I paced the sitting room of Priscilla’s suite chewing on my thumbnail. My stomach was a riot of butterflies and my mind churned with misgivings. When Piérre had pulled me aside last night after dinner, I thought he might have been asking me about Priscilla, but he completely surprised me by asking me to go to tonight’s reception with him.

I asked him if it was so he could quiz me about getting Priscilla back, because I knew that that was the reason Papa had brought him here, but he said no. He said that he realised Priscilla was not the woman for him. That was a surprise. Priscilla had always been the perfect one, the perfect, well-bred Lady with all the correct manners and behaviour. She had been trained practically from the cradle to be Piérre’s wife and as far as I knew Papa still expected her to go through with it, regardless of what she wanted.

But if Piérre didn't want the marriage to go ahead either, then Papa could hardly force them.

I'd asked him about that, about the agreement he had with Papa and he shrugged and smiled that devastating smile he had and told me that the agreement still stood only his affections had changed.

Then he kissed me.

He was a good kisser, not that I was experienced, but I knew from the moment his lips met mine that he knew what he was doing. Louis had been the only boy that I had kissed, so I didn't have much to compare it with, and it wasn't really much of a kiss, just a meeting of lips and a promise for more. Before I could even comprehend what was happening, it was over and he was gone.

Now I was waiting for him to come and get me to escort me down to the ballroom. I was worried about how Papa would take it, but thought that he wouldn't much mind the match and it fulfilled his agreement with Piérre. And then there was Priscilla. I knew she didn't want Piérre, but I also didn’t think she'd be too impressed with me having him either. And, of course, there was Louis. We were friends, maybe more than friends, but he didn't have a title and his future was already set in stone, he was to take over from his brother, The Lord Chancellor, after his term of apprenticeship. Marrying Piérre would make me a Baroness, with my own title, but marrying Louis (not that he had hinted at anything of the sort) would just make me a wife. I'd get to go to all the lavish parties at the Palace and mix with all the titled Peers, but I wouldn't be titled myself and I wouldn't have a home or estate of my own. We would live here in the Palace, and as lovely as that was, it wasn't quite the same.

It was, perhaps, shallow of me to choose a man based only on his wealth and title, but I was the younger sister and, although Priscilla carried the title of Lady, I never would unless I married into it. I came with a decent dowry and, according to Piérre, the settlement had already been agreed upon and wouldn't change regardless of who he married, but money couldn't buy me a coronet and that was what I wanted above all else. It wasn't fair that Priscilla got to carry the title and I did not. It was an absolutely beastly accident of birth. Priscilla didn't even care about the title and couldn't care less about being a baroness, although in point of fact, the title she held now was above a baroness and if she married Piérre she would have two titles. And didn't that just rub me the wrong way! How unfair that she got to carry two titles while I got none.

She didn't deserve Piérre. She didn't want him anyway so she shouldn't care whether I accepted his offer or not. I knew that she would, though. She was always trying to tell me how to live my life, trying to make me into a mini-me of her and I was sick of it.

I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. The misgivings that had plagued me since I accepted Piérre’s invitation fled in the face of my righteous anger towards my meddling sister. It was about time that she understood that I was all grown up now and that I could make my own decisions. She was not my mother and she had no authority over me to decide who I married.

A knock at the door startled me out of my internal monologue. I smoothed the front of my silk dress and nodded to one of the maids to open the door. Pierre stepped across the threshold looking dashing in his tails, white tie and sash. The star of his barony shone brightly against the dark blue of his sash and he smiled at me in a way that made my knees weak.

“Miss Beaumonde,” he said with a smart bow, his rich tenor rolling over me like silk.

“Baron Romanov,” I replied, curtsying.

He handed me up out of my curtsy and lifted my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles. It was a feather-light touch, but it sent a bolt of electricity through me. I felt my cheeks heat in a blush and lowered my eyes so he wouldn't see my naïveté.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes, my Lord,” I replied as he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led me from the room.

I felt so grown up and I stood tall and regal as people took notice of us. I'd had fun with Louis, but he was just a boy compared to Piérre. Piérre was a man, a real man where Louis was still just play acting as one. I was making the right decision to be with him, I knew I was and I couldn't wait for everyone to see us together.

Dom cut a fine figure as he strode across the ballroom. His tux was immaculately cut, the trousers skimming his long, thick legs, his tailed jacket snug across his shoulders. His crisp, white shirt and waistcoat stark against the darkness of his suit and his white cravat perfectly tied and secured with a gleaming gold pin. The man looked good in his formal attire, well, if I was honest, he looked good in anything, but dressed up? It was almost impossible to tear my eyes away from him.

“Who’s caught your eye?” Savannah asked, sidling up to me and looking in the same direction.

“Nobody,” I replied and looked away to adjust the skirt of my gown.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “The Lord Chancellor is one delicious looking man. I don't know how you work with him all day and actually get any work done.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You mean you don't find him distracting? You don't get caught up in those big green eyes of his and wonder what it would be like to run your hand through those thick, dark locks?”

I nudged her shoulder and laughed. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Seriously,” I said, desperate to convince her, “We hardly even work together, we mostly communicate via email.”

“So that wasn't you I saw coming home with him the other night?”

“Um…”

“And the lunch trolley that Chef prepared for him had nothing to do with you?”

“Well…”

Savannah laughed and knocked me gently with her elbow, “I'm just kidding. You and the Lord Chancellor have been at each other's throats from the moment you set eyes on each other. I know you'd have nothing to do with him outside of work. He’s so stuck up and proper all the time anyway, I'm sure you'd be bored in two seconds flat if you spent more than five minutes in his company outside of what you are required to spend with him now.”

I smiled benignly and clamped down on the reply that wanted to burst from my throat. I had complained to Savannah and the other girls about Dom so many times that I doubt they would believe my change of heart towards him. That didn't stop the desire to defend him, to explain that he wasn't as horrid as I'd made him out to be. But I didn't say anything, Savannah didn't need to know my changed feelings towards the Lord Chancellor, it wasn't going to go anywhere anyway, so why facilitate gossip?

“And who is that delicious looking dish on the arm of your sister?” Savannah asked.

I followed her gaze and felt my heart drop into my stomach as I recognised my sister’s escort. Piérre.

“That's Baron Piérre Romanov,” I said dully.

“He's a nice bit of eye candy to add to the scenery, someone new for us all to fawn over. These things get so dull with the same faces to look at all the time.”

“Excuse me, Savannah,” I said coolly, “I need to check on something.”

I walked away from her in a daze, grabbing a glass of sparkling wine from the nearest waiter and swallowing it in three gulps. I followed my sister and her companion, hoping to snag her away from him to find out what the hell was going on. I exchanged my empty glass for a full one and drank it down, not caring that I hadn't eaten anything since lunch, I was too distracted by the sight of my sister in the clutches of that beast.

How dare he put his hands on her, she was barely old enough to attend a ball such as this and Piérre was far too experienced with women for her to handle. He would have her compromised and ruined before she even knew what was happening and there was no way I was going to stand by and let him shame my family, not after the humiliation we had already endured at his hands.

“Bianca,” I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from him.

He turned to look at me and lifted one side of his mouth in an arrogant smirk.

“Hey,” Bianca said, pulling her arm out of my grip, “What do you think you're doing.”

“What do you think you're doing, here with a snake like him?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “How dare you speak about my date like that. How dare you speak to me at all in that tone of voice. You are not my mother, Katerina,” she hissed at me.

I caught the intrigued looks of those around us who were pretending not to listen but were hanging on every word.

“There're things you don't know, things—”

“I don't care,” Bianca said, “Leave me alone.”

I turned my attention to Piérre who was engaged in a conversation with the Lord of some duchy or other.

“Lord Romanov, a word?”

He excused himself with a polite now and turned to me. Bianca crossed her arms in a huff and he smiled at her.

“Why don't you go and get us a couple of glasses of that lovely claret, ma cherie,” he said to her. She looked at him uncertainly and then nodded and turned away, heading for the bar.

“Outside,” I said, leading the way across the ballroom and out the French doors onto the patio. As soon as we were out of earshot I rounded on him.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing with my sister?”

He adjusted his cuffs nonchalantly and smiled politely. “Your father and I have an agreement. If you are not willing to fulfil it, your sister is.”

“There is no way my father would give his precious Bianca to you.”

“As I said, we have an agreement, a binding contract. It will be fulfilled one way or another.”

“You can't really believe that a marriage contract will hold up in court. This is not the dark ages and my sister and I are not chattel that can be bought and sold and haggled over.”

“Nevertheless, we do have a contract and whether or not a magistrate will enforce it is not the point. The point is your father and I had a gentleman’s agreement and a man’s word is his bond. What do you think would happen to your father’s reputation if he went back on his word?”

“This is ridiculous! Nobody would care! All of that nonsense went out a century ago.”

He didn't argue with me, just gave me that irritating, sardonic smile of his and turned away, walking back into the ball and leaving me to stare after him gaping like a fish out of water.

I'd watched her come in with her so-called ‘old family friend’ and they looked a lot more cosy than just friends. She gazed up at him adoringly and he paid her little mind, treating her like nothing more than a pretty bauble attached to his sleeve. She gripped his arm possessively and indiscreetly as if she wanted everyone to know that they were here together.

I grabbed a drink from a passing waiter and slumped in my chair as my eyes tracked their progress around the room. Bianca hadn't even looked for me, not once. Her eyes had been trained only on the Baron even though he seemed to completely ignore her presence. He was much too busy networking with the foreign heads of state and other important guests to give her the attention she deserved.

She was a vision in her gown of the palest pink. It was a classic style with a full skirt and square neckline and made her look not unlike a fairytale princess. Her titian locks were swept up in a complicated up-do and glittered with strategically placed crystals.

I downed the drink in my hand and looked around for another. She had stood me up last night for our dinner date and now she was here with another man, a man who was supposedly betrothed to her sister. I looked around for Priscilla, but she wasn't anywhere to be found and it only made my bad mood worse.

Oh, look, he was finally addressing her. She nodded to him and then disentangled herself from his arm and headed towards the bar. I got up and followed her through the crowd, coming up behind her as she ordered drinks for herself and the Baron.

“Bianca,” I said and she spun around, her cheeks turning red when she saw me.

“Louis,” she said, not meeting my eyes and looking around furtively.

“You're here with him?”

“I…ah, well that is to say—”

“Whatever,” I said and turned to walk away.

She grabbed my sleeve and I stopped, but didn't turn around.

“I'm sorry Louis, I didn't mean to hurt you.”

I shrugged out of her grasp and turned to regard her coolly. “Hurt me?” I asked in my haughtiest voice and added a snort of derision for good measure. “Don't be daft. I do however find it the height of bad manners to say you will meet one gentleman and then stand him up for another one. You couldn't have sent a note to inform me that you had changed your mind?”

Her cheeks burned scarlet and she looked down. “I am sorry Louis,” she mumbled.

“Good evening,” I said with a smart bow and strode away, my head held high.

What I needed now was a drink and a distraction. I had been getting interested glances from many a pretty young thing tonight and it was just what I needed to rid myself of the aftermath of Bianca.

“Louis.”

I stopped and turned towards my brother’s voice.

“Dom,” I said as I relieved a passing waiter of a glass of wine.

“Have you seen Priscilla anywhere?”

“No,” I replied and then swallowed the fizzy and far too sweet drink in my hand.

“What's gotten into you? You look like you just lost your best friend.”

“Not at all,” I replied and bared my teeth at him in a semblance of a grin, “Just surveying the possibilities.”

“Possibilities? What about Bianca? Weren't you supposed to meet her here? Wasn't I meant to distract Priscilla so that you could court your young lady?”

“It appears the young lady’s affections lie elsewhere. Besides, I was tiring of her anyway.”

“You were tiring of her? You've barely spent any time together and I thought this was your great love.”

“Merely a passing attraction that has now, well, passed.”

Dom raised an eyebrow at me sceptically. “Has the attraction passed or do you find yourself in competition with another?”

I nodded in the direction of Bianca and the Baron. “It appears the lady in question has set her sights on a bigger fish.”

Dom swore under his breath. “I do not like that man.”

“You've met him?”

“Indeed, at the last reception. He pointed out his betrothed and warned me off. So why the devil is he with your Bianca?”

“She’s not my Bianca and I was under the impression that the woman in question had called off their engagement.”

“Is that so? Well good for her, nobody should be forced to marry under such a draconian agreement.”

“Priscilla told you about it?”

“Priscilla? No, not at all. The Baron informed me of his intent to collect on the agreement he made with the lady’s father. But enough about him, what are you going to do about Bianca?”

“Do? Why should I do anything? She's obviously decided to set her sights higher. He is a Baron after all, what do I have to compare?”

“Do you like the girl, Louis?”

I nodded mournfully.

“Then don't give up so easily. In fact look at her, she looks entirely bored out of her brain.”

I looked over towards Bianca who was eyeing the dance floor with longing. The Baron was far too engrossed in his conversation with some ambassador or other to take any notice of her desire to dance.

“Go and ask her to dance while I try and track down her suspiciously absent sister.”

He clapped me on the back as he moved off and I watched Bianca as she watched the dancers twirl around the floor. Would it be rude of me to ask her to dance while she was standing there with her arm through her date’s? Would she accept?

Before I could make my move, the Baron bowed to the ambassador and walked away, Bianca still attached to his arm and I lost sight of them in the crowd. I grabbed another glass of fizzy, sweet wine and swallowed it before stalking off in the opposite direction.