage, she took her sister’s arm, following her parents up the stairs to Hamilton House, the home of the duke and duchess. The duke had married a year earlier, and according to her sister, who knew all the gossip of the ton, he had met his duchess at the scandalous Pleasure House and now had an heir.

“Lord and Lady Pinerose, welcome.” The Duke of Richmore bowed gracefully.

He was by far one of the largest men of society, towering over his much smaller wife, who looked quite beautiful with her golden hair and clear blue eyes.

“Richmore, Your Grace.” Her father bowed to the duchess before standing, giving them both a kind smile. “Thank you for having us. May I introduce my wife, my daughter, and stepdaughter.” He waved his hand toward his family.

“It is lovely to meet you all,” the duchess said with a wide smile on her face. “Please enjoy the ball. I look forward to speaking with you.”

Her mother dipped into an elegant curtsey. “Thank you, Your Grace. You are too kind.”

Leading them away, her father pressed his withered hand to the small of her mother’s back. Their age difference never bothered Letty, but she always noticed the looks they received from society.

“How impressive that she was able to capture a duke for a second husband and did not even have a season to get the first,” her mother voiced as they entered the elaborately decorated ballroom.

Glowing crystal chandeliers hung from the painted ceiling as dark green curtains hung from the large windows. The ballroom was filled with London’s elite, all turning to stare as the family was introduced.

“Really Mother, must we envy everyone with a husband?” Cleo asked in a hushed annoyed voice.

“You should envy her; she’s already on her second husband,” her mother replied as a maid handed both Letty and Cleo a dance card with a pencil attached.

Her father passed his card to the stately butler. The butler stepped forward, reading out loud to the crowded ballroom.

“Lord and Lady Pinerose, and their daughters, Lady Leticia Crane and Miss Clementine Hayward.”

Letty held her breath as the whispers began, and everyone in the ballroom eyed her family as if they were something on display at the Louvre in Paris. Her parents had long been the subject of gossip because of their age difference and unconventional love story. Add in a child from a previous marriage and tongues wagged … constantly.

Excusing herself from her parents, Letty walked toward the protective confines of the wall, willing herself not to peer around the crowded ballroom for Mac. She tried to convince herself she hadn’t been thinking about his kisses, easy smile, dark hair and penetrating eyes these past six months, but she had.

After spending a fortnight in his company, Letty was absolutely heartbroken when Mac Meriweather left her family’s estate. They had met in the library the night before he left for a long embrace filled with kisses and promises. A few letters over their time a part was the only proof of his feelings for her. A few innocent kisses surely did not mean anything for a man such as Mac. There was absolutely nothing between them. Nothing, but easy conversation, a hunger for change, and a passion that she only dreamed of.

Sitting back in the plush chair, Letty commended the duke and duchess for choosing such comfortable chairs to outline the dance floor. Over her two failed seasons, Letty had taken great interest in which ball had the most well-situated seating for the wallflowers. It showed a certain care for those who would sit on the fringe of the ball watching as others danced and enjoyed themselves. She never cared much for dancing or conversing, especially with how critical the ton was of her family. That simple fact was why she preferred a chair of some comfort if she was to sit the entire ball while her mother and father interacted with all of society.

Usually, her sister would join her, but tonight she was currently arguing with their mother, probably concerning her mother’s behavior.

The musicians began playing the beginning notes of a quadrille, and Letty couldn’t control her feet from tapping or stop herself from humming the lively tune. Though dancing was a challenge for her, she had indeed inherited her mother’s love for music.

“I’ve been waiting on you to arrive,” a smooth voice said from her right.

Letty turned her head, taking in the handsome face of Mac Meriweather, his cloudy gray eyes dancing with joy at the sight of her.

Her skin heated, her stays tightening as her breathing increased. Letty cursed under her breath, damnit. He’d caught her unaware.

That was a dangerous game for her, because there was one thing for certain: she needed to always be on her guard around Mac Meriweather.