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PROLOGUE
The final ball of the Season was always particularly noisy, and this one was no different. Arthur Russell grinned at the glittering assembly and sipped at the wine in his hand. He wasn’t sure how many glasses he’d had, only that it was enough to leave him warm, loose and thoroughly pleased with life in general. A quick glance around his close friends, Ralph, David and Samuel showed they were in much the same state, all of them flushed with wine and satisfaction.
He redirected his gaze to the floor. Men and women from all levels of thetonwere dancing, drinking, or talking. His gaze flicked disinterestedly over those who were obviously paired with someone.
“Got your eye on a pretty lass?” David nudged him lightly in the ribs. “Plenty of them around.”
“That’s as may be, but why should I have my eye on just one?” Arthur smirked. “After all, there’s nothing wrong with examining the field.”
“You have a point there. Each pretty miss possesses her own special charms.” Samuel grinned back. “Why, I’ve heard that Baron Cordell’s second daughter doesn’t make any man be a stranger for long…”
“And why should she? She’s far from the fairest of maids…” Ralph waved a hand dismissively. “There’s nothing to that. Now the Seville girl... there’s a chit to give a man a challenge and the enjoyment of a good gameanda great reward, I’ll wager.” He winked. “Rumor is that it’s not corset stays nor clever tailoring that gives her that bosom.”
“You don’t say?” Arthur blinked, then scanned the crowd until he spotted the girl in question. “Well, that might be well worth the challenge. But I must say, a nice chest isn’t worth much if it comes with a frigid and strait-laced miss who’s not of a mind to share her charms. A bit of a warm welcome is more to my taste, and I’ve heard some things about the eldest Hargrove... pretty face, and a very warm welcome, if you take my meaning.”
They all chuckled. Then David frowned. “A pretty face and a good bed partner’s all very well, but I’d like my woman to have a bit of spirit. It’s no fun if they’re meek as a milkmaid.”
“Mayhap, but who wants a harpy?”
“You’re both right.” Ralph gestured expansively, swaying where he stood. “I mean, you’re right, and you’re wrong if you see my meaning…”
“I don’t think I do…” Samuel blinked with bleary eyes.
“Well, you’re all talking as if you’d only have one choice. But why should that be the case? Why not have a meek maid for when you want a quick, easy tumble and someone with a bit more fire when you’re in the mood for more fun and a little less lady-like behavior?” Ralph swallowed a gulp of wine. “I daresay none of us have been exactly chaste, and I’ll wager that none of us has tied ourselves to one set of apron strings, or corset strings, as the case may be.”
Arthur grinned at Ralph’s lopsided leer. “There’s truth in that. Plenty of willing ladies outside the ton, and in it too, if one looks well enough. And no shame in playing the field for a few years. Sow your oats and all that.”
“I’ll drink to that,” David smirked.
“I’ll not.” Ralph shook his head. “Why settle for a few years of freedom before tying yourself to one woman?”
David shrugged, swaying gently with the effects of the wine. “Well, who says a ring on a girl’s finger has to be the end of a man’s freedom? For myself, now that Ralph’s brought up the point... well, a wife who has to fight for the privilege of her husband’s attention is likely to be more attentive, no?” He smirked. “I see no reason why my wife shouldn’t have to compete for my commitment after the wedding as well as before? It’s not as if they’re so very shy about doing rounds in the Marriage Mart. Let your wedded wife know that her status and security depends as much on keeping your attention as it did on gaining it, I say.”
Ralph shook his head, barely avoiding toppling head-first into a nearby shrub. “Say what you like, and put a ring on a girl’s finger if you want. As for me, I’ll swear here and now that there’s no power on this earth that’ll see me tied to a woman with any sort of promise. I’ll die a well satisfied-bachelor, and never mind all this nonsense of marriage. I’ll take oath on it here and now; you’ll never see me at the altar unless it’s trying to talk one of you away from it!”
“No need to go that far. Some of us must carry on the family name and all that. Someday.” Arthur grinned and raised his glass. “But not for some years yet, I pray. So for now, let’s toast to friends and freedom and the glory of a vigorous and passionate manhood!”
“Friends, freedom, and a passionate manhood!” Glasses clinked, and Arthur downed the last of his wine with a smile.
The ton was full of lovely and willing women, and the lower classes even more so. His father was a duke, and there was plenty of time to sire his own heirs.
For now, he would enjoy his freedom and do as he pleased.
* * *
Another Ball. Another round of the same old dances and most of the same partners. Being in Bath was a nice change from her parent’s country estate, and her aunt was a much nicer chaperone. Her aunt understood that a young woman needed to have some freedom in her life.
But still… every Season was the same, in Bath or London. Balls, dancing, finger foods, and abundant drinks. Men looking for wives, and girls looking for husbands. All being so proper and correct that it was a wonder anyone ever got to know anyone else well enough to get married.
And half the marriages were cool, arranged matters with little passion and less association. A matter of continuing family lines and securing social ties.
How dull.
For all that she had no interest in being a working girl, in truth, at least they got to flirt and enjoy themselves while courting. It might be a bit scandalous, but they had the opportunity to know what the marriage bed was like before they entered into a permanent arrangement. They could fall in love and steal kisses in dark hallways, the scullery or the pantry.
Movement caught her eye, and she turned her head. Her breath hitched.
He was handsome, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, with a lithe figure in a well-cut evening suit, his elegant features full of life and energy. And he was staring straight at her.
