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  “Lady Diana,” he called out for the second time that day, but she didn’t hear him. She kept walking toward a booth that sold meat pies. She happily talked to the man running it and purchased one. “Bloody hell,” he cursed and pushed past some villagers trying to reach her side. There were too many people at the fair to move at a faster pace.

  Diana wandered off speaking with a lot of the villagers as she passed. Where was her escort? How could her father let her run wild at the fair unchaperoned? Didn’t they care about her safety? She stopped to watch a boy throw balls into the basket of a game. If the lad won he’d win a sweet treat for each basket he landed a ball in—the grand prize was four jam tarts.

  He was mere steps away from her when she decided to move again. His frustration grew with each second that passed. He reached out and managed to clasp his hand around her upper arm. She jerked backward and nearly stumbled to the ground. “My apologies,” he said a little breathlessly. “I’ve been trying to gain your attention. I didn’t mean to cause you harm.”

  She glanced up and frowned. Her meat pie had tumbled to the ground and was now covered in dirt. “What was so urgent you had to be so rough?”

  He was an arse… “I wanted to speak with you about the gypsy.” That hadn’t come out quite how he wanted it to. It was gruff and rude. “and why you’re wandering about by yourself. Don’t you have a care for your reputation?”

  She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists at her side. After several heartbeats she opened her eyes and glared at him. Where she’d been kind and understanding earlier she now displayed a full array of anger. “Allow me to understand this correctly.” She held a finger out. “You placed your hand on my arm and made it so I lost my afternoon meal to berate me for not having a care for my reputation?”

  “That should be an example of why you shouldn’t be alone. Anything can happen to a young lady if they don’t take proper care of their safety.” He puffed out his chest. That should teach her that she shouldn’t argue with someone who knew better than she did. “Your father shouldn’t have allowed you to leave Bristol Manor without a maid at your side at the very least, but you really should have a footman with you. The crowd is dangerous.”

  “You’re the only dangerous person near me,” she nearly spat out. “I was perfectly fine before you accosted me. I’ve attended this fair since I was a girl—”

  “You’re still a girl,” he interrupted her. “Some gentleman would find your innocence too enticing to pass up.”

  “But you’re not one of them?” She lifted a brow. “No need to explain, my lord. I realize I’m no great beauty. If you’re done berating me for my lack of accompaniment I believe I need to replace my meal.”

  She turned to leave but he couldn’t allow it. How could she not understand that she shouldn’t be alone? Why didn’t she take him seriously? “Wait,” he yelled. “You shouldn’t…”

  She spun on her heals and faced him. “I don’t need you watching over me Lord Northesk. Go away.”

  “The lady doesn’t seem to like you.” The female gypsy’s accent echoed through her ears. “Do as she says.”

  It wasn’t his day. He should never have come back to the fair. He glanced over his shoulder and met the violet eyes of the gypsy that had been on stage earlier. She had her rapier at her waist and she definitely knew how to use it.

  “Lady Di doesn’t need a male to dictate to her.” She stared at him from top to bottom as if she’d found him lacking. “Especially, one who would rather order her about instead of treasure her.”

  “Who are you to condemn me?” He glared. “A gypsy who doesn’t have a home to call her own.”

  “At least I have honor,” she said. “You’re lacking in something more fundamental than I am.”

  Lady Diana stepped between them. “Please leave, Lord Northesk. I have business with Lulia that doesn’t involve you.”

  Luther left, but not because either women ordered it. Lady Diana was safe in Lulia’s care. She’d be able to dispatch any ruffians with a flick of her rapier. He might not like the gypsy, but she had talent. He couldn’t help worrying about Lady Diana Thompson though. Something about her made him want to protect her and make sure nothing ever harmed her in any way. He didn’t want to think too hard on his motivations. He already had a great deal swirling through his mind from the responsibilities he inherited upon his father’s death. Finding Love or building relationships? Those seemed impossible… Ladies of Diana’s caliber were out of his reach and would be for the unforeseeable future. It would be best if he kept his distance and let her find her own way. Regardless, he didn’t have anything to offer her.

  Chapter One

  London, 1812

  The sky darkened as Diana stepped out of her family’s townhouse. She would have to make haste to beat the rain already threatening to fall. It was the day of her birth and she was now two and twenty. There had been a time when she’d been excited to celebrate this particular day, but the joy had died a long time ago. With each passing year she’d had to accept her fate as first a wallflower, and now a spinster. Technically, she wasn’t one yet, but why deny the truth of it? She was everything ladies of the ton dreaded—wallflower, bluestocking, and a spinster in the making. There was one marked difference though. Diana welcomed all those titles and used them to her advantage. She loved the person she’d carved herself into. No, she wouldn’t celebrate the day she’d been born into the world. There was something far more important that she commemorated—the day she’d taken charge of her future. That day had been six years ago when she’d met Lulia.

  She glanced upward again and cursed under her breath. Diana had a whole slew of bad habits properly bred women didn’t generally partake in. Cursing was only one of the blasphemous things she did and never apologized for; although, she did know when to hold in the urge to mutter some of them aloud. It was safe enough walking to the modiste shop. There was no one from high society around to see her, and therefore, judge her. For the most part she did whatever she liked—within reason. Society didn’t easily forget scandalous transgressions. She liked skirting the edge of impropriety but she couldn’t afford to be cut from the good graces of the ton. Her finances depended on her ability to fit into society balls seamlessly.

  Diana turned down the street that led to Madame Debroux’s modiste shop. When she reached the shop she checked around her before she went to the rear and entered Fortuna’s Parlor. At this time of day she didn’t want to use the secret entrance inside and disturb the modiste’s normal customers. She didn’t have the excuse that she needed any more frocks and didn’t feel like using the pretense. Once she reached the second floor she headed to the office and rapped on the door before she entered. Narissa sat staring at the club’s books and nibbling on her lip.

  “Are you busy?”

  She glanced up and blew out a breath. “Not at all.” Narissa closed the book. “Just double checking the numbers. Is everything set up for the fencing match tonight at the Silverton ball?”

  “I’m meeting Lulia in the backroom shortly to go over the final details. She has one last training session with Bessie today before the match tonight. The betting books are going well with the odds in favor of her. If she loses tonight it’ll be an upset.”

  Narissa nodded. “Let me know if you need me to do anything. I will not be attending tonight. I need to oversee the club.”

  Diana tilted her lips upward. “I’ll be fine. Lulia will be there and she’s fearless.”

  “Your gypsy is more than fearless—she’s intractable. I almost feel sorry for any man that dares to love her.”

  Diana had to agree there. Lulia had no qualms about telling anyone what she thought of them and didn’t shy away from any challenge. Only a few years separated them in age, but Lulia was wise beyond her years. Sometimes, Diana envied her friend the freedom she had. She could be anything she wanted to be and go anywhere she wanted. Lulia didn’t answer to anyone; whereas, Diana had too many people dic
tating her affairs. One day she would have everything she’d ever wanted. She just had to remain patient and keep to her plan. Once she had enough money saved up she’d open up a school for girls. One that taught more than deportment and sewing—ladies needed more skills than that for life.

  “You’re not incorrect,” Diana agreed. “Lulia won’t settle for just any man. He’s going to have to be as strong as she is—that is if she ever deigns to settle down. I don’t believe she is in a hurry to find a husband of any sort.”

  Sometimes Diana wished she would have found someone. Not just for her to love, but for a man who loved her in return. She didn’t want to marry for the sake of having a husband though. If she ever said vows of forever it had to mean something. Searching for something so elusive seemed impossible. If she ever found it… She shook the thought away. Wishing wasn’t going to make it happen and she’d stopped being a fool a long time ago.

  “You don’t stumble on a good man every day,” Narissa said wistfully. “I may have found the last decent one in the ton.”

  “You could be correct.” Narissa had married the Duke of Blakely and they were blissfully happy. “If you’ll pardon me I must go and meet with Lulia now.”

  “Very well,” Narissa said and shooed her away with a flick of her hand. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

  Diana slid out of the office and went to the backroom where they practiced the fencing matches. She found Lulia and Bessie already inside. Lulia had her midnight locks plaited into a long braid that fell to the middle of her back. She didn’t wear any protective clothing as she ran Bessie through the lesson. Bessie wouldn’t have any protective clothing on later at the match, but now had it on as she practiced. She didn’t want any injuries to prevent the match later. Everyone in the fencing program took their lessons seriously. Fencing wasn’t something that they were given the opportunity to learn often. It wasn’t a sport a lady could easily find an instructor for, and it was a passion that consumed Diana since her sixteenth summer.

  Lulia and Bessie parried—their blades slid against each other. The metal clanged and echoed throughout the room. Diana sighed as they continued to float around the room in a dance of arms, feet, and foils. Maybe after this match was done she’d take the time to fence with Lulia. It was a sport she dearly loved and took every opportunity to partake in. Finally, after several moments the match ended. Bessie and Lulia were both breathless, but their smiles were wide and joy nearly poured off of them.

  “You’re not so bad,” Lulia told Bessie. “You might win.”

  Diana clapped her hands. “She’s better than that. There’s no question she’ll beat Lady Mary.”

  Lady Mary Addington gambled freely at Fortuna’s Parlor. Her father spoiled her rotten and she’d been trained by a fencing master. She’d bragged that she could beat anyone with a foil, and Bessie had leapt to the challenge. This wasn’t the first fencing match Diana had arranged, but it was one of the more meaningful ones. Bessie was Mary’s lady’s maid. If Bessie won Mary would settle a small fortune on her and she’d be able to retire to the country. If she lost then she’d be dismissed without references. There hadn’t been a more important match since Diana had started them. Bessie was taking a huge risk and if it paid off—the reward would be monumental.

  “I’m ready,” Bessie declared. “Even if I lose this was worth it.”

  Diana wanted to tell Bessie that she’d make sure she found another position if she lost, but held back. She’d fight harder if she thought she had everything to lose. If she did fail then Diana would offer to secure her a new position. It was far better if she kept that offer to herself unless it was needed.

  “I’m glad you believe that,” Diana told her. “Because it might be what you have to hold on to after this night is done.” She turned to Lulia. “Is everything ready for the match tonight?”

  “I have a maid that is making sure all of our equipment is set up in the middle of the Silverton garden.” She smiled. “And a footman that has agreed to assist her if needed.”

  Lulia had probably flirted him into compliance. She was rather beautiful and most men found her irresistible. “Wonderful. I’ll see you both there.” She turned to leave and allow them more time to practice. This was what she did, and for the first time since she started it she had an empty feeling in the bottom of her stomach. She should be excited, and yet, she couldn’t shake the feeing something was missing. Diana didn’t regret her life choices. How could she when she’d accomplished so much?

  “Diana,” Lulia called out to her. “Wait. There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

  She stopped and turned toward her friend. In some ways Lulia had everything. She shouldn’t resent her friend; however, she couldn’t help it. Sometimes it didn’t matter if something made sense or not—it just was. “Yes?”

  Lulia came over and pulled her into a hug. “You look sad, little one. What is bothering you?”

  Maybe it did mater that today was the day she’d been born after all. Perhaps that was why she was so bloody melancholy. No one had taken note of it or even went so far as to wish her a good day. “It’s nothing.” Diana didn’t want to burden her friend. There was no reason to remind anyone that today was somehow supposed to be special. It was foolish of her to want someone to remember it.

  “Somehow I doubt that” Lulia smiled. “But we will dismiss it for now. I have something for you.”

  Lulia walked over to the corner where her cloak laid on a chair. She reached underneath it and pulled out a small box, then carried it over to Diana. “This isn’t much but I wanted you to have a treat to celebrate your day.”

  “I didn’t think anyone remembered…”

  “I don’t forget anything.” Lulia tapped her head. “Nothing escapes once it is stored up here. They’re sweet meats from that shop you like so much. Don’t eat them all at once or you’ll end up with a stomach ailment.”

  “You’re a good friend.” She’d never had one better. The only other female she had a close relationship was Lady Katherine Wilson. They’d met at finishing school and were wallflowers together. They’d followed her to Fortuna’s parlor and became a part of the group. “Thank you for this.” She held up the box of sweet meats. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Bah.” Lulia waved her hand. “Do not thank me. It’s nothing.”

  “It isn’t.” Her own family didn’t acknowledge her anymore. Her parents didn’t even come to London. They preferred the country and sent her off with a maid as a chaperone. She didn’t mind really. It allowed her the freedom to run her fencing matches, but sometimes it was rather lonely.

  “Go do whatever ladies do before balls. I must run through some more practice with Bessie. She needs all the help she can get.”

  Diana’s smile widened. She wouldn’t say thank you again. Lulia was well aware how much Diana appreciated her. She wouldn’t accept any more of her gratitude. “Very well. I’ll take your leave and allow you to practice. Don’t tire her out too much. We need her at her best tonight.”

  Lulia leaned down and whispered, “She’ll be excellent, but don’t tell her I said so. Wouldn’t want it to go to her head. She needs to remain a little humble for a bit longer. It’ll make her a better fighter.”

  Diana laughed. “Mum’s the word.” She held her finger to her lips. “Your secret will be safe in my care.”

  With those words Diana left the room and exited the ladies’ gaming hell. Fortuna’s parlor would be bursting with activity and filled with ladies of all classes. The secret gaming hell was her haven, and she never regretted becoming involved with it. Now she had to return to the town house and prepare for the evening’s activities. The fencing match had to go off without a hitch. Bessie’s future depended on it.

  Chapter Two

  Luther stared at the ledger on his desk and frowned. The numbers swam before his eyes and blurred into a mess of nothingness. He had no stomach for going over the accounts of his estate at the moment
or any moment if he were honest with himself. Unfortunately, it came with being in charge of several properties and inheriting the title of Earl of Northesk. His father would be disgusted with the man he’d turned into. Most days were spent at his club for the purpose of drinking brandy and a bit of sport. Ever since he’d come to London years ago he’d done nothing productive and could be found more often inebriated than not. Brandy helped numb his pain and he hadn’t seen any reason not to imbibe as much as possible. Maybe he should re-evaluate his life choices, but he was having trouble deducing why he should.

  He picked up an invitation and twirled it in his hand. Perhaps he should go to a society function instead of his club. The words blurred a little on the card before him. Luther scrunched his eyes together to bring them into focus—ah the Silverton ball. He hadn’t attended any functions in quite a long time and he was surprised anyone thought to invite him to them anymore. They were probably hoping he’d choose to attend their function and have boasting rights. They all knew at some point he’d have to figure out his life and in turn, search for a lady to marry. The title would die with him if he didn’t and he wouldn’t let his father down. He’d already done too much to make him turn in his grave.

  The decanter of brandy sat in front of him. He lifted it up and filled his goblet up to the top. No two fingers for him when it would be gone far too quick. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered pouring it at all. Drinking straight from the source would make more sense. He was the man he’d been raised to be and gentlemen were not so coarse as to drink straight from a decanter. Those habits were left to the lower classes. He might be foxed often enough that he clipped the King’s English with regularity, but he hadn’t stooped so low as to join the common folk.

  He stared down at the invitation once again. A ball might be just the thing he needed. Luther set the invitation down and stood. If he were going to attend a society function he would have to change—and pray he sobered up enough before he arrived. Otherwise he’d make a complete fool of himself. If he were going to his club it wouldn’t matter as much. The patrons expected a little bit of abnormal behavior. Hell, if he didn’t imbibe large amounts of brandy it would be considered odd.