Chapter One
July 1819
Miss Ava Baynes studied her reflection in the mirror. Her father had been English and her mother Spanish. As a result, she didn’t have the same fair complexion that English ladies did. And so far, the gentlemen she’d come across all preferred the lighter complexions.
To make things more complicated, she wasn’t a striking beauty like her friend Opal. Ava was more on the “darling” side. She had an attraction all her own, but it was nothing that made gentlemen stop what they were doing and look her way. Opal had that kind of beauty, though she didn’t realize it. She could have had any gentleman she wanted. She ended up marrying Lord Farewell because of a scandal, but she wouldn’t have needed the scandal to secure a husband.
If Opal hadn’t been as sweet as she was pretty, Ava would be jealous of her. But since Opal was the kindest person she’d ever met, it was hard to begrudge her friend the good fortune of finding a love match…and so quickly in her first Season.
Ava still had time to find a husband. The Season wasn’t over yet, and it was her first one. That made her more desirable. So she had that going for her. She just didn’t have the grace or money other ladies did.
“Surely, things like extreme beauty, grace, and money aren’t as important as people claim they are,” she told her reflection, though she knew full well they really were.
“If you keeping talking to yourself, someone’s going to think there’s something wrong with you,” came the familiar voice of her twelve-year-old brother.
Startled, she spun around, tripping on the hem of her gown and almost falling right into the mirror. She managed to catch her balance just in time.
“Timothy, it’s not right to sneak into my room like that,” she said with a laugh. “You gave me a terrible fright.”
He grinned. “You frighten too easily. Auntie says you’d run from your own shadow if you saw it.”
“I’m not that bad.” Sure, she had some moments where she got spooked, but that was mostly when she was all by herself and it was dark. But who didn’t experience that occasional chill from time to time?
“Do you think tonight will be the night?” Dinah, her ten-year-old sister, asked as she bounded into the room. “Will you come home with a husband?”
Amused, Ava put her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t work like that. I have to acquire a betrothal first. After that, the wedding date is set. Besides, if I marry, I will go live with him, just as our mother went to live with our father when they married.”
“You won’t be going to another country, will you?” Timothy asked.
“No. I’ll be staying right here in London.”
Being the oldest, Ava remembered their parents more than Timothy and Dinah did, but Dinah had been five when their parents grew ill with consumption. Their mother had succumbed to it first, and as soon as their father realized he had it, he sent word to his brother, the Duke of Harding. His brother and wife lived in London.
As soon as her uncle got her father’s missive, he came out to the cottage in the country, and the two brothers worked out the arrangements for what would be done with Ava, Timothy, and Dinah. Shortly after that, her father died.
Her uncle and aunt, who didn’t have children of their own, were determined to keep the siblings together despite their limited money. They hadn’t been all that much better off than Ava’s parents had been, but they had made the arrangement work.
Ava’s aunt had put quite a bit of money into making her debut to the Ton as ideal as she could. Though Ava knew her aunt wouldn’t wish there to be any pressure on her, Ava felt it all the same. If she didn’t marry this Season, she would fail her poor aunt…not to mention she would have wasted the money the lady had spent on her clothing.
Her aunt came into the room and smiled. “You look splendid this evening, Ava!”
“You really think so?” Ava put her hand over her stomach to help stop the butterflies that were wreaking havoc on her.
“I do. Any gentleman who can resist you lacks good sense.”
Her aunt was being much too kind. There were plenty of gentlemen who could resist her, and Ava was certain it wasn’t because they all lacked good sense. But it was nice of her aunt to say that. “Thank you, Auntie.”
Her aunt gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re going to marry this Season. I can feel it in my soul.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Tonight will be the night you’ll meet your future husband if you wish it to be,” Dinah spoke up. “But you have to wish really hard.”
“Maybe you should make a wish as you look up at the stars,” Timothy said. “I read a book where it worked for a boy. Maybe it’ll work for you, too.”
Her aunt chuckled. “That was only a story, Timothy. Things don’t work like that in real life.” When Dinah and Timothy frowned in disappointment, she hurried to add, “Though it couldn’t hurt to try it.” She smiled at Ava. “If you feel inclined to.”
Noting the way her sister and brother looked expectantly in her direction, Ava consented to doing what they wanted. “All right. I’ll do it.”
Timothy perked right up. “You have to do it before you cross the threshold of the front doorway. You open the door, look up at the sky, and then think your wish. You can’t speak it aloud. If you speak it aloud, it won’t come true.”
Giving him a nod to indicate she would follow his instructions, she turned to her aunt. “I’m ready.”
Her aunt led her out of the room. “I haven’t heard much about Lord Youngtown, but he’s hosting the ball this evening. I have arranged for you to share a dance with him. This is the first bachelor who’s hosting a ball that we’ve been to. The way his townhouse looks might say something about him. Your uncle was a firm believer that you could tell a person’s character by the way they decorated their residence.”
The butler hurried to the front door and opened it.
Ava glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, Dinah and Timothy were watching her. Chuckling under her breath, she stood at the threshold, peered up at the sky, and wished, Let this be the evening that I meet the gentleman I’ll marry. She glanced back at her sister and brother. “I made the wish. The rest is up to fate.”
Then, taking a deep breath, she crossed the threshold.
***
Brad Bachman, the Earl of Youngtown, stood still as his valet slipped the frock coat over his shoulders.
Someone chuckled from the doorway of his bedchamber.
Eyebrows furrowed, Brad glanced over his shoulder as the valet buttoned the frock coat for him.
Stephen Bachman, his nineteen-year-old brother, walked over to him. “Maybe this will be the evening your dreams come true. Maybe, at long last, you’ll find a wife.”
Brad glowered at him. “I don’t recall asking for you to come in here.”
“I don’t need permission to come into your bedchamber. I’m your brother.”
Brad sighed as the valet began to comb his hair. If he wasn’t absolutely still, the valet would have to do it all over again. Appearances were everything, and if he was going to secure a wife, he needed to look his best.
Stephen clucked his tongue then sat in one of the chairs. “You’ve been actively searching for a wife for the past four years, and all of your efforts have been in vain. What makes you think this evening is going to be any different?”
“Did you come in here to annoy me?” Brad asked, not hiding his irritation.
“No. Believe it or not, that isn’t my intention. I’m merely curious.”
“I wish you would be curious about other things.”
“Oh, I am. And, in case you’re wondering, I do take measures to satisfy those curiosities. Which reminds me…” Stephen shifted so that he had a better view of Brad. “Can I have some more money?”
“What?”
In his surprise, Brad made the mistake of turning to face his brother. Just what he needed! He’d spent too much time picking out just the right outfit for tonight. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be late to his own ball. And he hated to be late. He quickly turned back to the valet and motioned for him to start over on combing his hair.
“I only need a small amount,” Stephen said. “Six pence. That’s not even a shilling. Surely, you can spare that much.”
“What do you need it for?”
“My mistress. She says Lord Manning can offer her more of an allowance than I currently give her.”
Brad’s lower jaw dropped. “You have a mistress?”
“Yes. I just got her two months ago. She’s older and more experienced. I have to pay her what she’s worth.”
Brad grimaced. He’d heard enough. “I will not give you more money so you can satisfy your…your…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not in front of the valet. “I am disappointed in you.”
“Why? Every gentleman in London takes a mistress at one time or another.”
“No, not every gentleman takes a mistress.”
“My apologies. I’ll amend what I just said. Normal gentlemen take a mistress at one time or another. You’re not normal.” Stephen stood up. “I don’t know why you insist on being so stuffy. A mistress is a very pleasurable thing to have. It’s certainly better than having to take care of things yourself.”
“Did it ever occur to you that other gentlemen have taken their pleasure with her, too?”
Stephen nodded. “How else would she be good at what she does?”
Brad almost shook his head but resisted the temptation to. The valet would soon be finished combing his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was have the valet start over a third time.
“The answer is no,” Brad said. “I’m not giving you any more money until the first of next month. That is when you get your allowance. If you can’t handle the amount I give you, then you’re welcome to get a job.”
Stephen gasped as if he’d been asked to do the most repulsive thing a human could possibly do. “A job? I am the brother of a wealthy earl. Why would I need a job?”
“So you can afford things you don’t need, like experienced mistresses.”
“The mistress I have is a need.”
“She is not a need. She is a lust. A lust is a want.”
“If I don’t satisfy my more pressing urges, then I’ll emit my seed while I sleep. That makes this a need.”
Brad couldn’t believe Stephen actually came out and made that comment right in front of the valet. Face warm with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, he snapped, “Just for saying that, I’m giving you one less shilling for your next month’s allowance.”
“You’re not serious!”
“If you want me to take away two shillings, then keep arguing with me.”
With a grunt, Stephen stormed out of the bedchamber.
Brad closed his eyes. Just when he didn’t think Stephen could shock him any more than he already had, Stephen proved him wrong. “Please forgive the way my brother spoke,” Brad told the valet as he opened his eyes. “If I had known he would take the conversation in that direction, I would have forbidden him to say a single word.”
“It is all right, my lord,” the valet assured him as he finished combing the last strands of Brad’s hair. “I’ve heard much worse over the years.”
Had he? Brad didn’t make it a habit of associating with anyone like his brother. He chose his friends with great care, knowing full well that bad company corrupted good habits. A gentleman couldn’t control who was in his family, but he could control who his friends were.
A gentleman also got the fortune of choosing his wife. And Brad had every intention of picking the right lady for that role. He wanted someone who would match his orderly and predictable lifestyle. He wanted someone true and dependable. He wanted someone graceful and sweet.
His requirements weren’t all that much. He didn’t need someone who was a striking beauty or who had a lot of money. As Stephen had pointed out, he already had a significant amount of wealth, thanks to his years of careful planning and saving.
What he really wanted was a love match. He knew such things weren’t likely in London where people often married for reasons like money or social prominence. But it was possible. That was why he wasn’t rushing the process of finding the right lady. He had to meet her first. Then he would bring her to his dinner party. If things went well from there, he would ask her father or brother if he could court her. He would take her out with a chaperone, of course, and they would get to know each other better and fall in love before he finally proposed.
He had envisioned the process many times. Each Season, the plan became more and more defined in his mind. All he needed was to meet the right lady. Once he did that, the rest would fall into place.