Willa Reverly was blessedly thankful for the knock on her bedroom door.

“Miss Willa, the Countess of Dewsberry is here to see you,” Annie, her Irish maid, said through the door.

“Bring her up immediately,” Willa said, rising from her desk and the stack of papers she’d been staring at for hours in a vain attempt to make sense of her life now that she’d ruined it. For all her intentions, she’d written two things. The first had been the early morning message to Camberly ending her betrothal. The second was her desperate plea thirty minutes ago to her dear friend Cassandra, begging her to come “at once or I shall go quite mad. ”

“And have the tray of cakes I ordered brought up,” Willa informed the door. “I want cake.”

Because cake always made things better. Or, at least, cake made her feel better.

Willa crossed over to the looking glass. She had managed to dress. Annie would never let her go a day without being perfectly attired. However, she wasn’t at her best. She pinched her cheeks, trying to put color in them, and pushed in the pins that had come loose from her heavy hair that had been twisted into a coil at the base of her neck. That was when she noticed she had ink stains on her fingers from her two letters and hours of toying with her pen trying to decide what to write.

She hurried to the washstand to scrub them off.

Her bedroom was as opulent as any room in a palace. Thick carpets covered the floor. The drapes were made of the finest stuff in blues and greens. It was a restful room and one that Willa, Cassandra, and their other friend, Leonie, had enjoyed over the years when they’d gathered to hash out the ball the night before or to complain when parents were being unrealistic in their expectations.

One of their chief frustrations had been being dubbed the Spinster Heiresses by the gossips. Was it their fault their fathers had enough power and wealth to demand only the best, titled husbands for their daughters? Husbands meeting their demanding standards weren’t just ripe for the plucking. It took time and effort to attract such attention. Consequently, the friends had lingered on the Marriage Market for three long, interminable seasons. Hence, the nickname Spinster Heiresses.

In truth, each father had turned down numerous offers for his daughter’s hand because they could afford to do so. Leonie’s father had been a rich nabob. Cassandra had been the heir to the Bingham fortune. Willa, whose father was the financier Leland Reverly, was the richest of them all and her parents’ only child.

Now Leonie and Cassandra were both married and, surprisingly—and of interest to Willa—happily so. They loved and respected the men who were their husbands. That had given her hope for her own happiness—until the Duke of Camberly had destroyed all her romantic notions.

The irony was he had been considered the prize of the Season. Every marriageable young woman had wanted him. They had stalked him. Laid traps for him. Flirted and engaged him in every way possible.

And Willa had caught him.

Except, this morning, she had thrown Camberly back—

There was another knock. Willa flew to the door and threw it open. Cassandra was there, looking golden and radiant.

The two friends were a study in contrasts. Most men had to look up to Cassandra to meet her eye, and she was as fair as a field of grain.

Willa, who was dressed in a gown of the palest rose edged in finely fashioned lace, and shoes with the slightest hint of a heel, feared there were hitching posts taller than she. She could claim to be five feet if she held her head up really high, and wore small heels.

Her hair was a rich, dark brown, and so heavy and weighty, it was the bane of her existence. She spent hours brushing and braiding and it took as many as fifty pins to style. She dearly wanted to crop it short in the latest fashion, but her father refused to let her cut so much as an inch off.

And what her father wanted, the household, including Willa, was expected to obey.

“I’m thankful you’ve come,” she told Cassandra as she pulled her into the room. Annie and a footman followed with a tray of cakes and strongly brewed tea and milk.

“Willa, what is it? Your letter—” Cassandra started before Willa warned her to silence with a finger up to her lips. Cassandra immediately stopped speaking, her blue eyes a bit surprised and confused that this would be one of those conversations.

In the past, Willa had been the one her friends confided in. She rarely had secrets . . . but she had one now. Except her secret would not be kept quiet for long. Too soon the world would know what she’d done.

The two friends awkwardly waited for the servants to finish their duties and leave.

The moment the door shut, Cassandra demanded, “What has happened? Your letter said you needed me for the ‘direst’ of reasons.”

“Sit here,” Willa said, directing her to the pair of chairs before the cold hearth. The refreshments were on a table between them. “Are you feeling well?”

Cassandra had shared only yesterday that she believed she was with child. The only other person she’d told besides Willa was her husband, Soren, because that was how close the two friends were.

“I’m fine. I barely show at all, and thankfully so. I would not wish to miss celebrating your marriage with you.” Unlike Leonie, who was advanced enough in her pregnancy that she’d been advised not to travel.

“I would not have noticed if you hadn’t told me.” Willa picked up a small footstool and started to place it under Cassandra’s feet, until she realized her friend had no trouble reaching the floor, unlike her.

Nor was Cassandra to be put off. She caught Willa’s arm and gently tugged it for her attention. “What is it? Why did you summon me so urgently?”

Willa slowly stood, the footstool and cake tray forgotten.

“I have broken my betrothal to the Duke of Camberly.”

Cassandra stared as if she had spoken gibberish. And then she sat back in the chair, her head tilting. “Beg pardon? Did you say you ended the betrothal? The one where you are having the wedding tomorrow ?”

Willa nodded.

“The betrothal ,” Cassandra pressed as if still uncertain she understood, “that has your servants rushing around preparing for a wedding breakfast? An event that will be the talk of London? The whole reason Soren and I ventured from Cornwall?”

Biting her bottom lip, Willa nodded again before whispering, “Yes, that one.” She admitted, “I’ve broken it. I’m done.” And with those last words came a heady rush of both amazement at her audacity and pride in herself.

“Lord, that feels so good to say,” Willa declared. “I’ve sent him packing. I’m finished with him. I’m free .” She spread her arms wide to declare to the room as a whole, “I will not be marrying Camberly, who is too full of his own consequence to give me any of his important time. I’ve shown him what’s what.”

However, her friend’s response was not as Willa had hoped. Cassandra’s mouth opened, but she appeared too stunned to speak.

Willa filled the void, albeit with less exuberance than her previous declaration. “I know giving the duke the boot is completely out of character for me. I almost can’t believe I’ve been so daring. I’ve surprised myself. Why, I’m almost as strong-willed and unpredictable as you or Leonie.”

And then, Cassandra found her voice. She sat forward in the chair. “You are not serious? Please tell me you are not serious?”

“But I am. I had a messenger deliver the letter this very morning. There will be no wedding.”

“No wedding? On the morrow? Oh, Willa. Willa, Willa, Willa .  . . ” Cassandra stood, her movement so abrupt, she almost knocked over the table with its cake and teapot. She caught the table before it could fall, steadied it, and then sat back down. “You jilted a duke? A day before you are to marry him?”

Annoyed by Cassandra’s reaction, Willa said primly, “That is one way of seeing it.”

“I believe that is the only way of seeing it. And your father approved of this?”

Willa took the chair opposite Cassandra’s. She folded her hands in her lap, squared her shoulders, and admitted, “I haven’t told Father yet. I will,” she hurried to add. “But, frankly, I’m a bit surprised by your reaction.”

“I’m definitely stunned by your actions.”

“You make it sound terrible. I’m not ‘jilting’ him. I just released him.”

“Released, jilted. They are both not good words. At least, that is the way the world will see it. Camberly asked you to marry him and you said—”

Willa cut her off with an impatient noise. “Camberly never actually asked me for my hand. He talked to Father, and Father accepted for me. I wasn’t even consulted.”

Cassandra leaned forward. “Did you not attend your betrothal party? The one with two hundred in attendance? Soren and I heard about it even in the wilds of Cornwall.”

“I was there.”

“Willa, why did you not speak up then if you didn’t wish to marry him?”

There was the crux of the matter.

“You know how it is, Cassandra. It was flattering to receive an offer from the man all the other debutantes wanted. And the marriage pleased Father. I was hoping for the best.”

“He will not be pleased when he hears this news.”

Cassandra was right.

“I know it is hard to speak up, but, Willa, by agreeing to the betrothal, you gave your word, your family’s solemn promise.”

“Except Camberly is nothing like the man I believed him to be.”

“What do you mean?”

Willa stood. She crossed over to the chest of drawers and opened the top one. From beneath some folded clothes, she took out a slender book and walked back to her friend.

“A book, Willa?” Cassandra half laughed her surprise. “You were not much of a reader.”

“I’m not illiterate. I just don’t carry on about them the way you do. However, this one touched me. It captured my imagination.”

Cassandra reached to take the book. “I know you are not illiterate,” she said as if in apology and opened to the title page, but then words failed her. Her expression turned incredulous. She looked up. “This is Camberly’s book of poems. You found it.”

When the new Duke of Camberly had first been introduced to London, everyone had scrambled to find a copy of Love Fulfilled written by Matthew Addison. He’d penned the poems when he was in university and a nobody. Consequently, very few volumes had been published.

However, once he’d been named duke, there hadn’t been a woman in London who hadn’t wanted to read it. The city had been full of rumors of how the poems had laid bare the young and handsome Camberly’s heart.

Cassandra reverently turned the pages. “I tried everything to find it. How did you manage?”

“Father’s money.” Willa took her seat, crossing her arms tightly against her waist. She sat on the edge so her feet touched the floor. “That book is why I agreed to marry Camberly. I mean, he called upon me perhaps twice before he and Father agreed to a marriage. It was all very quick. However, I had read those poems, and for the first time, someone’s words spoke to me. There is so much kindness and compassion in them. He talks about how true, everlasting love is a haven in life. And a man in love owes his beloved his honesty, loyalty, fidelity. I believed Camberly the man was the same as Camberly the poet.”

“He must be,” Cassandra answered soberly. “He wrote them.”

“He couldn’t have,” Willa responded. “I’ll never believe it. The duke is nothing like the poet. And I expected you to be more understanding.”

Cassandra closed the book. “I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t give you my honest advice. Willa, what you have done is more than making your father angry—”

“Oh, he will be furious.” Willa was not looking forward to that conversation. She tapped her toe impatiently.

“As he should be. This path you are taking will ruin you. It won’t be terribly kind to Camberly, either. And it doesn’t make sense because, let us be fair, you, Leonie, and I would have done anything to land such a catch only months ago. You won him. You will be his duchess .”

Willa untightened her arms and aimed a punctuating finger at the book. “I don’t want to be a duchess. What I wanted was the man who wrote that poetry. That man is attentive and kind. He respects women. He values the people in his life. Camberly himself has proven he is not that good of a catch.”

Cassandra began ticking off the reasons she was wrong. “He has an enviable title—”

“There are better titles,” Willa muttered. She reached for an iced cake off the tray. Eating cake always calmed her nerves.

“He is handsome—”

“I can’t quibble over his looks. He turns female heads wherever he goes. I haven’t met one yet who didn’t ogle him.”

“You are jealous,” Cassandra noted, as if it was a mark in his favor.

“I am not,” Willa insisted. “Women can stare at him all they wish.”

“Some have done more than stare.”

“You are speaking of Lady Bainhurst.” Willa’s appetite left her. She set the cake back on the tray. “I’m not pleased about that.”

“I don’t blame you. He was besotted with her. But I was under the impression she gave him his marching orders weeks before your betrothal. Is he still trailing after her?”

“I don’t know. Her name was linked with someone else’s, but they say her husband is watching her closely. Father insisted on inviting them to the wedding breakfast. He adores currying favor wherever he can.”

“Lord Bainhurst is quite powerful, but still, to have her here on your wedding day?”

“I know.” Willa shrugged her opinion. “Thankfully, they are out of town and not scheduled to return.”

“Then that means Camberly hasn’t been around Letty.”

“I don’t know if he has or not.” The subject made her physically ill. Cassandra had set the book on the table by the tray. Willa had a strong desire to knock it to the floor. She stared at the cover as she said, “Letty is married. An honorable man respects those boundaries. I find it disgraceful. Disgusting, actually. If I hadn’t read those poems, I would have seen Camberly sooner for the man he is.”

Cassandra sat quiet.

Willa met her eye. “I don’t want to marry someone like my father. He disrespects my mother with the women he keeps. Please tell me Soren does not do this. Would you tolerate it if he did?”

“I would skewer him on a spit and roast him alive if I caught him behaving like your father.”

Willa nodded. “I fear I’d do the same thing. You worry that I’m ruining my reputation with this decision. I believe I’m rescuing myself from being charged with husband skewering.”

“The law does frown on it,” Cassandra had to agree with a smile.

“Pity,” Willa answered. “I think my mother would have enjoyed skewering my father years ago. Now she just ignores him. After all, it is what is expected, but her life seems so empty.”

“Many women take on their own lovers.”

“You and I have always agreed that it seems a shabby way to live.”

Cassandra nodded and returned to her list. “Finally, I must remind you that the duke is young. Young, titled, and very, very handsome.”

“And broke. You forgot he barely has a shilling to spare.”

“Yes, but you have plenty, and your father is determined to use his money and his power to marry you to a title.” Almost gently, she pointed out, “He will marry you off, you know, one way or the other. With or without your permission. You could find yourself with worse than Camberly. You could be married to the Marquis of Ellmore who is in his dotage and impossibly crotchety. I can’t imagine seeing him naked.”

Willa’s mind revolted at the image as well.

“Or to the Viscount Longford, who I hear is looking for a mother for his twelve children. They also say he is anxious to breed an even twenty.” Her voice dropped to a whisper to add, “His first and second wives died in childbirth, poor women.”

Children were an uncomfortable topic for Willa. Last week, she’d overheard her mother’s friends speculating about whether a woman as petite as Willa could successfully bear the child of a man as big as Camberly. Their prognosis, and the stories they had shared with one another, had been alarming.

And it was a cruel way to die.

However, Cassandra’s reminder that her father would marry her off was sobering.

Leland Reverly never left an asset untapped. A daughter was definitely to be used for his advantage.

Willa shifted in her chair. “Do you know what I’ve been doing since I sent that message to Camberly this morning? I’ve been trying to consider what I wish to do with my life. I mean, ever since I can remember, my sole purpose has been, as you point out, to marry well. But shouldn’t there be something more in life?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are starting a school. You’ve always had a dream to create new ideas and now you are doing it.”

“But that is just the person I am.”

“Did you know Leonie is becoming an authority on roses? Lady Vickery was telling me she’d sent a cutting of one of her prized bushes to Leonie.”

“She’s written about her interests in her letters to me,” Cassandra answered.

“You both have purpose. You are clever and you do meaningful things. What can I do?”

“You are very good at needlework. Far better than I am.”

“Ah, I can darn socks.”

“Don’t mock it. Sock darning is an important skill for most of us.”

“But not a rich man’s daughter.” Willa shrugged. “Servants have always taken care of matters for me.”

“Interests will come to you,” Cassandra said soothingly, “once you start living your life.”

“I don’t know if that is true. I have a deep fear that there is nothing of substance about me. I spent most of this day trying to imagine what I could devote myself to.”

“And what did you decide?”

“Nothing,” Willa answered. “The paper on my desk is blank. It is as if I can define myself only in terms of attracting a husband. It is all that has ever been asked of me. I offer nothing else to the world.”

“You are being too hard on yourself.”

“Perhaps I haven’t been hard enough.”

Cassandra leaned forward, reaching a hand out to her. “Willa, you are a strong, vibrant woman. You will find your meaning in time.”

Willa wasn’t certain. “If I don’t I shall be like Kitty Pakenham.”

Cassandra wrinkled her forehead. “Kitty Pakenham? Isn’t she the General Lord Wellington’s wife?”

“Finally! He’d promised himself to her ten years before he actually showed up to marry her. She said he asked and then he disappeared and left her alone. For ten years,” Willa had to repeat.

“Wellington didn’t really disappear,” Cassandra said reasonably. “Wasn’t he in the military all that time? He was quite busy fighting for our king. She knew where he was.”

“If he was going to go dashing off, he shouldn’t have extracted a promise of marriage from Kitty, leaving her to wait . I swear, men have all the fun.”

“He was shot at, and war is ghastly.”

Willa shook her head. “So is standing around ballrooms waiting for someone who you want to believe cares about you to put in an appearance. And Wellington hasn’t been completely alone while he’s been shot at. You know his reputation—even married.”

“He is not the most attentive of husbands.”

“Exactly. Just like my father and so many others. The men go off into life while the women . . . wait. And for what? Death?”

“You are being a bit dramatic,” Cassandra warned.

Willa came to her feet. Pent-up frustration moved her to pace the room. It was also a blessing to finally be able to speak her mind to someone she trusted. She had her own list to tick off. “Camberly left right after our betrothal ball. It was as if the clock chimed midnight and he vanished. That was months ago, and it was the last time I saw him. We danced three times, he walked me around the garden, and then he was gone. He didn’t even say good-bye. He just disappeared and then word comes to me that he is at Mayfield.”

“Has he at least written?”

“No, not even to tell me he is alive. I feel like a dairy cow he has purchased. He has contracted a sale with my father and plans on showing up tomorrow to milk me. One doesn’t write letters to dairy cows.”

Cassandra choked back laughter. “That is a terrible image.”

“A humbling one.”

“It is, and surprising. Matthew Addison is one of my husband’s friends. Soren speaks highly of him. I can’t believe he’d be so . . .” She paused as if searching for a word.

Willa supplied one. “Thick?”

“I was going to say absent.”

“Yes, he has definitely been that. Then my path crossed Lady Wellington’s. Kitty saw me wandering around ballrooms alone and took pity on me. She said I reminded her so much of herself.”

“Why were you wandering?”

“Because I don’t fit in anywhere. Usually, once one is promised, you attend events with your intended. I was alone. Obviously alone. I am no longer one of the debutantes. I have my duke. If I was around them for the simplest of reasons, their mothers hissed at me like old geese, as if I will chase away prospects for their daughters. I can’t join the matrons. All they do is gossip and discuss their children and their husbands. Oh, Lord, how they carry on.”

“There are other women at these events than in those two groups.”

“A single woman cannot roam around the card room.”

“Isn’t your mother usually there?”

“You know how she is with her friends. She has also made it clear that now is her time. She no longer needs to chaperone me the way she did before I was promised. According to her, she’s done her part—I’ve landed a husband.” Willa’s mother was not the doting sort. “And you know Father. Always too busy and important for mere ballroom floors.”

No, he saved the best of himself for his mistresses, something Willa had promised herself she would never tolerate. Especially after witnessing how happy Cassandra and Leonie were with men who valued them . . .

And yes, Camberly’s infatuation with the adulterous Lady Bainhurst had been a strong mark against him.

It still was.

“But certainly, you have friends,” Cassandra protested.

“I don’t. You and Leonie were my friends. The others . . . ? Even Lady Bettina distances herself from me now that I am to be married to a man she has let everyone know she’d wanted. She has said some ugly things.”

“I don’t doubt it. She was always whispering about us.”

“Until we brought her into the game,” Willa reminded Cassandra. “The other evening, she informed me I shouldn’t even be seen in Society without the duke since I had ‘won’ him.”

The game had been a way for Willa and her friends to save themselves from boredom and to make light of the tedium of courting. Leonie had devised it. A suitable male of their choosing was singled out as the prize for the Season, and points could be earned for different actions of successful flirting. Being introduced to the gentleman was a point. Being asked to dance, three points.

Cassandra smiled ruefully at the memory. “You are right. She was eager to play, especially at flirting with Camberly. As I remember, you scored the highest points the year before with Lord Stokes. He was anxious to marry you.”

“Until his mother caught wind of his plans. His family didn’t approve of my family, no matter how much money Father has. However, Stokes was nice man.”

“He was a bore, Willa.”

“Very well, he was a nice bore. But he did pay attention to me.”

“I remember you hiding from him once you realized how serious he was. Boring is boring,” Cassandra assured her. “I’ll also remind you that you won this season’s game, too. You do have Camberly—”

“Did ,” Willa emphasized, wanting there to be no doubt. “I have thrown him back, and I refuse to be sorry. It is the most liberating decision I’ve ever made in my life.”

Or so she hoped. In truth, Cassandra’s objections were giving her second thoughts.

“Society will not take kindly to your jilting Camberly, Willa,” Cassandra warned, her voice commiserating. “You might be ostracized.”

“Better to be ostracized than ignored.”

“They are the same thing,” her bookish friend pointed out.

“Oh, no, they are not. Being ignored is much worse. It means I don’t matter. And I want to matter. I want to be important to someone, just as you are important to Soren.”

“It might be hard to find a husband after basically leaving one at the altar.”

“It might even be impossible. Father could even cut me off. Then I would have to darn my own socks. But I refuse to settle. I want what you and Leonie have found. I want a husband who doesn’t mind my shortcomings.” Something her father did not offer her mother. He was always picking at her perceived flaws. “I want a husband who will be my friend—”

“Yes, that is very important,” Cassandra agreed.

“And I don’t want to be lonely, not in my marriage. You know, Father treats me like a princess in that he is willing to buy anything I desire, and yet, since you and Leonie left London, most of my conversations are with the servants. This morning, I woke very early and realized I can’t go through with this marriage. I don’t wish to continue living this same life. I want to matter.”

“Then you had best talk to your father and tell him what you’ve done.”

Yes, there was that. “I will . . . when the moment is right.”

“You exchange vows on the morrow,” Cassandra said, as if prodding Willa’s memory. “The house will be full of guests. The moment is now.”

“We can still have the party . . .” Willa suggested meekly.

“Or Soren and I can have a coach waiting out front for when you tell your father and the roof explodes with his fury. We will whisk you away to Cornwall with us and you won’t have to face the scandal.”

The scandal . “Yes, there will be one.”

“It is the price you will have to pay,” Cassandra said.

“Mother will not be happy, either.” Her parents would punish her for her defiance, and yet, Willa knew she would not back down. She couldn’t—

A knock interrupted them. Annie’s lilting accent said through the door, “Excuse me, Miss Willa, but you have a visitor. The Duke of Camberly requests a moment of your time.”

The Duke of Camberly?

The title seemed to form in the air between Willa and the door. She rounded on Cassandra. “He’s here? ”

“Of course. After receiving your letter, I’m certain he will want answers. And, to be honest, you owe him an explanation. It is only right. Besides, you did wish his attention.”

“I wished it two weeks ago.”

“Willa?” Cassandra said patiently, her voice laced with the wisdom of experience. “Men rarely ever do what you wish, or expect.”