The parlor at Lady Alford’s townhouse in London was furnished in dour shades of blue and green. Bronze antiquities sat on various surfaces, reflecting the dimmed light from a waterlogged sky outside the windows.

Emmeline had opted to stay with the Earl and Countess of Alford, her Aunt Catherine and Uncle Charles, instead of the townhouse once owned by her father, the previous Duke of Leverton. George had converted the town residence into a bachelor’s abode, with dreary colors and unremarkable furniture. Her aunt had argued with George that her own townhouse was more suited for entertaining a young lady’s admirers.

Lord Alford, Emmeline’s uncle, was another man who was eccentrically interested in archaic items retrieved from various tombs in Egypt and Asia. His library at his country residence in Suffolk, was overflowing with Mesolithic antiquities, with the more precious gold items of Roman origin locked away.

Emmeline studied the wooden figurine of a man-beast creature gaping at her with its mouth open in pain, and grimaced at her uncle’s taste in collecting.

“My Lady,” Hudgins, the butler entered. “Miss Benwick is here on a visitation.”

Emmeline smiled at the stoic man, “Please tell her to join me here, and ask Beth to bring in tea and cakes–especially those fruit tarts of Cook. Ann is partial to them.”

Inclining his head, Hudgins left, and she sat, smoothed the folds of her light green dress, and waited.

Ann entered the parlor, red cheeked and fiery haired. Emmeline rose and embraced her and then they sat together on a Grecian chaise lounge. As she had expected, her close friend was attired in one of her lovely lavender day gowns, looking beautiful as always.

“You look lovely,” Emmeline commented.

“Why, thank you! I ran into Lord Coombs on my way through Hyde Park today,” Ann said, her blue eyes twinkling. “He talked to me for a spell, but then I had to hurry here.”

Emmeline laughed, “So it is Lord Coombs this time?”

The daughter of a wealthy renowned merchant, Ann had enough contacts to avoid the dreaded fate of a wallflower. Her father was quite possessive of his only daughter; hence this was her first season in London, and she was enjoying it thoroughly. Perhaps too much, for she was smitten with a new gentleman every week. Many gentlemen, born with a title but led into bankruptcy by their sires, or by visiting gaming establishments all too often, were pursuing her incessantly.

“Yes, it is Lord Coombs this time–he is so adorable, Emmeline,” Ann gushed, “And he is most elegantly attired at all times!”

Emmeline shook her head as her thoughts strayed to a tall, dark man standing in a library, his once-aloof features slowly altering to that of mirth. “My dear friend, in truth, I am weary of the bright colors men prefer these days.”

“What is amiss today, Em? You seem quite preoccupied,” Ann asked, with both annoyance and curiosity in her tone. “You have that look in your eyes.”

Emmeline flushed under her friend’s scrutiny. “Oh, it is nothing, I was merely thinking about this gentleman…”

“A gentleman…what gentleman?” Ann’s eyes widened. “You have never spoken about any gentleman before–so who is he?”

Blushing slightly, Emmeline told Ann about her encounter with the Duke of Newberry but left out the feelings that had emerged after.

“He is a Fitzroy?” Ann sighed, “But that is so romantic!”

“Nonsense, Ann,” Emmeline’s tone was flat. “This is not one of the Gothic novels we read. The enmity between our families is unalterable, and George would be angry if he heard of this.”

“George is as bad as one of those old biddies of the ton. Possibly worse.” Ann rolled her eyes heavenward.

Emmeline shrugged. “I am certain that the Duke of Newberry is aware of the circumstances and would not even think of courting me.”

“You have never spoken this way of any gentleman before,” Ann remarked. “He sounds a bit rakish. I will ask Mother about him. If he is indeed notorious for ruining reputations, you will have to stay away from him.”

“I have not considered staying near him anyway,” Emmeline bristled.

“Oh, but if he is not a rake, you can, of course, pursue him!” Ann said devilishly.

“Ann, I have never pursued a man in my life,” Emmeline scowled.

“Maybe it is time you did.” Ann raised her delicate brows. “Of course, you would do it discreetly and in a way that even he will not realize.”

“I do not possess such talents as you,” Emmeline reminded her.

“Well, you are a fast learner, and besides, you are a beauty. Why would any man not court you?”

Emmeline shook her head, sure that Ann was confusing her own appeal with hers. She did not possess her friend’s vivid coloring, high spirits, or confident personality that appealed to gentlemen.

“I still cannot believe you did not meet me in the gardens at the Croxton Ball,” Emmeline said suddenly, “and just because you were too occupied with your dance partners.”

“Emmeline, I do not have one, but two chaperones. And neither of them is as gullible as poor Lady Alford,” Ann said sourly.

Emmeline shook her head. She knew how difficult it was for Ann to avoid not only her mother but her mother’s paid companion, as well. “I believed we were going to discuss the particulars of our little adventure to Vauxhall Gardens,” Emmeline said, her brow furrowing. Vauxhall Gardens offered all sorts of entertainment, although young debutantes such as herself were technically not allowed to go there escorted or otherwise as the labyrinthine passages in the gardens were famous for trysts and illicit dealings.

“I have convinced Owen to take us to Vauxhall with him,” Ann told her.

“How did you accomplish that?” Emmeline asked.

Ann shrugged daintily. “I threatened to tell Mother about a certain widow named Lady Juliana.”

“He is having an affair with a widow?” Emmeline frowned.

Mr. Owen was Ann’s brother and only two years younger than the ladies, but despite his age, he was wild and did what he pleased. He had the same basic coloring of Ann, only with a darker hue of hair, a rakish smile, and reckless disposition.

Ann brushed back a stray strand of her hair with her fingers and sighed. “Ladies prey on him because he is wealthy and handsome. I attempted to make him understand that this lady intends to take advantage of him.”

“What did he say to that?” Emmeline inquired.

“He told me to mind my own business. Then he said that if I go to our parents about this matter, it will make no difference as he will continue to do as he pleases. He also asked, quite angrily, whether I believed him to be a fool.” Ann sighed again, shaking her head woefully.

Emmeline grinned as her friend was apparently given to theatrics. “At least he knows what the lady is about, so it is possibly a relationship based on Mutualism, Ann. That is a biological theory in the animal kingdom. One is doing the latter a service, while receiving benefit in return.”

“I see,” Ann said finally. “So, which is my brother?”

Emmeline deliberately ignored the sarcasm in her friend’s voice. “I believe he is receiving a service, while Lady Juliana is the receiver of payment of some proportion.”

“Good heavens, Emmeline! Where do you even get these notions from?” Ann cried in horror at the visualization.

“I read it in a science journal once,” Emmeline said nonchalantly. “I realized it could be attributed to men, as well as dumb beasts.”

The ladies stared at each other for a moment, before being consumed by laughter. It was difficult to stop–tears ran down their cheeks by the time they gained a semblance of control.

“On a serious note.” Emmeline sobered, thinking about the impending adventure. “We will need have a feasible excuse that will not require a chaperone, so no balls or soirees, and then make use of a hackney carriage since your coachman will tell your father of our whereabouts.”

Ann nodded. “I shall discuss this with Owen and tell you the particulars soon.”

Henry, Viscount of Croxton, studied the Duke of Newberry while comfortably seated in the depths of White’s. The latter’s behavior had been peculiar strange for several days now, and it was a fact that extracting any kind of information from Noah was akin to pulling a tooth rooted in bone. Hence, he waited for his friend to discuss the reason for his mood.

Henry sipped whiskey from a crystal glass, while Noah smoked one of his favorite imported cigars. Tendrils of smoke swirled around White’s, full of gentlemen trying a hand at whist, quinze, or making merry in male company.

A group of gentlemen were crowded around a table, placing wagers on whether a certain debutante would marry a certain man of the peerage or not. Henry shook his head, as he knew that as soon the man in question discovered the wagers, which as a member of White’s was certain to happen, he would have their hides whipped.

A year ago, Henry would not have believed that he would be married to Lady Alexandria. During his rakish years in society, he had never been struck speechless in front of a lady, let alone a pretty little widow, until Lady Alexandria had walked into his life.

“Whatever is the matter with you today, Henry?” grumbled Noah, “You look worse than a lady on her monthly.”

Henry spluttered in shock. “I? You are the one who has been grumbling like an old woman since this past week!”

Noah scowled blackly. “You have not said a word since we came here, my man.”

“That is because I am waiting for you, sir, to cease your brooding and tell me what has you all agog,” Henry demanded.

Noah relapsed into stubborn silence while Henry shook his head and continued to drink. The Earl of Browning joined them several moments later.

Henry was relieved, as Lord Browning’s constant gossip about various events of the season was a distraction. Noah was not fit company at the moment.

“...and Leverton’s girl. Is she not a beauty?” Lord Browning was saying. “My father tells me her mother was much more beautiful–striking rather–with very fair hair.”

“Your father gossips like an old lady,” said Noah irritably.

Lord Browning frowned. “Oh yes, I remember your rivalry with Newberrys.”

“I do not have a rivalry with anyone,” Noah snapped.

“Am I mistaken? Don’t your families have a–” the Earl blanched at Noah’s vicious glare scorching his skin and coughed nervously, “Um, excuse me, sirs, I think I have to go see Lord Geer.”

“Now, why would you scare off Browning, Newberry?” complained Henry. “His senseless prattling was amusing me.”

“The conversation was annoying me,” Noah said simply.

“So, have you met Lady Emmeline?” Henry asked slyly.

“I have,” Noah admitted.

“At our ball at Croxton House?” Henry was more perceptive than Noah gave him credit.

The latter scowled. “Stop trying to trap me with my words–you were there, so stop beating around the bush.”

“I gather the encounter was not pleasant,” Henry pressed.

“It was actually the opposite,” Noah said flatly. “I saw a different side of her, one I wanted to explore but…”

Henry drained the last dregs of his whiskey. “Then what is the problem?”

“I believe it is obvious–her family name and mine,” Noah told him.

“Come now, Noah, you cannot be serious about this.” Henry shook his head. “You cannot continue a feud that occurred years ago. After all, my good man, we do not live in medieval times.”

“It is almost impossible to consider courting her,” Noah said finally. “My family has given hers the social cut many times in the past.”

“What was this enmity about?” demanded Henry. “Some nonsense about your grandfather being killed by her granduncle? We all know that he died of a heart attack!”

“It is along those lines, and the term my grandmother would use is ‘murdered,’ instead of ‘died.’” Noah scraped the end of his dying cigar on the ashtray. “Lady Emmeline’s granduncle wanted to marry my grandmother, but she was married off to my grandfather, Jacob, the Duke of Newberry, anyway. From what I was told, the two men did not like one another, but the duchies still kept cordial hunting parties. At one such arrangement, the granduncle and my grandfather squabbled, leading to an accident in a hunting party. My grandfather died there. It was believed he was pushed during the hunt and the diagnosis–that he died of a heart attack–was untrue.”

“Fanciful,” muttered Henry, shaking his head. “What is it about this lady that intrigues you, anyway? I have not heard you talk about proper courtship before.”

“I did not because I had no reason or opportunity to,” Noah said darkly. “However...”

Henry’s eyes widened, then he chuckled. “However...”

Before Noah could fall into a brooding silence, Henry said, “Noah, if you want to court the lady, then court her. Perhaps it is time for the ridiculous feud to come to an end.”

Henry could see Noah mulling over the words as his eyes had darkened to a deep shade of gray. Smiling to himself, Henry left the Duke to his musings but hoped he would decide to end the senseless feud.

Emmeline was tickled at the sour look on Mr. Owen Benwick’s face. The gentleman was clearly not pleased to escort the two ladies to Vauxhall Gardens. Ann, however, had threatened that Emmeline and she would find another way to go alone, and that alternative was completely unacceptable to him.

They had just arrived at the gates of the gardens and Owen paid for them all to enter.

“Look at my dear brother, being so generous in your presence, Emmeline,” Ann mocked jauntily.

Owen glared at her and then walked inside the gates.

“Must you tease him constantly, Ann?” Emmeline asked. “He is consenting to escort us, so let him be. Let’s agree to enjoy this stolen time.”

The vista of the beautiful gardens silenced both ladies as they observed the area. Paths entwined to meet at a large circular clearing, dotted by fairy-like gaslights. Pleasant music intermingled with excited voices and laughter. Stall vendors shouted their wares. The delicious scents of meat pies, fruity tarts, and freshly baked scones lingered in the breeze. Emmeline was reminded that she had not eaten well at dinner because of excitement.

“Can we purchase a pie?” Ann’s voice echoed her thoughts.

Owen gave a non-committal grunt, walking to a nearby apple pie seller.

“I am so happy we are here,” Ann said to Emmeline, “This is marvellous.”

“As am I!” Emmeline exclaimed. “Look! They are removing the canvas from The Cascade.”

Ann craned her neck. “Oh dear, I hope Owen returns soon, for it is getting crowded swiftly.” Mr. Benwick was merely several paces away from them, but the crowd made it impossible to see him.

A large canvas, bearing a pleasant painting, was being drawn back by men to reveal the most popular attraction, The Cascade. It was a man-made waterfall, controlled by modern mechanics, with even the sound of the falling water artificially produced.

At that moment, Owen appeared, bearing large pieces of fragrant apple pies. They each took their share and made haste to get a position in the rush of ebullient onlookers.

Suddenly, water, bright and stunning as if lit by sunlight, cascaded down unseen turns and barely-visible rocks. The peaceful sound of rushing water was broken by the sudden burst of applause and chatter of the people surrounding the magnificent display.

“Heavens! That does not look man made at all,” Emmeline gasped.

“They have cleverly arranged the lighting and sounds on principles of physics,” Owen remarked.

“Now do not start telling us about those principles, Owen,” Ann warned.

Owen scowled. “I did not intend to, dear sister. I barely know them myself.”

Emmeline ignored the squabbling siblings. Although the Cascade was something to be admired, Emmeline preferred natural beauty. She thought that the missing peace and quiet of Mother Nature was something no one could reproduce, no matter how many laws of physics they attempted to apply.

Then she remembered the book that Noah had suggested to her. It had been so monotonous, and filled with terms she could hardly decode, that she had fallen asleep on the comfortable, overlarge chair in the Croxton library.

Her thoughts were cut to the quick when her dry throat demanded something to soothe it. As she believed she had seen a stand with some cold lemonade being sold nearby, Emmeline left the two bickering siblings.

She walked to the old woman sitting beside the lemonade stall, paying her a penny for the drink. The tangy taste of lemons on her tongue was just what she needed.

“Lady Emmeline?” a surprised voice said.

Emmeline stopped drinking to immediately turn. She shivered as that deep voice washed over her–it was the Duke of Newberry. How could she not believe that he would find her, even halfway across London, in this heavy crowd? A part of her was beginning to believe that there was a magnetic power operating between them–a mischievous one, of course–but one that never failed to draw them together.

“Your Grace,” Emmeline said evenly as she turned and lifted her head to stare into his eyes. “What a surprise seeing you here.”

The Duke was silent before his lips stretched into a knowing smirk. “Not as surprising as seeing you, My Lady. You do know this is a place that ruins reputations?”

“It is a place of man-made wonder and intrigue,” Emmeline replied, as she found her ground. “One can only indulge in the immoral if one chooses to.”

The Duke glanced over his shoulder and then quickly back to her, “Come with me, you are in the open. Some members of the ton are here, and it will do you no good to be seen.”

With her hand grasped in his, Emmeline felt a warmth come over her at his touch, and followed him past the Cascade and vendor stalls, into the winding trails of the gardens. The serpentine paths were marked by unlit standing gas lights and tall hedges. Their hurried pace slowed when they stepped into a smaller pathway and were out of sight.

“I should say that I am surprised seeing you here, but I really am not,” the Duke of Newberry said, as they strolled down the stone path “I know you’ve been laden with Pandora’s curse.”

“I have not let out all the evils of this world, Your Grace.” Emmeline replied stiffly, “If that is what you’re implying.”

He stopped before a rose bush and turned to her, his glimmering gray eyes lit with humor, “I am only saying that you’re a curious soul, Lady Emmeline.”

Merely a foot away, Emmeline examined the Duke’s clothes–buckskin breeches, a fitted black waistcoat over a matching shirt, dark ascot, and heavy boots. With his ever present fly-away hair, the man looked like he had just ridden the tundra instead of walking a cobblestone path.

His gaze was discomfiting so she turned away, “It is so. I am burdened with a quest for knowledge.”

The Duke’s lips pressed together tightly, “For the sake of my sanity, I cannot and will not assume that you’ve arrived here on your own. That is a dangerous endeavor, even for an adventurous mind like yourself.”

The tone he used was laden with masculine protection and it provoked a soft heat inside her, “I came here with the Benwicks. Owen, Ann’s brother, was blackmailed into carrying us here.”

“Then I will have to return you to the–”

Emmeline suddenly found herself dragged into the Duke’s arms and twisted away from the hedge that she was standing beside. She was about to strike him when voices she recognized as Lord and Lady Garrick, fashionable members of the ton, drifted pass. She was twisted away into a position that looked like a heated kiss, contorted into an angle that hid her face. Her eyes were inches away from Noah’s and his gray orbs–glittering like polished granite–became her world.

“Stay still,” he mouthed.

Emmeline nodded and resolutely stopped her lips from trembling. She clutched at his shoulders as the couple passed by, but her focus wasn’t on them. The Duke’s gray eyes were hypnotic and mesmerizing.

What would they look like angered, lit with jealously or aflame with desire? And did his eyes just flit to my mouth?

“Oh, dear,” Lady Garrick noted as her voice floated over the hedge. “Is that the Duke of Newberry over there?”

Emmeline went so tense she froze. If they saw her, her spotless reputation would be a thing of the past. Thoughts of disparaging reports, cruel barbs, and jeers towards her flew through her mind like swift wind.

“Leave him be, dear,” Lord Garrick said, as he hurried his wife away.

Though it was only a few moments, it felt like an eternity before the couple moved off and Noah released her from the contorted position.

“I will have to return you in the honorable condition I found you in.” While repeating his words from before, the Duke’s voice had deepened to a husk. “Come, it is time for you to go.”

Taking his hand once more, Emmeline followed him from the inner recesses of the gardens, back into the Cascade area. They had barely set foot on the main walk when Ann barreled into Noah.

Dutifully, he grabbed a stumbling Ann. The loss of his warm hand shocked Emmeline, but she refused to acknowledge it and the feelings it carried.

“Steady there, Miss Benwick.” The Duke calmed the nearly frantic Ann. “Your precious friend is safe…I found her wandering the gardens and brought her back to you.”

Rolling her eyes at his impertinence, Emmeline stepped in front. “I think it’s time to go, Ann. Some of the ton are here.”

Ann’s blue eyes darted between Emmeline and the Duke but instead of saying anything about the pairing, she nodded, “I agree. Thank you, Your Grace.”

By that time, Owen had joined them and acknowledged the Duke with a respectful nod. “Ladies, the hackney carriage is waiting. Have a good evening, Your Grace.”

As she hurried off, Emmeline looked over her shoulder to where Noah was still standing, and felt something warm curl inside at his heated gaze.

They arrived at the hackney carriage and with Owen’s help alighted. Seated, Ann turned to her companion, “So, how did the Duke really find you? Or did you–?”

Emmeline groaned internally. “Must you torture me, Ann?”