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Chapter One
Victoria Burton bent her head over her needlepoint to look at a section a little more closely. She sighed when she realized she’d missed a stitch. She’d have to take everything out that had been done after the missed stitch and fix it if she really wanted it to be neat. Just as she reached for her scissors, the drawing room door slammed open. Her head snapped up as her brother, Lewis, the Viscount Landon, stalked into the room. She rose quickly, setting aside her work.
Lewis stalked to the sideboard, tossed down the letter he was holding, and poured himself a brandy. He downed it quickly and poured another.
For a moment, she stood there, frozen in indecision. Should she inquire what was wrong? When he downed the second glass of brandy just as quickly, she cleared her throat. “Lewis?”
Lewis’s head jerked up at his name on her lips. “Ah, Victoria. I hardly noticed you there.”
She folded her hands in front of her with a frown. “Is something the matter?”
He shook his head, cheeks reddening. “I have been giving your situation some consideration, sister. It is time you married.”
Victoria tensed. “I beg your pardon?”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “Yes, I have encouraged you for far too long in your romantic notions of falling in love, but you simply haven’t the luxury anymore. You must marry. In fact, you must marry by the end of the season, and if you do not find yourself a suitable husband by then, I will be forced to find one for you.”
Victoria dug her nails into her arms, trying to maintain a ladylike, civil tone when she replied. “Why the sudden concern for my marital state, Lewis? We have had an agreement since our dear parents’ passing that I would be able to marry for love rather than marrying in haste purely to secure a husband. I cannot see why that should change so suddenly or why you are being so intransigent!”
Lewis scowled at her. “You are behaving like a spoiled child, Victoria. You need no other reason than that I have said so. Either you find yourself a match, or, as head of household, I will make the arrangement for you. I do not need your permission to do so.”
She took a step back toward her chair, her hand rising to her throat. Tears welled. What was the matter with her brother today? He was not usually so casually cruel or harsh toward her. He had always been a loving, kind sort of man who had treated her well, as a woman with a mind worth fostering and not as an object to secure wealth, fortune, or convenience.
Her glance went to his pocket whether the letter rested. What had it contained? It could be the only plausible explanation for why Lewis was behaving so. He had been very distraught when he’d brought it in, after all.
“Is this about whatever was in the letter, Lewis?” she asked, trying her best to keep a wobble out of her voice. “I cannot understand your sudden change in behavior.”
Her brother’s scowl deepened. “Do not defy me, Victoria. Find yourself a match. That is all I have to say on the matter! It does not matter why I have changed my mind. Only that I have, and you are expected to obey as befits the fairer sex.”
She dropped into her seat as the weight of what he’d said settled in. Not once had Lewis ever told her to obey him purely because he was a man, and she a woman. Not once had he ever treated her as though her wishes were irrelevant because she was not a man.
“Lewis…”
He turned his back on her, grabbed the whiskey bottle and his glass, and stalked out of the room.
For a long moment, Victoria sat there and wrestled with her breathing, trying to calm her racing heart and hold the tears at bay. She shouldn’t cry over Lewis’s strange behavior. It wasn’t about her, really, was it? It was about that dreadful letter, whatever it had contained. Lewis would never treat her this way without some external pressure to do so.
What was in the letter didn’t really matter, though. She had more pressing concerns. Rising, she paced the length of the drawing room, biting at her thumb. It was a bad habit that her brother had constantly scolded her for and that her tutors had often punished her for, but she still fell back into it at times when the stress was too high.
“On the one hand,” she whispered to herself, struggling to process everything. “I want to cling to my independence. We had an understanding! He cannot simply toss it away like this.”
She paced some more, tears filling her eyes and beginning to fall. “On the other…” Her voice broke, and she sank into the window seat to stare outside forlornly. Maybe the answers would come to her from the rolling, well-manicured lawn of her brother’s London estate.
On the one hand was her independence, but on the other, she loved her brother and wanted to be loyal to him. She desperately wanted to prove that love by being a good sister and obeying his command.
Victoria had never really bothered herself with finding a match so much as with avoiding men she did not want to be tied to. Now, somehow, Lewis expected her to find a man she could tolerate, perhaps love, in one season and convince him to wed her. How she was to do that, she couldn’t imagine. She was not a great beauty, and she didn’t come from great wealth. Her only real charm was her wit and capacity to keep up with most men in conversation, but that hardly worked in her favor as a woman! Most men found it intimidating, and she’d always taken great delight in using it to fend off men she didn’t wish to be tied to. Now, though, it was the one thing that would hurt her most.
Sniffling, she scrubbed away tears and resigned herself to the fate that lay ahead. She would either find a man, or Lewis would find one for her. For now, there didn’t seem to be a third option that involved not marrying at all until she fell in love with the right man. She would gladly jump at the chance to have that third option, but she had to make do with what she had right then. How was she to go about doing so?
Chapter Two
The Marquess of Riverdon, Mark Devon, clasped his hands between his legs and sat on the settee of his family parlor while his mother, the Duchess of Riverdon, paced and lectured.
“Mark, you are to be the next Duke, and you must handle it in a manner befitting of the rank!”
“Yes, Mother.” Mark sucked in a breath to say more, to ask why he was sitting there being lectured about it to begin with, but she didn’t give him the moment to interject.
“Then—” She whirled on him and pointed a finger at his chest with a scowl. “Why have you not found a bride already and produced an heir for our lineage? Your father and I are not getting any younger, young man, and you are the most sought-after, eligible bachelor in all of London. Why, mothers call upon me weekly in an effort to curry my favor for their daughters to match with you! It has become quite exhausting!”
Mark swallowed back a retort and settled for a censuring frown. “Mother, I am quite old enough to decide for myself when to marry, and I assure you that I will marry when I have found the right woman. I wish to wed, but I have not found the right woman to stand by my side as the next Duchess of Riverdon. You would not have me place a woman in your shoes lightly for the sake of only an heir and a wife, would you?”
His mother glowered at him. “Do not use flattery or that tired excuse on me, Mark! I know full well how your tricks work.”
It was hardly a trick, though he didn’t dare tell her that. He genuinely did wish to marry, but he wasn’t willing to marry just any woman either. He wanted the right kind of woman. One who was smart, witty, and didn’t just cave to his every whim—like so many of society’s ladies would to be the right fit. The trouble was finding her.
“I will be making more of an effort to find you a match by the end of the season, and I will see to it that your father makes the arrangement whether you like it or not when I have. If you find a suitable match before I do, then I will be delighted to see you wed a woman of your own choosing. If not, I will not go into my old age without you securely wed and producing heirs. I want grandchildren, Mark.” She leaned on her cane with a sigh. “Is that clear?”
Mark bit back all of the dreadful things he wanted to say in response. His mother was only trying to help, and he knew that deep down. Somewhere very, very, deep down. He stood abruptly and bowed to her briefly. “Yes, mother, it is.”
Without waiting on her reply, he strode from the room as quickly as he dared. He couldn’t sit in that stifling space a moment longer, listening to her talk about making him a match, and he didn’t wish to say things he would ultimately regret.
Instead, he decided on a ride to clear his head, and a drink with his friend, Lewis. He’d been confiding in the other man since they were small children, and he could surely count on him to provide a sympathetic ear and perhaps a brandy. The Viscount Landon was currently in residence in London as well, and he always welcomed Mark’s visits.
As Mark rode through the streets of London toward his friend’s London estate, he began to calm enough to reflect on what his mother had said and demanded. He didn’t wish to marry just anyone, but there was someone he was fond of, at least. If he had to marry, could he propose a marriage of convenience to her? Good marriages had been built on less than fondness for one another. But no… She was his closest friend’s sister. Landon wouldn’t like it at all if Mark pursued Miss Burton, and she was younger than he was by enough to raise eyebrows.
Still, she was smart, witty, spirited, and kind. It didn’t hurt that she was quite lovely externally, too. While she didn’t think so and often brushed off compliments about her physical appearance, Mark found her rich chocolate brown hair, expressive brown eyes, and petite, willowy frame attractive and her personality a delight. He might not be in love, precisely, but he held a fondness for her. Still, could he surmount the obstacles of her brother, her own lack of love for him, and his own mother’s machinations, to marry Victoria?
He snorted at his silly train of thought. Victoria wanted to marry for love, and Landon intended to let her. Mark would only hurt her if he pushed for a marriage out of simple convenience. He didn’t have to be in love to know better. She was the kind of woman who deserved a man who would adore and cherish her, and as fond as Mark was of her, he wasn’t that man right now. He could likely become that man, but if, by some chance, he didn’t, Victoria would be terribly hurt. He wouldn’t risk hurting her by pretending he was in love with her… just to get out of marrying whichever vapid socialite his mother set her heart on.
Chapter Three
Victoria wandered the halls of her brother’s London estate aimlessly. She’d spent the whole afternoon trying to think of a way to make the best of it. She had tried to resign herself to making the best of her choices, but it simply hadn’t brought any comfort or peace. She was still on edge, and she had to speak to Lewis about it once more, if only to convince herself that she really had no choice.
Before she could knock on her brother’s study door, however, she heard voices coming from inside. Was that Marquess Riverdon that he was speaking with? She crept closer, though she knew better than to eavesdrop. It was Riverdon’s voice she’d heard drifting through the door.
She’d always liked Riverdon. He was kind to her when he visited, and he often asked her about her studies or what she was reading. He didn’t seem to mind at all that she could hold her own in conversations on typically masculine topics, and she loved that about him. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could come of the two of them. He was older than her by five years and her brother’s closest friend. Lewis would never allow it, and she couldn’t imagine that Riverdon saw her as anything other than a little sister he indulged happily.
Still, he was the picture of grace, elegance, and perfection. It wasn’t just his blond hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders that caught her eye. Those didn’t hurt, naturally, but it was more than that. It was his good-natured, courageous demeanor and delightful conversation that Victoria loved most. If it weren’t for all the things that kept him from being a suitable choice, she would solve her problem by catching his eye and trying to secure a match there.
It wasn’t an option, though. She sighed and paused to listen more closely to what Riverdon and Lewis were discussing. Would they be through soon so that she could speak to Lewis?
“…arranged multiple suitors to call upon Victoria. It is time she married. Past time, really,” Lewis told Riverdon.
Victoria’s heart seized. He’d done what? She was meant to have the season to sort this out herself! She wasn’t ready to marry just any man. Her heart hammered in her chest like a caged bird, mirroring how she herself felt. She would have to take drastic measures if this was Lewis’s intended approach to the problem.
“You sound like my own mother. My mother is quite insistent that I find a match. If I do not, my father is to find a match for me without my consent. Truly, it hardly bears imagining what sort of woman Mother will select for me. I have no idea what I will do about it. I can hardly defy my father if he arranges something, and I am certain Mother will manage to convince him of doing it, even if he would likely not press the matter himself.” The marquess groaned. “But I thought you had an agreement with your sister that she could find a love match.”
Lewis cleared his throat. “I had… But the luxury of time for waiting around for her to do so is gone. If I do not secure her future, she will be too old for marriage before I know it, and I cannot have that. This is for her own good, though you must think me a dreadful cad for it.”
Riverdon laughed. “Well, a cad perhaps not. Anyone would say you love Miss Burton dearly. I know you best, and I would say it, too. But I do pity her for it. It seems she and I are both destined to be forced into matches without our consent.”
“Oh, come now, Riverdon!” Lewis complained. “Really, do not be that way.”
“I only speak the truth, Landon. You know that.”
Victoria pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering in her chest. If the Marquess was in the same situation as she was, perhaps she could help him with his problem and he with hers. He was a friend, and he surely wouldn’t be opposed. It was obvious he didn’t wish to marry for convenience any more than she did, and so, they could be co-conspirators to avoid the dreadful situation all together. She just had to find a way to pose the plan to him in a convincing manner.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Scandalous Regency Affairs", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
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