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CHAPTERONE
Lady Mirabelle Smith had a secret.The sort that had likely crushed the souls of many a young woman through the course of time and would wound many more. The weight of it would not let her be…
She drew in a breath, her gaze scanning the manicured gardens of the Baron of Boxby’s country estate. The lush gardens rustled softly in the summer breeze, only enhancing the bucolic air that infused this place.
It was like a fantasy compared with her modest London home and heavenly compared with her first home on the east side of London. In retrospect, she had little understanding of how her father had allowed them to live there for so long. But today was not the day for such thoughts. Today was her brother’s wedding day.
That same breeze rustled her skirts and an errant lock of her dark brown hair that she attempted to tuck behind her ear. She wished she were blond like her sister, Anna. A true beauty, Anna was often compared to an angel.
No one would mistake Mirabelle for an ethereal figure. Her dark hair and eyes were far more suited to dastardly deeds.
Like keeping secrets. She was a woman used to holding the truth close. As the bastard daughter of the Earl of Easton, she’d grown up understanding the stigma that surrounded her birth. And when her father had orchestrated for her eldest brother to become the heir to a marquessate…the entire family had had to keep that secret.
But that was the sort of falsehood that she’d been able to go days without thinking on, weeks even.
And then she’d had one confidante: her best friend, Emily Boxby. Soon to be Emily Smith. Emily was marrying Mirabelle’s eldest brother and officially becoming her sister. Mirabelle couldn’t be more thrilled.
And the fact that their legitimate brother, the Earl of Easton, was going to support her brother Ace’s claim to the marquessate brought her tantalizingly close to fulfilling her greatest wish, her biggest secret of all.
Mirabelle wished to be a proper lady. Not just in name. Technically, she was Lady Mirabelle. When her brother succeeded to the marquessate, her title as a lady had been solidified. But she didn’t just want the name of lady, she wanted to be a lady. And most of all, she wanted to be accepted by the other women of theton. The ones who looked down on her and had since she was a child. Emily had been the only exception.
But Mirabelle’s most secret desire was to be one of those women. Beautiful and gracious, one of the few who was accepted and loved. Part of a club that, between her looks and her birth, she’d never been able to touch.
Her breath caught in her chest just to think it as she moved toward the line of carriages that would take the wedding guests the short distance to the chapel.
Four of her five brothers stood in a line waiting for her. Four sets of broad shoulders and dark hair standing like centaurs in a line.
Her surly guardians.
Rush came first, the second oldest. His hair was shorn close, his expression ever serious as he watched her move toward them.
Triston was next, his overlong hair brushing his ears and collars, his expression clearly revealing his feelings about weddings, as surely as if he was muttering the words “Why would anyone wish to wed?”
Gris next to Tris, his ever-ready mysterious smile playing at his lips. It wasn’t that he was happier than their other brothers. It was more that he caught people off guard with his ease. They were never prepared when he struck.
And there was Fulton. The youngest, he was also the wildest, forever in trouble. Fighting, gaming, generally spreading mayhem wherever he went.
He was the most heavily muscled of all her brothers, well, maybe besides Triston, and she knew that he spent a great deal of time hauling crates, claiming that the exercise kept him out of trouble. She had to shake her head, trying to imagine Fulton behaving worse than he already did.
Her fifth brother, Ace, was the eldest, the new marquess, and the man who held them all together. Without him, Rush claimed that Fulton would be head first in a gutter. Mirabelle wasn’t certain about that, but she did know how hard Ace worked for their family. Which is why he deserved to marry a woman as sweet and wonderful as Emily.
Ace was nowhere to be seen now, likely he’d already gone to the chapel to do some last-minute preparations before the ceremony.
Her sister, Anna, stepped up next to her, linking her arm with Mirabelle’s. “Isn’t this exciting? A wedding!”
Mirabelle gave her younger sister’s hand a pat, Anna’s blond hair shining in the sun. It was exciting. “Our brothers don’t look all that thrilled.”
Anna giggled. “Why do men think it’s their job to be grumpy about everything? What could be more exciting than finding love?”
Mirabelle’s mouth twitched with an answer that she didn’t speak. She wasn’t all that interested in marriage either.
Someday she would marry. But first, she fully intended to become a jewel of the ton. It was the secret she kept locked in her heart and the one she knew her family would vehemently disapprove of if they found out.
Her brothers liked being on the outside. They thrived upon the position, in fact. But they did not have to face the insidious yet subtle rejections of upper-class ladies. And she’d never tell them about what it was like to be looked down upon like that. It was too mortifying and besides, they’d only tell her to fight, not understanding that wasn’t how women operated. At least not these women.
“What took you so long?” Fulton grunted, cracking his knuckles as she and Anna approached.
Neither of them were the least bit put out by his tone, his look of irritation, or his ominous cracking. They knew better. All of their brothers were intent upon their sister’s well-being.
