Lord Edward Kensington, Earl of Sterling, glared at the two men who’d barged into Miss Wickersham’s study. If not for the presence of the formidable headmistress of Talcott House, not to mention the pistol one of the men had pointed at him, he would have launched himself across the room at the dastardly scoundrels. The man who had insisted he would not leave without Hyacinth, in particular. Yes, Edward would greatly enjoy planting a facer on that man if the opportunity to do so presented itself. He clenched his fists in anticipation of inflicting violence.

He’d come here for an important purpose this morning—to marry Miss Hyacinth Heathrow himself—and he had no tolerance for interruptions. He had waited long enough to claim his bride, allowing Miss Wickersham ample time to determine whether or not he would make a suitable husband and papa to one of the little ladies of Talcott House. In the letters he’d exchanged with Miss Wickersham after writing to introduce himself and announce his interest in acquiring a bride from Talcott House, it hadn’t been long before the headmistress had written to say she had the perfect young lady in mind for him. However, for reasons unclear to him, even after matching him with the perfect young lady, Miss Wickersham had made him wait several months before their wedding, vaguely claiming Miss Heathrow was not quite prepared to leave her home but would be ready to be his wife and little girl soon, if he would only be patient.

Well, he had been patient enough, and it now appeared there was more to the picture.

Apparently, his bride-to-be had been called upon by this awful Lord Grayson person at least once. Clearly, the two of them had met at some point recently, and it irked Edward that Miss Wickersham had allowed such a thing to transpire. After all, the girl was betrothed to him. He’d recently sent a large amount of money to Talcott House, as was expected of any gentleman who wished to marry one of Miss Wickersham’s little ladies. He understood the money went to the upkeep of the house and its occupants, as the headmistress had made clear to him on more than one occasion, however, knowing that he had already paid what constituted a bride price for Miss Hyacinth “Cynny” Heathrow, he was furthermore infuriated that his betrothed had somehow received a gentleman caller.

“Lord Grayson, I thought I made it clear to you on your last unannounced visit that Talcott House is not a continuous open door for the whims of callers, regardless of their social rank.”

The tension in the room thickened as the man holding the pistol adjusted his aim directly at Edward’s face. Well, Edward wouldn’t mind planting a facer on this fellow, either, he thought with increasing annoyance as he imagined the man’s nose crunching under his flying fist. He didn’t think the man would actually shoot him, as he appeared to be dressed as a gentleman of a high station much like Edward himself, but Edward wisely remained still and hoped these two men decided their mission to Talcott House was futile.

“Give me the weapon.” Miss Wickersham moved in front of the gun-toting man and held her hand out, staring him down as if he were a naughty pupil. To Edward’s amusement, the man actually looked a bit embarrassed and reluctantly passed the headmistress his weapon after an encouraging nod from Lord Grayson, damn his eyes.

Miss Wickersham promptly locked the pistol in her desk, sticking the key in her pocket and then turning to glare at Lord Grayson. “I am available Thursday next at ten o’clock in the morning, I shall schedule an appointment for you at that time. As you can see, we here at Talcott House have urgent matters to resolve to which your presence is neither invited nor required.” The woman moved to escort the two intruders from her study, and Edward was relieved when Lord Grayson stepped toward the door. But the blasted man soon stopped and turned.

“No,” Lord Grayson said. “I am here for Miss Heathrow and I shall not leave without her.”

“I beg your pardon?” Edward took a step forward, his fists still clenched. “Have you gone mad? I am to marry the girl within the hour and I would thank you to leave the premises as Miss Wickersham has requested. Are you in the habit of causing disruption everywhere you go?” How dare the man think he could set claim to Edward’s betrothed? He doubted Miss Heathrow would want anything to do with such an ill-mannered clout of a man, least of all marry him, and Edward would not allow such an event to take place this morning.

At that moment, Edward thought he heard voices above his head, but he didn’t look up, not daring to take his eyes off Lord Grayson and the man’s over exuberant friend. The ceiling then made an odd creaking noise, but still Edward kept his gaze on the other two men.

“I believe perhaps I have gone mad,” Lord Grayson suddenly said, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair as a crazed gleam entered his eyes. The man looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. “What other explanation is there for this type of behavior? Regardless, I can think of no other and I must have the girl.”

Edward’s patience was quickly unraveling. He took another step forward. “That is all well and good, my lord, but she is to be Lady Kensington. My bride, not yours. The arrangements have been made. Money has changed hands and the vicar is on his way here. I am sure Miss Wickersham has other young ladies who will be acceptable to you, but you shall not have my bride.”

Lord Grayson stood taller and met Edward’s stare, his gaze taking on a pleading yet determined look that surprisingly made Edward feel somewhat sympathetic to his plight. The lovestruck man cleared his throat and said, “What makes you think that you are the proper gentleman to marry her? Have you spoken with her? Have you ever even seen her? Have you...”

The man continued on, speaking in rather poetic terms of how he cared for Miss Heathrow and would be a good papa to her, which only left Edward even more frustrated. It was not Edward’s fault he had not yet met his betrothed. He’d sought an arranged marriage for a reason—to forgo the social ceremonies that came with the traditional courting of a bride. Had this Lord Grayson indeed gone mad? How could he care for the girl so much that he would barge into a house uninvited and demand her hand in marriage? An odd tug of jealousy swept through Edward, because he had never known such feelings for a woman before and he was not sure if he ever would. He had planned to care for Miss Heathrow as a good husband and papa ought to care for a little bride, and he knew that in caring for her he would likely grow to feel true affection for her in due time. But this Grayson fellow was apparently madly in love with her already.

A knot twisted in Edward’s stomach. How could he compete with true love?

“It is true that I have not yet met her,” Edward finally admitted, “but that does not mean I am not suitable as a husband and papa for her. I at least do not storm into other people’s homes and disrupt social engagements, which is more than I can say for the likes of you, my lord.” He took another step toward Grayson, his irritation flaring hotter.

“Lord Grayson,” Miss Wickersham said, “Hyacinth has been promised to Lord Kensington, and, as he states, they are to be wed in just a few moments.”

“But until vows have been exchanged and the marriage license has been filed, the young lady is free to marry whomever she chooses, is she not?” It was the man who’d pointed a pistol at Edward’s head moments ago who spoke now, and though Edward would not admit it aloud, the man did have a point. How could Edward force this young lady to marry him if she instead wished to marry Lord Grayson? He realized, with a sinking heart, that indeed he could do no such thing. Damn and blast. He felt his carefully laid out plans to find a wife soon, start a family, and move on from the darkness in his past crumble around him.

“And how are we to know that marrying you is the young lady’s choice at all?” Edward found himself asking, though he despaired over hearing the truth from the lady herself when she finally arrived. What if Miss Heathrow entered the room, looked Edward apologetically in the eye, and declared her love for Lord Grayson?

Miss Wickersham rapped on her desk with a ruler. “All of the young ladies under my care are well aware that I am the one who makes the choice of spouse for them. I have seen to their care and done my utmost to decipher their personalities and make the best matches possible. All of my young ladies have had happy marriages and I have no reason to think that the union of Lord Kensington and Miss Heathrow will be anything other than blissful as well.”

Edward appreciated Miss Wickersham’s support at the moment, but he was still not happy she had apparently allowed Lord Grayson to call upon Miss Heathrow at some point under her roof. How could the woman permit the occurrence of such an improper and scandalous event? The thought of leaving Talcott House empty-handed, so to speak, prompted him to say, “In addition, my payment has been deposited and I refuse to accept a refund. Therefore the obligation is upon Miss Wickersham. If she fails to keep her agreement, I shall instruct my barrister to bring suit against her.”

Miss Wickersham spun on Edward with an angry look as she clutched the ruler in her hand. Her face reddened as she stared at him for a tense moment. “I beg your pardon, sir, but if you are under the impression that I am in the business of selling young ladies, then you are quite mistaken. While I appreciate your kind donation to Talcott House, it was a gift, not a purchase, and I will thank you to remember that.”

Before Edward could reply, Grayson shouted, “Whatever he has donated, I shall double it.”

“What?” Edward stared at the awful interloper. “You do not even know the amount.”

“Nor do I care. I must have her for my own.” Lord Grayson hastily pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, as well as a bag, and tossed them on the headmistress’s desk. Gold coins spilled out of the bag and over the polished wooden surface. “Now, bring Miss Heathrow here at once. And tell the vicar to hurry.”

Edward had heard enough. His fists still clenched, he bounded toward Lord Grayson. He had never considered himself a hotheaded sort of individual, and he had not been in an actual fight since his days as a young school boy, but he had no choice in the matter. When another man tries to steal your betrothed, one has no other option but to resort to violence.

But before Edward could reach Lord Grayson, there was a great explosion.

Or rather, the creaking ceiling gave way and crashed down upon them all.

Dust and pieces of wood fell to the floor—along with four squealing and gasping young ladies. Well, three of them were young, the other one, who had apparently landed on a chair and broken it, was a bit older than her three companions.

“Oh, Miss Wickersham,” the older girl said, “my apologies. I have broken the naughty chair.”

“Naughty chair?” Edward, along with Lord Grayson and his friend, all three asked at once, and their mutual exclamation served to lessen the tension in the room.

One of the girls emerged from the rubble and ran straight to Lord Grayson, an anxious yet hopeful gleam filling her gaze. Edward realized at once that it was Miss Heathrow and she was apparently as enraptured by Lord Grayson as he was with her, despite the man’s exceedingly ill manners. A cough below him drew his attention to the girl who had landed at his feet, and Edward soon forgot all about his betrothed and the rude lord who liked to throw his money around.

There, covered in dust, was the prettiest and sweetest looking dark-haired young lady Edward had ever set eyes on. Something strange in his chest tightened and warmth flooded through him. Without conscious thought, he found himself lifting her from the floor, holding her waist between his hands and unable to let her go. The girl stared at him speechlessly, her beautiful dark eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. Still keeping one hand on her waist, he reached in his pocket to retrieve a clean handkerchief, which he used to wipe the dust from her face.

The chaos unfolding around them faded, and it seemed as if they were the only two people left in the world, this pretty young woman whose name Edward did not yet know.

“Are you an angel fallen from heaven, miss?” he asked with uncharacteristic humor as he leaned closer to the girl.

An impish grin overtook her features. “I don’t think anyone has ever mistaken me for an angel, my lord.” She giggled, and her laughter was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

Edward glanced up long enough to deduce that Lord Grayson and Miss Heathrow were indeed in agreement about getting married, Miss Wickersham was wearing an expression of dire exasperation as she assisted the older girl who’d fallen on the chair, and the formerly pistol-wielding lord was escorting the other young lady from the room.

It was at that moment the vicar walked in. The elderly man stopped in his tracks and clutched a book to his chest, his surprised gaze sweeping around the room.

Well, Edward supposed he ought to give Lord Grayson and Miss Heathrow some privacy to exchange their vows. He would not and could not force Miss Heathrow to marry him since she so obviously desired to be with Lord Grayson. He had never seen a couple look so in love as they stared at one another. When Lord Grayson glanced up, Edward gave him a polite nod, silently conveying that he did not plan to interfere with their nuptials, however unorthodox they might have come about.

Edward turned the dark-haired beauty in his arms and guided her out of the study, still unable to take his hands off her. It was most improper of him to keep touching her waist, and he quickly started to understand Lord Grayson’s plight.

A fierce and sudden attraction for the young lady in his arms burned through Edward, and he realized with startling clarity that if any man tried to pull this girl from his grasp in this moment, he would do away with such a man swiftly and violently. He felt downright deranged and animalistic as he led the girl into the great room and helped her sit. He sank onto the sofa next to her and boldly draped an arm around her.

“Are you all right, little miss?” He eyed her with concern. “Should I call for a doctor? Or, if I remember correctly, you have a nurse in residence at Talcott House. Shall I take you to the nurse?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, please don’t take me to see Nurse Lister,” the girl said. “She’s a most dour woman. Grumpier than Miss Wickersham is when she hasn’t yet had her breakfast and so very bossy. Even bossier than Garland, and you would not believe how bossy she is, my lord.”

“Very well, then,” he said with amusement building. He found her the most fascinating girl. Talkative and adorable and filled with energy, she was an absolute delight. Her mere presence made his worries and the darkness in his heart melt away. He grasped her delicate gloved hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon the back of her hand. “I am Edward Kensington, Earl of Sterling, and I am so very pleased to make your acquaintance, young miss. Would you please do me the honor of telling me your name?”

The prettiest blush stole over the girl’s face. “My-my name is Miss Daisy Smith. I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Lord Kensington. I hope it is not too bold of me to tell you how sorry I am that your morning has not gone as planned, but I admire you for not standing in the way of true love, for it is my opinion that Cynny and Lord Grayson are deeply in love. Did you see the way they looked at one another? My mother always said love matches were as rare as a flower that blooms in moonlight, which by the way I have never seen happen—do you know what kind of flower she was talking about?—but as I was saying, you did a kind and noble thing by allowing their marriage to take place this morning. I do so dearly hope that you do not feel too sad, my lord. Perhaps one day you will meet your love match. I advise you to keep your eyes peeled,” she said with utmost seriousness as she chattered fast as a little hummingbird might flap its wings, “for my mother also once told me that true love can strike in the most surprising places and between the most unlikely of people.”

Edward stared at her in silence for several seconds, feeling his jaw start to drop, but he quickly pressed his lips together and allowed himself a moment to digest everything she had said. In her sweet innocence, he realized, she was not even talking about herself when she advised him to keep his eyes peeled for his true love. She wasn’t trying to attach herself to him as a pushy eligible young miss might attempt to do at the balls and other social festivities Edward preferred to avoid. She was simply trying to comfort him.

At that precise instant, a piece of his heart broke off and attached itself to her. His throat tightened and he swallowed hard, as unfamiliar emotions—not sadness as she had feared, but something else entirely new and exciting—rolled through him.

“My lord? Are you going to cry?” she asked, her eyes going wide with sympathy. “Oh, my lord, as I said, your time for true love will surely come one day, and perhaps it will come soon. Please do not cry, but if you cannot help it, just say the word and I will stand guard at the entrance to the great room so no one interrupts you. I don’t like it when other people see me cry.”

He had the strangest urge to grab her and kiss her soundly. But he didn’t. He had only learned her name seconds ago, and until a few minutes earlier, he had still been betrothed to another.

Instead of grabbing her and kissing her, he found himself laughing. A real laugh, the first laugh he could recall having enjoyed in a long time. This sweet young lady had enamored herself to him without even trying. She had made him smile and laugh and wish he could drag the vicar into the great room to perform another wedding ceremony this morning. Miss Wickersham might have thought Miss Heathrow was the best choice for Edward when she’d arranged their betrothal, but Edward now very much questioned the headmistress’s matchmaking skills. It was this sweet young miss with the dark hair and the adorable blush—the lovely Miss Daisy Smith—who was perfect for him in every way. He had never been more certain of anything in his entire life.

She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look. “What is so funny, my lord? You were being so awfully quiet that I feared you might start crying, yet now you are laughing as if you don’t have a care in the world.”

He reached for an errant lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingertips trail ever so lightly along her flesh. It wasn’t proper. Not at all. But he couldn’t help himself. It was all he could do to keep from pressing her down on the sofa and placing kisses along her neckline. “I was being quiet, my sweet, because I did not wish to interrupt you. You are the most talkative and delightful little miss I have ever met, as well as the most beautiful and endearingly sweet.”

She gave a little gasp and appeared surprised, and he wondered with an aching heart if anyone had ever told her how pretty and sweet she was. A girl like her deserved to be showered with compliments and praise on a daily basis, and he longed to be the man to dote upon her in such a fashion. His feelings for her were so strong and sudden that he didn’t experience the slightest bit of heartache when the wedding party passed the great room and bustled outside.

Miss Wickersham paused in the entryway of the great room and crooked a finger at Daisy. “You!” the older woman said in an accusing tone. “I will be back to deal with you very soon, little girl. Eavesdropping is not an acceptable pastime for a proper young miss, and this is not the first time I have had to remind you of it.” Then the headmistress all of a sudden seemed to realize Edward was holding Miss Smith with far too much familiarity, and she promptly placed her hands on her hips and turned her glare on him. “Lord Kensington, I will thank you to take your hands off my little charge. There will be no canoodling at Talcott House. ”

With great reluctance, Edward unwrapped his arm from around Miss Smith and held his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. Miss Smith giggled beside him and folded her hands in her lap, and the two of them straightened in their seats and conveyed an exaggerated air of innocence to Miss Wickersham until the older woman finally walked away after someone called her name.

“Oh, you naughty, naughty lord,” Miss Smith said with a waggle of her eyebrows. “You better run and hide or Miss Wickersham might take her ruler to you.”

Edward turned toward the beautiful girl, utterly speechless for several moments. No one had ever called him a naughty, naughty lord before. The very idea was preposterous. He was serious and well-mannered and everything a proper, titled gentleman with great responsibilities ought to be. Though he’d turned into a bit of a recluse in recent years, he still garnered the respect of his peers whenever he did happen to venture out into the world. Yet the little lady with the silken dark hair who had selflessly tried to cheer him up had called him naughty, and her playful teasing warmed him all over and lifted his spirits higher than he could ever recall.

Finally, he released the chuckle that was building in his chest alongside his growing joy at merely being in the presence of the lovely Miss Smith. “I will take my chances,” he replied with a wink. “In fact, I think I will take my chances again very soon. What do you say, Miss Smith? May I call upon you this week? Perhaps even...tomorrow morning?”

“Wha-me?” Her eyes grew rounder and she peered at him with confusion.

He grasped her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing the back of her gloved hands each in turn. As he did so, he imagined his kisses were marking her and branding her as his. And she would belong to him soon, very soon, if the plan that was forming in his mind came to fruition. “Yes, sweet girl. You.” He rose up and released her hands, smiling down at her as his heart filled with happiness and gratitude at having met such an extraordinarily little miss. “Farewell, my little flower. I will see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Farewell, my lord,” she said in a shaky breath.

He gave her a gentlemanly bow before departing the room.

The second she was out of his sight, he missed her already.