Chapter 1
Mayfair, London - Spring 1816
Thea
LadyTheodoraHastinghadperfected the art of looking interested in men who bored her.It was a wonder any man attempted to speak with her at all, given that she was damaged goods.She’d already been betrothed once and had only accepted him out of resignation.And when he died, the mourning period lasted longer than the engagement itself.
Now, her mother had resumed the campaign to marry her off with renewed vigor, so Thea stood in the Ashworth ballroom nodding at Lord Pemberton's discourse on sheep husbandry while scanning the crowd for an escape route.
“The Southdown breed, you see, produces a superior fleece,” Pemberton droned on.“My estate manager believes we could increase yield by—”
“How fascinating.”Thea's smile never wavered.Over Pemberton's shoulder, she caught her mother's watchful gaze from across the room.Lady Hasting stood with a cluster of matrons, but her attention remained fixed on her daughter.
A hand appeared at Pemberton's elbow.“Forgive the interruption.”
Wesley.The Duke of Greystone, if one wanted to be formal about it.Thea had known him since they were children, back when he was just the heir, and she was the girl who beat him at cards and laughed at his jokes.Before his father died, turning him into a title and just an occasional glimpse of the man she used to know.
He used to be fun and succumb to her antics, but he’d grown far too serious since becoming a duke.
Even still, she'd spent years wanting him to look at her in the ways she’d imagined.That he might see her as more than the wild girl who climbed trees faster than him.
“Your Grace.”Pemberton executed the required bow.
“I believe Lady Theodora promised me this dance.”Wesley extended his hand toward her, his signet ring worn over his glove showing the initials “WD”.She wondered what it meant.Wesley Duke?That would be silly.But then she swiftly forgot about the ring, and her stomach tightened from imagining his large hands on her body.“Unless this conversation is too engaging to abandon?”
Thea placed her fingers in Wesley's palm and felt his warmth even through two layers of kid leather.
“I didn't promise you anything,” she said once they were out of earshot.
“You looked like you were considering throwing yourself from the nearest window.I assumed you'd prefer a waltz over the prospect of uncertain death.”
“That depends.If there is a tree outside that window, I would make it down safely.But I trust that you will prove to be a more engaging conversationalist, so I might avoid tearing my dress on the branches.”
His mouth tipped at one corner.That half-smile could make her melt into the floor.“I shan’t do much worse.”
The orchestra struck up a waltz.Wesley's hand settled at her back, warm through the silk of her gown, and Thea had to remind herself to breathe.His other hand clasped hers, drawing her close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the slight tension at the corners of his mouth.
She placed her palm on his shoulder and felt the muscle beneath his coat.This was Wesley.She'd known him half her life.She had no business noticing the breadth of his shoulders or wondering what his skin would feel like under her hands instead of all this damned fabric.
But the boy she'd known had grown into something else entirely.Taller than she remembered, though she saw him at every ball, musicale, and garden party the Season demanded.Dark hair that had once fallen into his eyes now combed back.A jaw she wanted to trace with her fingers, and a mouth she'd thought about far more than she should admit.
“You never came to visit over the holidays.I wasn’t certain you’d attend the Season,” he said as they moved into the first turn.
She scoffed.“You could have come to call on us yourself.”
“Last I heard, dear Thea, you were still in mourning.”
“Grief takes time.”Not exactly a lie.She had grieved for William, in her way.He'd been kind and funny.He had made her feel like perhaps she could build a life with someone, even if that someone wasn't—
She cut the thought short.
“Besides,” she continued, “that’s just what I’ve been telling Mama to earn myself a respite from her matchmaking attempts.”
“I think your mother has caught onto your ruse.”Wesley’s hand was firm at her waist, his thigh brushing hers as they turned.And she wanted to press herself against him.
“Undoubtedly.”
“If you should require my assistance this Season, I’ll be there.”His voice dropped on the last few words, and Thea looked up before she could stop herself.His expression hadn't changed—still pleasant, still guarded—but his hand had tightened.“Since it doesn’t seem your mother has a good measure on who is right for you.”
