Page 1 of A Marriage of Necessity

Rules of Refinement

Noblemen aren’t always honorable… but a rake is always charming

In a narrow lane off Edinburgh’s illustrious Charlotte Square, stands a town house that is not quite as impressive as nearby residences, but remains a place of distinction. An air of quiet dignity is maintained by the courtyard that fronts the street, while privacy is assured by a wrought-iron gateway. This house is Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies and is owned and run by Lady Honoria Peddington.

Girls fortunate enough to attend the academy are instructed in all aspects of proper comportment with emphasis on the importance of a pleasing demeanor and appearance, grace and good manners, the skills a lady needs to run a large, well-to-do household, and – of course - the necessity and advantages of an impeccable reputation. Scandal, the girls are warned, must be avoided at all costs.

Lady Peddington’s own reputation is the finest, and all Edinburgh considers her above reproach. She is especially well-loved by the affluent merchants and lesser gentry who live on the fringes of the city’s New Town where she operates her school. These clients appreciate her knack at finding affluent husbands for their daughters. No one suspects that her knowledge of men comes from the long-ago days when she wasn’t Lady Honoria Peddington, but simply Honey Pedding who ran a well-doing Glasgow brothel.

Those skills, though secret, still serve her well, for when her school’s famed graduation balls fail to secure suitable husbands for some of her more high-spirited girls, other gentlemen come to the fore, eager to accept these gems as pampered mistresses. So, however a girl’s heart might lean, Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies guarantees happiness for all.

Chapter One

Anne angled away from her best friend, Jeanine, drew back the edge of her glove, and glanced at the face of the silver gilded watch pinned to the inside of the fabric. 11:57. If her watch was correct, and the time piece had kept perfect time for three generations, the third ball of the season would end in three minutes when the minuet concluded. Then Lady Peddington’s famed Midnight Ball would begin.

A year of her life, along with funds her family could ill afford to lose, gone. All for nothing, if she didn’t find a wealthy husband by the next ball, which was one short week away. Her heart constricted. Oh, papa, why didn’t you tell us?

She knew why. Her father had been a Weber male through and through. They were stubborn to a fault, determined to care for their own at all costs, and slaves to the gambling halls. In the end, he had the presence of mind to lay down his cards before he lost the castle on Loch Lomond, and the estate and land north of Perth. Her father, however, feared he couldn’t resist the temptation to gamble away their remaining holdings and drank himself to death.

The need to cry rushed to the surface.

Nae, the time for despair was long past. She had to—

A tall, dark, good-looking gentleman approached. Anne’s mind snapped to attention. Two minutes remained of the respectable ball. It was impossible to join in the dance so late in the set, but would this gentleman engage her in conversation? He continued toward them. Anne turned her attention to Jeanine. It wouldn’t do for her to appear too eager.

“I am so glad this ball is almost over,” Jeanine said. “I met an interesting gentleman earlier. He’s older—though not old enough for my purposes.” She sighed. “It is so hot and stuffy in here. I think there are more guests tonight than last week. I wonder if there will be even more for the final ball of the season next week.”

From the corner of her eye, Anne watched the man’s approach. He brushed past a group of men.

“Aye, it is warm tonight,” Anne said to Jeanine. “We can go back to our rooms together, if ye like.”

The man reached them, and she and Jeanine faced him. He looked at Anne. Her pulse jumped. Finally, a gentleman was going to speak with her. He would be the first of the evening.

Then his attention shifted to Jeanine. “Would ye honor me with a turn around the ballroom?”

Tears stung Anne’s eyes. She ducked her head as Jeanine said, “I am tired. But Lady Anne is free. Why don’t you walk with her?”

Anne snapped her head up in time to see the man stiffen. “I beg your pardon, but it is getting late,” he said. “I must be going. Have a good evening.” He started to turn.

“Wait,” Jeanine cried. The man stopped, interest lighting his eyes. “Why won’t you walk with Anne?” Jeanine demanded.

“Jeanine,” Anne hissed under her breath, and she glanced at a group of nearby ladies who were frowning in their direction. But Jeanine ignored her.

“Do you know that she’s the heir to a title?” Jeanine asked.

“I have no need of a title,” he said, and before they could reply, he spun and strode away.

Jeanine faced her. “I am certain of it. Linda and Dorothy are speaking badly about you. Fiona, too, I wager,” she added in a dark tone.

“Why would they?” Anne said. “What can they possibly say that would alienate these gentlemen? And why say anything at all? There are plenty of gentlemen seeking ladies.”

“Because the gentlemen fawned all over you that first night,” Jeanine said. “You’re more beautiful than any other lady here.”

That, Anne knew, was untrue. There were some very beautiful girls here. Jeanine was one. But leave it to Jeanine to be loyal to a fault. Still, something was wrong, and Anne couldn’t escape the feeling that the girls Jeanine had named did have something to do with it.

The lights began to dim. Her heart fell. The respectable ball had ended. Anne spotted half a dozen servants weaving throughout the ballroom and snuffing out candles. They would extinguish more than half the candles, leaving the massive room with many shadows.

“It’s time to leave,” Jeanine said.