The Duke of Townsend, shifted his gaze to the opposite side of the Billingsworth ballroom where his eldest son, Gideon, Marquess of Sheffield, stood with his lovely wife, Eve. Gideon was impeccably dressed, and Eve was the picture of natural elegance and grace. They looked as uncomfortable as Edward felt. But one look at his second son Benjamin, whose lively wife Rachael was regaling them with some light-hearted chatter, and his daughter Winnifred and her husband, Nick Stillman, reassured him that somehow his family would take their rightful place in Society.

His children were surrounded by a growing number of Society’s elite, who were anxious to meet the elusive heir to the Townsend dynasty. Edward swallowed a hard knot of fear. They must never know that the reason his son had been absent from Society his entire life was because his stepmother, the late Duchess of Townsend, had been poisoning him to make him appear mad. From the time he’d been eight years old she’d given him a substance that caused painful seizures. As the boy grew, the seizures became more violent. By the time he’d reached his majority, he was no longer able to leave the confines of Shadowdown, a hospital where he could be treated.

If Society discovered what the Duchess of Townsend had done, his family would be ruined. The scandal surrounding them would destroy their reputation. They would become comically pathetic as the story was cast and recast into something even more vulgar and diabolical than it had in actuality been.

Edward loosened his death-like grip on the glass in his hand. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t control the anger that consumed him every time he thought of the woman he’d married after the death of his first wife. A woman he now knew had killed his first wife. All because she believed she deserved to be his duchess. Because she wanted her son to be the future Duke of Townsend instead of seeing the title go to the son he’d had with another woman. A woman he’d loved with his whole heart.

“You look deep in thought, Father,” Gideon said.

“And from the expression on your face, whatever you were thinking wasn’t a happy thought,” Gideon’s younger brother Benjamin chided.

Edward smiled as the young lords and ladies who’d joined his sons and daughters-in-law greeted him, then scattered as the orchestra sailed into the opening set. “It was nothing. But what about you?” The duke focused his gaze on Gideon and Eve. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

A Billingsworth footman passed by with a tray of drinks, and Edward stopped him. Gideon and Benjamin each took a glass of champagne for themselves and one each for their wives.

“Are you asking if Eve and I are more comfortable mingling with Society tonight than we were at the two events we attended earlier this week? Or the ones we attended last week, Your Grace?”

Edward couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Gideon. I imagine that’s what I’m asking.”

His eldest son smiled at his wife. “Yes, Your Grace,” he said, tucking his wife’s hand into the crook of his elbow. “We are becoming more comfortable. You have done everything in your power to help me take my place in Society. But I would like your word on something.”

“Of course, Gideon. Anything.”

“I want you to promise me that you will not pass your title down to me for at least another fifty years.”

Edward couldn’t help but laugh. “I will do my best, son, but that decision isn’t mine to make.”

“Then perhaps I will force my brother to take my place at Society’s events. He seems born to this life.”

“Oh, no,” Benjamin countered. “I plan to spend my old age sitting on the bank of the river with a fishing pole in one hand and a bottle of brandy in the other.”

“And where do you imagine I will be?” Lady Rachael teased.

“Why, close beside me,” Benjamin answered, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist. “I wouldn’t think of going anywhere without you.”

Benjamin’s exaggerated wink caused them all to laugh.

“In all seriousness, Gideon,” His Grace said, making sure the tone of his voice contained a fatherly softness instead of the commanding tone he used when speaking as the Duke of Townsend. “I know you are uncomfortable in these surroundings. But your appearance here is important.”

“I know, Father. And I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

“And now,” the duke said, “it’s time I danced with one of my lovely daughters-in-law.” Edward turned to Gideon’s wife. “My dear, if you would allow me,” he said, extending his hand to the woman who would be the next Duchess of Townsend.

“It would be my pleasure,” Lady Eve answered. “The orchestra is far too fine to ignore.”

Edward and Eve had only taken one step toward the dance floor before he realized something was wrong. The surrounding cacophony of conversation and laughter died off sharply until not a sound could be heard. The strains of the orchestra beginning the opening notes of the next set choked as if someone had strangled the air from every instrument.

Edward stepped back into the circle of his family and scanned the crowd around him. All eyes lifted to the entrance of the ballroom.

A lone figure stood at the top of the stairs.

Edward recognized her instantly, as did every other person in attendance. They all wore expressions of shock, or dark looks of disapproval.

Few thought she’d ever show her face in Society again. But Her Majesty had hinted that Lady Lindleigh might be here tonight. And here she was. Edward couldn’t imagine the courage it took for her to face the ton.

She was exactly as he remembered her: small, elegant, the picture of grace and sophistication. The emerald gown she wore only accentuated her narrow waist and regal bearing. She had always been a beauty without comparison, and in the year she’d been absent, little had changed. Except perhaps with the chilling composure she displayed she’d grown even more beautiful.

The room remained deathly quiet, the atmosphere resembling that of a morgue. But Edward knew it wouldn’t remain that way. He knew it was only a matter of time before the first of Society’s haughtiest made their move. Only a matter of time before the lady standing before them received a cut direct.

As if on cue, the first small circle of matrons turned their backs on her.

“Who is she?” Gideon’s wife asked.

Of course she wouldn’t know. Eve was the daughter of a country doctor and had never been a part of the London scene. Gideon, too, wouldn’t know, since he’d been confined to Shadowdown until little more than a year ago.

“It’s Lady Lindleigh. The Earl of Lindleigh’s widow,” Benjamin answered quietly.

“Why is everyone staring at her like that?”

“They want her to know that she is not welcome. That she isn’t accepted,” Rachael said.

“But why?”

“Because she is rumored to have murdered her husband,” Edward said.

“That was never proven,” his daughter Winnie objected.

“Don’t you know?” Edward countered. “Nothing has to be proven in Society. It only has to be rumored.”

He returned his gaze to the small woman descending the stairs. He didn’t know what he expected. Perhaps that she would turn around and leave. Perhaps that she would collapse to the floor in a heap. Perhaps that tears would fill her deep blue eyes, then trickle down her alabaster cheeks.

She did none of those. She stood with her back straight, her shoulders lifted, and her head held high. If he thought she might show the slightest sign of weakness, he was wrong. She didn’t exhibit a hint of timidity, nor did she seem delicate, or weak. Instead, she was without a doubt the bravest, most fearless female he’d ever seen. She reminded him of a female Daniel walking into the lion’s den. If she was frightened, she didn’t show it.

The Countess of Lindleigh confidently made her way down the steps toward the hostile crowd. But instead of the ton admiring her bravery, one by one they turned their backs on her.

She eventually reached the bottom of the stairs, but there was no one to greet her. Lady Billingsworth had retreated to the far side of the ballroom. It was obvious she had no intention of acknowledging her presence.

The room was quiet, except for the rustle of silks and satins as those in attendance turned so they would not have to look at the intruder. En masse, they gave Lady Lindleigh the cut direct.

Edward looked around the ballroom, searching for someone who would come to Lady Lindleigh’s rescue. He didn’t know why, but he wanted there to be someone. Perhaps it was because her husband, the late Earl of Lindleigh, had been a friend in his youth. Although Lindleigh had been a year older than Edward, the two had an amiable friendship at Gresham’s. There had even been an episode in which Lindleigh had come to Edward’s rescue when some older boys bullied him. Lindleigh had fought them off, and received a bloodied nose for his trouble.

But Lady Lindleigh was not so fortunate. There was no one in the room who would dare stand up for her.

No one moved for what seemed an eternity. An eerie silence consumed the ballroom, no one daring to speak in anything except hushed whispers. After an agonizingly long moment, Lady Billingsworth motioned for the orchestra to begin the next selection. They did.

Gradually, the guests moved. Conversation resumed, and couples migrated to the dance floor. The selection was a waltz, and a crush of couples crowded the floor, talking and laughing as if nothing untoward had just happened.

But Lady Lindleigh was not a part of that group. She stood alone and isolated at the foot of the stairs, not having moved from the spot where she’d been. Abandoned. Ignored.

Edward focused on her, and saw a slight shift to her demeanor. As if now that she’d come this far, her courage threatened to abandon her.

“Is she just going to stand there?” Gideon’s wife asked, brushing away a tear that spilled over her lashes.

“Perhaps she’ll leave,” Winnie said. “Everyone has made it more than apparent that she won’t be accepted. And neither will anyone who befriends her.”

Edward heard his daughter’s words and knew they were true. Even though he tried, he couldn’t shift his gaze from where Lindleigh’s widow stood. For some unfathomable reason, the events of that afternoon in the schoolyard all those years ago came back with vivid clarity: the feeling of fear as one bully after another teased and taunted him. The aloneness, the helplessness, the feeling of abandonment. Until his rescuer stepped in. Until the Earl of Lindleigh helped him when he most needed his help.

Before Edward could consider the ramifications of his actions, his feet carried him forward. He walked toward her and didn’t stop until he was directly in front of her.

“Lady Lindleigh,” he said, bowing slightly. “May I have the pleasure of this dance?”