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Chapter One
"Where do you think you are going?"
The broad smile on Edwina Pierce's face dissolved at the sound of her half-brother’s voice and when she took in his impatient mien, she knew she had just encountered a wall.
"Why, to the Winfield Masquerade, of course,” she responded, her attempt to keep her annoyance out of her tone wavering ever so slightly.
Tonight, of all nights, Edwina was neither in the mood nor did she have the time to argue with Tommen Pierce. The London Season was drawing to a close and the Winfield Masquerade was the last grand event before the aristocracy would retire to the country to welcome the first winds of autumn.
And after four failed seasons, one could only imagine the desperation that was propelling her actions. She had resolved to get a proposal from a gentleman tonight, even if that meant getting caught in a compromising situation. It was either that or have her freedom taken from her when she would be sent off to become a governess to some Earl’s wards in Cornwall.
"Do you really think I will unleash you at any event so you can continue dragging the family name through mud?" He rested both of his hands on the handle of his cane and raised his chin in the manner that dandies did to show their sophistication. Only he appeared more ridiculous than sophisticated.
“I am not going to be late because you wish to lecture me about our good family name, Tommen,” she said, descending the rest of the steps and brushing past him.
He took her arm and yanked her backward, causing her to nearly stumble and fall. “You will speak to me with respect,” he hissed. “I am Viscount Mercer.” Then his dark eyes did a slow assessment of her attire, a deep-red and silver ensemble picked out by her friend’s mother, Lady Matthews.
The woman’s taste was exquisite, and Edwina had been only too happy to accept her offer to assist in choosing her attire for the masquerade. Having made their bow at the same time, Edwina and her friend, Kitty, had instantly become friends, and Lady Matthews had cared for her like a mother ever since.
"This here is the reason why you are not going out tonight," Tommen declared.
She wrenched her arm free. “You are looking for another excuse for me not to attend. Do you not have something better to occupy yourself with?”
The dress made Edwina feel confident. It would serve her well tonight, she was certain. It flattered her figure in all the right places and the neckline was modest but exposed enough skin to tease any gentleman that dared look. Red was a daring color, designed to draw attention and she believed Lady Matthews chose it to subtly encourage her.
"Your actions reflect on this family, and it is my business to get involved when you look like a harlot hoping to get an offer tonight," Tommen replied, scrunching up his nose in ostensible disgust. "Or is it what you are hoping for?"
Edwina's nails dug painfully into her palms, and she tried her damndest to keep a calm disposition. She needed only to put up with him and his mother a little longer. She did not wish to be thrown out before she succeeded in finding a husband. But then a voice in her head reminded her thata little longerdepended entirely on the outcome of the evening. She simplyhad toattend the ball.
"Dear, Tommy," Edwina said, relishing the displeased look her calling him Tommy brought to his face. He never liked the name and only ever tolerated his mother's use of it. "I am not nine-and-ten years old. I am two-and-twenty, and I can think for myself.”
Edwina was unsure what offended him more; her use of the moniker he detested or her reference to his age. However, the self-consciousness that flashed in his eyes pleased her. Not taken seriously because of his youth offended him and his face began to redden.
He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by his mother's voice as she descended the stairs, adjusting her satin gloves. "Tommy darling, we are running late,” said Prudence Pierce, the Dowager Viscountess of Mercer, Tommen’s mother and Edwina’s stepmother.
He winced, then breathed deeply before returning his attention to Edwina. "The Earl of Cromer has sent someone to escort you to Cornwall, Edwina. He is expected tomorrow morning, thus, I would suggest you go back to your room and start packing your things."
Edwina’s stomach clenched and a short gasp rushed past her lips. "I beg your pardon?"
She had known about Tommen and her stepmother’s plans, but she had apparently underestimated how quickly they wanted her out of the house and their lives. Before she could protest this new development, her stepmother, Prudence, stepped forward.
"Oh, so this is the dress you turned down my offer to go shopping for?" she observed, looking unconcerned as always. "It is a pretty thing… if one is looking to become a woman of easy virtue, of course."
That smugness returned to Tommen's features. “That is exactly what I told her, Mama, but she—”
“Hush, Tommy.” Prudence raised a slender finger. “Edwina is your older sister, and you must speak to her with respect.” He clamped his mouth shut but glared at Edwina. To a stranger, it looked as though her stepmother had just defended her but she knew better. She swallowed the lump gathering in her throat.
"Well, you know they say the women that raise a girl are her first teachers,” Edwina said after deciding to speak her mind. “I merely learned from the best, Mother." She allowed a slight smile to touch her lips.
Edwina's real mother had died when she was but a year old and her father had been quick to remarry only to die a couple of years later, leaving her in the care of Prudence, to whom she might as well not exist.
"How dare you?" Prudence snapped. If Edwina had thought Tommen red earlier, then she had no words to describe their mother's color now. And without giving them the opportunity to further disparage her, she gathered her red skirts and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.
"Did you forget something, My Lady?" her lady's maid, Danny, asked upon her entry into her bedchamber.
"I shall wait and leave for Matthews Manor after they depart and go with Kitty," Edwina said as she flopped onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow.
“Do you want anything, My Lady? Tea perhaps?” Danny asked, concern in her voice.
