A Duke’s Christmas Promise (Preview)

Chapter One

“Wouldn’t Christmas be the best time of year to fall in love?” Lady Aurelia Bartlett asked, as she swept around her family parlor, her arms raised as if she were dancing a waltz. The music from that night’s ball was still filling her head, and her feet moved lightly over the carpet as she pretended she was back in the ballroom, dancing with a handsome gentleman. 

Her mother and father, the Marquess and Marchioness of Thurston, who both sat reading in the corner, looked up at her, their expressions surprised. 

“At Christmastime?” Her father said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “But Christmas is a time for prayer and contemplation, not for falling in love, my dear.”

“Yes, and there are so many things one must do around the house,” her mother sighed. “Once you run your own estate, you’ll be too busy throwing balls and parties to find it romantic.”

“I will always think of Christmas as a romantic time,” Aurelia declared. “Although, I don’t know how many balls and parties, I’ll be throwing. I’d much rather turn my future home into a place of charity around Christmas. Perhaps my future husband and I can host dinners for the poor in our entrance hall. Or collect presents for the orphanages.”

Her father smiled at her over the top of his book. “It’s good to see that even in the hunt for a husband, you are still the same Aurelia you have always been,” he said fondly. “Always thinking of others first. 

Aurelia smiled at her father, then she stopped dancing and collapsed onto a sofa across from her parents. It was late, she supposed, and she ought to go to bed. After all, she’d had two glasses of champagne at the Winterson’s’ annual November ball, which was one more than a lady was expected to have. 

But she hadn’t been able to help herself. The Winterson’s’ ball had been a marvelous success, and she’d been having so much fun dancing. It should have exhausted her, but truthfully, Aurelia felt more awake than ever. 

She sat up and looked at her mother, who was still watching her thoughtfully. “Did you have a good time at the ball, Mama?” she asked. 

“It was a pleasant enough evening,” the Marchioness said with a shrug. “But dearest, you know I would rather be here at home with your father, reading or playing chess, then dancing until all hours of the night.”

Yes, Aurelia did know that. And it took everything in her not to sigh as her mother returned to her book. 

She was lucky; she knew. She had two kind, wealthy, and titled parents who loved her. They also loved one another, in their own way, which was rare among members of the ton. But while her parents might support her, they certainly did not understand her. The Marquess and Marchioness could not comprehend why she would rather be out dancing than reading; why she wanted to meet lots of gentlemen instead of simply entertaining the ones they chose; why she wanted to stay up all night talking with the best and brightest of London, instead of coming home and going to bed? 

It was Aurelia’s first Season, and so far, it had been a dream come true. She loved attending balls, musicales, and the opera, and every other event to which she was able to secure an invitation. And she had secured invitations to them all, much to her surprise and the envy of other debutantes     . She had even been issued a coveted voucher for Almack’s.

“It’s because of your pretty face,” one debutante had put it sourly. 

“And your personality!” another, kinder young lady had insisted. “You’re very charming, Lady Aurelia.”

Aurelia appreciated these comments and was honored to receive so many invitations. But sometimes she wished they didn’t come at the cost of the other young lady’s envy. It had been hard, this Season, for her to make friends, no matter how hard she tried. 

The only other downside of the Season so far had been the gentlemen. No, that wasn’t fair. There was nothing wrong with the men who had asked her to dance, sent her flowers, called upon her, and even asked for her hand in marriage. But most of them had displayed a shocking lack of depth and care for the outside world. 

“You are interested in charity work for the poor?” One gentleman had asked her, in shock, when he had called upon her. “But you are so young and beautiful! All the reformists I know are dreadful bores…”

It had offended Aurelia deeply that gentlemen thought she could only be one thing or the other: beautiful and charming, or smart and interested in the world around her. 

Her mother seemed to notice what she was thinking, because she said, “Did any of the gentlemen comment again upon the oddness of your interests?”

“No, not tonight,” Aurelia said. “They seem to have all gotten used to the idea that I am not just a pretty face.”

“I should think not!” her father said passionately. “We raised you to be an intellectual, not just a debutante!”

And that was true: Lord and Lady Thurston were true intellectuals. Her father was a renowned botanist, and her mother, who served as his secretary, had accompanied him on many of his missions to the far east to study plants, even after Aurelia was born. Many times, she had been left behind in the care of her aunt and uncle while her parents headed off for India, China, and other exotic places. 

Aurelia loved her parents dearly. From an early age, they had instilled in her the love of learning and the world outside the ton, and they had encouraged her interest in charity work. Thanks to them, she was a patron of one of the orphanages in London and sponsored young girls from poor families to get apprenticeships in respectable businesses. 

But her parents’ scholarly personalities could also be a hindrance. Her mother, who acted as her chaperone, never wanted to stay as late as Aurelia did, disapproved when she danced every dance, and was always turning down invitations because she was over-exerted. 

Aurelia needed a better chaperone. But with her aunt living in the countryside, and too far away to travel into London on a regular basis, there was little chance of that. 

As if reading her mind, her father suddenly looked up at her. “Oh Aurelia, I forgot to tell you this morning. A letter came from you. From your aunt.”

“From Aunt Mary?!” Aurelia leapt to her feet at once. “Oh Papa, where is it?”

“Here, here,” he said, reaching for the end table where he’d placed his spectacles. “Ah yes.” He handed her the letter, and Aurelia ripped it open. Immediately, the words inside it seemed to jump out at her. 

Dearest Aurelia, 

Seeing as how the Season will soon be on break until the New Year, I thought it best to get you out of London for the holidays. All of the ton will be in the countryside to celebrate Christmas, as you know, and since rumor has reached me that you are the ton’s most eligible debutante, I know you will benefit greatly from the lively dinner parties, Christmas fetes, and other spectaculars that will await you here—not to mention the many rich, titled gentlemen who keep to their country estates in the winter and will not return to London until the spring.

Do you think your dear mama and papa will allow you to slip away for a few weeks to visit your uncle and me here in Kent? I know it’s hard for them to part with you, but we would love to have your company during the Christmas season. Of course, you will attend all the best balls, soirees, musicales, and festivals that Kent can provide. 

I look forward to your response. 

Your loving aunt,

Mary

Aurelia squealed with excitement. “Oh Papa, Mama! She invites me to Kent for the Christmas holidays!” Aurelia was once more dancing around the parlor, all thought of retiring to bed gone. “Oh, please say I can go! It will be the most wonderful Christmas, snowy and beautiful, and there will be balls and parties every night!”

“Go to Kent for the holidays?” Her father looked so alarmed that he actually set his book down on the end table. “But dear… we always celebrate Christmas together…in Yorkshire.”

“I know,” Aurelia said, “but I am no longer a young girl, Papa. I am a woman now, on the hunt for a husband, and there is no better place to search for one than in Kent during the holidays. Aunt Mary is right. It is where all of society retreats to for Christmas, and there will be events throughout the season. London will be empty until January, maybe February. Everyone will be in Kent!”

Aurelia did not say what she was also thinking, which was that while she loved her parents, no one’s Christmas celebrations were more festive than Aunt Mary’s. Aurelia had spent many Christmases with her aunt in Kent while her parents were traveling until her father had inherited his country estate and moved them out to Yorkshire. She hadn’t been to Kent now in many years, and she missed her aunt’s holiday traditions dreadfully. 

“And I suppose you want to fall in love while you’re there, seeing as how you find Christmas so romantic,” the Marchioness said with a raised eyebrow. She turned to her husband. “We must face facts, my dear: our daughter is a twenty-year-old, and she hopes to make a love match, like my dear sister.”

“A love match?” The Marquess looked even more confused than ever. “Whatever for?”

The Marchioness shrugged. “Love… it’s very fashionable these days.”

Aurelia rolled her eyes, although she made sure her back was turned away from her parents before she did it. The Marquess and marchioness were very old-fashioned in certain ways. They had married because they had mutual interests, values, and families. While Aurelia knew they loved each other now. While many couples of the ton still married for similarly practical reasons, her mother was right; love was fashionable. At least, it was often the topic of the gossip sheets that Aurelia read in earnest every night before bed. 

Her mother’s sister, Mary, was the woman who had first set the gossip sheets ablaze when she had shocked her family by marrying for love. Lord Demlin was not below her station, but he was a bit eccentric and not the man her family had picked out for her. More than a few raised eyebrows had accompanied the match. 

Truthfully, Aunt Mary was Aurelia’s role model. She had made her own decisions when very few women did, and Aurelia hoped to be exactly like her. Aunt Mary was also her closest friend and confidant, although she hadn’t seen her in several months. Aunt Mary rarely spent time in town, preferring the peace and quiet of the countryside. She kept up a regular correspondence with Aurelia, though, and not a week went by when Aurelia didn’t receive a letter from her. 

“Let me see that letter,” her mother said, and Aurelia handed it to her. As she read, the Marchioness’s eyebrows went up. Finally, her mother looked back up at her. “She calls you the most eligible debutante of the Season! Upon my word, is that true?”

“Of course not!” Aurelia said at once, blushing scarlet. Although she also couldn’t deny that she received a large number of gentlemen callers. But those gentlemen called on all the young ladies, surely…? 

“But what of your peculiarities?” her mother asked.

“Gentlemen seem more amused by my ambitions to help others than offended by it,” Aurelia said, shaking her head. “Although one did say that he hoped my interest in charity would not distract from my duty of running his household.”

Her mother tutted, and her father looked scandalized. 

Aurelia didn’t mention that her large dowry was probably also to thank for gentlemen’s willingness to overlook her peculiarities, but she didn’t need to. Her parents had been the ones to ensure that she would be well taken care of when she married. 

“Then why can you not pick from among the men who have already shown an interest in you?” Her father demanded. “Surely one of your many suitors would make a suitable husband?”

“Oh, they are all boys!” Aurelia sighed, once more flopping down on the sofa. “I want to marry someone who shares my interests, Papa, and my passion for helping others—not just someone interested in my dowry and title.”

Her mother sighed as she set the letter down in her lap. “I think we ought to let her go, Albert,” she said, and she and her husband exchanged a long glance. “Otherwise, we shall not hear the end of it all winter.”

The Marquess did not look pleased, but at last, he relented. “Alright then. You have our blessing, Aurelia. You may write to your aunt and tell her to expect you next week at her home in Kent.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa! Thank you, thank you!” Aurelia squealed, and she stood and hastened over to him, throwing her arms around him. “And don’t worry, I will be on my best behavior. You won’t regret this, I promise you!”

“Famous last words,” her father muttered, picking back up his book and once more burying his nose in it. Aurelia, however, didn’t hear him. She had already gone to the writing desk, where she sat down to pen a quick reply to Aunt Mary. After dashing it off, she rushed upstairs to begin packing. Sleep could wait. For now, she had to think through every item of clothing she would need for Christmas in Kent. There would be holiday feasts, New Year’s Eve parties, and celebrations awaiting her in the winter wonderland she remembered from her childhood. And perhaps even a white knight to sweep her off her feet and make all her romantic dreams come true. 

 

Chapter Two

It was a cool, crisp day in late November when Aurelia arrived at her aunt and uncle’s country estate in Kent. Just a week had passed since she had received the invitation, but already the weather had gone from autumnal to hibernal. Winter was all around her. The leaves had changed entirely and almost all of them had fallen to the ground. Best of all, when Aurelia leaned her head out the carriage and took in the magnificent house nestled by a small pond, she could smell the scent of snow in the air. It would begin to snow soon, and with it would come all the magic of Christmas. 

When Aurelia dismounted from the carriage and was led into the hall by the butler. It was to be greeted by the hustle and bustle of a house preparing for a ball. Maids were cleaning, polishing, hanging decorations, and generally making the house festive, while footmen ran to and fro holding crates of champagne, baskets of food, candlesticks, and so many other things that Aurelia felt her head spinning. 

She had just removed her traveling cloak and handed it to the butler when she heard a shriek from the top of the stairs.

“Aurelia! You’re here!” She looked up to see her aunt at the top of the marble staircase, beaming. Aunt Mary looked exactly how Aurelia remembered: her long, silky black hair was swept up into a loose coiffure, her skin was pale and glowing, and her green eyes sparkled radiantly. She had high cheekbones, a proud nose and chin, and was slender and elegant. Aurelia thought her aunt the most beautiful woman in the world, which was lucky, because they looked very much alike. They both had silky black hair and green eyes, and many people had told them they had the same graceful elegance about them. Aurelia hoped that she would look exactly like Aunt Mary when she was her age. 

Aunt Mary hurried down the stairs and took Aurelia in her arms. “My dearest,” she gushed, kissing both her cheeks. “It has been too long!”

“Aunt Mary,” Aurelia said, hugging her tightly. “I have missed you so much.”

“Leave that there,” Aunt Mary said, gesturing at her portmanteaus. “The servants will bring them up to your room. For now, let’s go to my parlor. We can catch up over tea and cinnamon biscuits. I’ve had the cook prepare them specially for you.”

Aurelia’s heart seemed to swell in her chest. Tea and cinnamon biscuits had been her favorite as a girl, and she was touched that her aunt remembered. 

Once they were settled in the parlor, Aunt Mary leaned forward and said, “So, my dear, I must know the gossip: how has it been your first Season?”

Aurelia laughed. “You seem to know a little bit already. You said you’ve heard rumors that I am the most eligible debutante of the Season!”

“Whispers of your success in London have made it all the way to Kent,” Aunt Mary said, her eyes sparkling. “But I want to hear the details from you! And spare nothing. I am an old lady who has been married for many years, and I need fresh tails of courtship and illicit love to keep me feeling young!”

“Well, there has been nothing illicit,” Aurelia giggled. “But there have been many suitors.”

“Oh?!” Aunt Mary beamed. “And do you have any favorites so far?”

Aurelia thought about this as she took a bite of her biscuit. “Not really… There have been several young men I admire, even a few I like, but no one serious. They are all preoccupied with titles and wealth, and not with the further education of their minds.”

“I think it fortunate your parents waited until you were twenty for you to debut on society,” Aunt Mary said, “as it gave you the maturity to see through the more vacuous men of the ton.”

“I suppose so,” Aurelia said. “I don’t want to be harsh, but      not one has asked me about my work at the orphanage except to tell me that he disapproves and hopes a wife of his won’t be so preoccupied by matters that do not concern her.”

Aunt Mary made a disapproving noise. “They are boys, then,” she said empathetically. “Strong, secure men understand the importance of one’s own interests and academic pursuits. Look at your dear father… he loves and admires that your mother is not just his secretary, but his equal in botany.”

“Yes, well, I do hope my future husband is not a botanist. I’d like someone who is engaged with the outside world and it’s bettering, not caught up with his own singular academic interests.”

“I’m sure he will be,” her aunt said kindly. “Is that what you seek, then? A marriage to a man who shares your interests and worldview?”

“Yes, but I also want to feel passion. And so far, I have met no one who has made me feel, well, whatever it is you’re supposed to feel when you’re in love.” Aurelia bit her lip. She wasn’t actually sure what being in love felt like, although she longed for it with every fiber of her being.

“Ahh…” Aunt Mary sat back on the settee and smiled a secret, knowing smile. “So, you are looking for a love match?”

“Of course,” Aurelia said at once. “I want what you and Uncle Frederick have! I want to be in love. To feel what poet’s talk about, what writers describe in novels. I have never felt that. I don’t think…” Aurelia bit her lip. Was it possible she had felt love and just hadn’t realized it? She’d certainly been flattered by the attention of several suitors, and one or two had even made her heart hammer. They hadn’t been as civically minded as herself, but they had been handsome and charming. 

However, when they weren’t present, she quickly forgot about them, and none had delighted her enough that she could imagine spending her whole life as their wife. 

“Believe me, you would know,” Aunt Mary said, a twinkle in her eye.

“What does it feel like?” Aurelia asked, leaning forward. She knew her aunt wouldn’t judge her for asking. “What does it feel like to fall in love?”

Aunt Mary considered this. She took a long sip of her tea before responding. “Love is hard to describe, and there are many different phases of it. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced. At first, it’s like a lightning bolt. Like an illness. You cannot eat, you cannot sleep, you can think of nothing but him. And the pain of not knowing how he feels is agony. But if he loves you back, well…” Aunt Mary’s eyes had a far-away look in them that made Aurelia wild with envy. “That is the most exquisite feeling in the whole world.” 

“It sounds so glorious,” Aurelia said with a sigh. 

“It is,” Aunt Mary agreed, “but it can also be torture. No one can make you as happy as the person you love, but no one can make you quite as miserable, either. A fight with your love feels like the end of the world. But when things are well…” She smiled again. “And then there is the love that your uncle and I share now. It isn’t like it was when we were young and newly married. It is calmer, steadier. I do not feel the high highs and low lows I once did. But it’s also better. The feeling of security, of safety, and of companionship is second to none.”

“That’s very beautiful,” Aurelia said. “I want that more than anything.” And she meant it. As much as she wanted the lightning bolt her aunt spoke of, even more than that, she wanted the calm, steady love of long-term love. Because even after all these years, Aunt Mary’s cheeks had flushed as she spoke of her husband, and the look of pure adoration on her face made Aurelia’s heart ache. 

Aurelia sighed. “My parents don’t understand. They think I should find a practical match, like they did.”

“Your parents are very much in love,” Aunt Mary said, laughing lightly. “They just experience love very differently from you and me. They aren’t romantics, nor are they emotional creatures. They’re both steady and reserved. You and I, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say that the kind of love we feel is passionate. But we must be wary of it as well. Passionate love can burn hot and quickly. You want to make sure that the love you find doesn’t just flame out. You must sustain it through careful work, like tending a fire. Let it be a smoldering hearth, not a raging forest fire that dies as quickly as it began.”

Aurelia nodded. She would keep that in mind. “Do you think it unlucky that I didn’t find love in my first Season?” she asked. 

“Not at all!” Aunt Mary exclaimed. “The nerves of the first Season can get in the way of opening oneself up to love. And it’s good to be picky. You are still young, my dear, and beautiful and wealthy to boot. You have plenty of time. I predict that you will have great luck when you return to London in the spring. The Season will be in full swing then, and you’ll have a better idea of what you are looking for in a husband. Especially after being courted by several gentlemen and knowing what it is you aren’t looking for.”

Aunt Mary took a sip of tea, then smiled wickedly. “Of course, that is, if we don’t find you a husband here in Kent!”

Aurelia laughed and blushed. “Catch me up on the gossip, then. Are there any eligible gentlemen who have arrived in the countryside already?”

“Hmmm.” Aunt Mary considered this as she stirred her tea. “There are a few. The most promising, of course, is the Duke of Lindon. He is said to be back at his ancestral home, which is just three miles from here.”

“The Duke of Lindon…” Aurelia frowned. “The one whose engagement just–”

“Ended?” Aunt Mary finished the sentence for her. “The one and the same.”

This was intriguing news, and Aurelia’s heart began to pound at the thought of finally meeting the mysterious Duke of Lindon.

“There were so many rumors about him back in London,” she said, sitting forward in her chair and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “The gossip sheets were printing theory after theory about why his engagement came to such an abrupt and mysterious end. But no one knows the truth, of course.”

“No one except the Duke and his former fiancé,” Aunt Mary said. “I’ve heard rumors as well, but I try not to listen to them.”

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. She very much doubted this was true. Aunt Mary loved gossip. “Do you think he’ll be at any of the upcoming events? What about your ball? Do you think he’ll attend?”

“Perhaps. I sent him an invitation, of course, but while we are neighbors, the duke has always kept to himself. I don’t expect him to show. Even before the engagement ended, he was a touch reclusive. And now… well, he hasn’t made any appearances since the engagement was called off.”

“Yes,” Aurelia said pensively. “It does sound like a long shot. But I would like to speak with him, after hearing so much about him.”

“Well then,” Aunt Mary said, her eyes once more sparkling. “We will just have to contrive a way!”

***

The night of Aunt Mary and Uncle Frederick’s opening of the Christmas Season ball arrived with all the fanfare and opulence that Aurelia had come to expect from her aunt and uncle. Despite not living in town, they were natural hosts and loved to throw the most lavish parties imaginable. 

This one was no less spectacular, and as Aurelia swept down the marble staircase in a gown of emerald green, she couldn’t help but feel as if she had walked into a winter wonderland. 

The hall was stunning. It had been bedecked in garlands of holly, tinsel, paper snowflakes, and more candles than she could count, and was as beautiful as she remembered it being as a child. Of course, back then, Aurelia had been forced to go to bed long before the festivities began, but she would always stay up and, once the dancing started, sneak down the stairs to admire the decorations and, more importantly, the elegant guests. Now that she was finally old enough to attend the ball, Aurelia planned to dance the entire night away. 

The hall was already crowded with partygoers, and as Aurelia descended the stairs, she saw heads swiveling in her direction. Eyes seemed to be following her, and more than a few gentlemen gazed in awe at her for longer than was strictly appropriate. 

None of them, however, held Aurelia’s attention, as she found herself scanning the room for the duke. Although she had never met him, she had seen his likeness reproduced in several of the gossip sheets. And, of course, she had memorized a miniature of him when she first made her debut. Her mother might not be the most inclined to the marriage mart, but she’d still had the foresight to ensure her daughter knew the names, ranks, and fortunes of all the ton’s most important lords. 

However, the Duke was nowhere to be seen.

It didn’t take Aurelia long to realize that even in the countryside, she was the most eligible bachelorette. No sooner had she been announced, then young gentlemen were crowding around her, complimenting her dress, asking her for a dance, and offering to fetch her lemonade. Soon, her dance card was full, and as she swept around the ballroom in dance after dance, she barely even had time to talk to the other young ladies and their mothers. 

“Is anyone in particular courting you, Lady Aurelia?” One of these mamas asked her between dances, as Aurelia stood near the lemonade table, fanning herself and trying to catch her breath. It had been a particularly exerting country dance, and she had to recover her strength in time for her next dance, a quadrille with the particularly handsome Lord Anthony Rutledge, who was the eldest son and heiress to the Marquess of Thurle.     

“No one in particular at the moment,” Aurelia admitted. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“Just don’t wait too long,” the mama said, grimacing slightly. “My Katherine was popular during her first Season, too, and rejected several offers because she was sure someone better would come along. Now she’s three years on the shelf with no prospects.”

Aurelia’s stomach clenched, and she forced herself to smile politely. It was horror stories like this that sometimes made her wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. For all Aurelia’s hopes of making a love match, she wasn’t so foolish as to think she could hold off on marrying forever. She knew what happened to young ladies who never married. But she didn’t like to be reminded of it. 

Fortunately, Lord Anthony Rutledge      chose that exact moment to appear by her side. 

“Are you ready to dance, my lady?” he asked, bowing low over her hand. 

“Indeed,” she said, setting her lemonade down rather hard on the table and taking his hand quickly. “Let us dance.”

Lord Rutledge was a good dancer, and, perhaps more importantly, very handsome. Far more handsome than any of the other men she had danced with that evening. And when his hands met hers on the dancefloor, she felt her heart flutter. 

“The ball is well-attended tonight, my lord, don’t you agree?” she asked, to make polite conversation. “I was surprised to see so many familiar faces outside of London.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Lord Rutledge      said in a bored voice, sniffing slightly as he glanced around. “Although very few people of the finest pedigree are here. But it is only natural for a country dance. These things do not attract the most illustrious peers of the realm. Present company excluded, of course.”

Aurelia smiled tightly. While she supposed he had paid her a compliment by excluding her from his criticisms, she had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that he’d just insulted her aunt’s ball. And while he was right, that country dances were not as populated by those peers with the more noble titles, what did it matter? Aurelia considered good company to be people who were kind, compassionate, intelligent, and thoughtful. She didn’t care about whether or not someone had a title or was of the finest pedigree. Unfortunately, most of the men she met were like Lord Rutledge, and only concerned with titles, fortunes, and rank. 

At last, the dance ended, and although Lord Rutledge      offered to bring her another lemonade, Aurelia declined. She needed a moment or two by herself, free from the company of snobbish men who only paid attention to her because she was the daughter of a Marquess. 

The musicians decided then to take a break as well, and Aurelia seized on the lull in the dancing to make her way over to the centerpiece that her aunt had had specially crafted and delivered for tonight’s ball: a giant, ornate ice sculpture in the midst of the refreshment tables. 

After making sure that Lord Rutledge      wasn’t around, Aurelia poured herself a glass of lemonade. She then stood back and looked up at the ice sculpture. It depicted an angel lifting a trumpet to its lips, as if heralding the birth of baby Jesus, and as she looked at it, Aurelia felt a calm go over her. It was nice to feel this peace and quiet amidst all the chaos. 

And then, so suddenly that it completely knocked her off balance, someone ran right into her. Aurelia’s glass went flying, and, to her horror, her lemonade spilled all over her dress, leaving a large wet stain right down her front. A split second later, she heard the glass fall to the ground and shatter. But she barely had time to think about this, because at the same moment, she lurched and fell forward, hurtling towards the ice sculpture. Her stomach fell out of her. 

I’m going to slam right into it! In front of all these people!

Aurelia closed her eyes, threw her hands out, and waited to hit the ice. Except she never did. Instead, she felt a pair of large, strong arms wrap around her and stop her fall. She opened her eyes cautiously. Her face was inches from the sculpture, so close that she could feel the cold of the ice radiating out of it. 

But she was safe. The arms were so strong and sure that she knew, without a shadow of the doubt, that they wouldn’t let her fall. 

Slowly, whoever was holding her pulled her back, righting her, until she was once steady on her feet. Only then did the arms loosen a little, and then large, sure hands were turning her around to face her rescuer. 

Aurelia looked up and found herself face-to-face with the most handsome men she had ever seen in her life. 

The man was tall, with long dark hair that fell somewhat rakishly in front of his eyes. His face was hard and masculine, with a chiseled jawline, and his complexion was dark and weathered, something that was unusual for a gentleman. He looked as if he had ridden outside in the sun more often than was considered genteel. But the look suited him. It made him appear wild and mysterious. Aurelia had never seen someone who looked like that. 

At the same time, the man was dressed impeccably in a black velvet suit jacket and a precisely starched lily-white cravat. So, she also knew that while he might look like the ruffian romantic hero out of a harlequin novel, he was, in fact, of the highest breeding. 

But even if Aurelia hadn’t noticed any of these other things about him, she would have noticed his eyes. They were dark brown, but with flecks of red and gold in the irises, and they seemed to burn with a fiery intensity she had never seen before. They were eyes that seemed to hold great pain and great passion, and they were now looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. 

His hands were still around her, she realized. One was holding her elbow, while the other had stayed firmly on her waist. She was uncomfortably aware of them, of how tightly they held her. At the same time, she didn’t want him to ever let go. 

He rescued me, she thought weakly. Like a white knight, come to my rescue. 

Aurelia breathed in, and the scent of him—clove and tobacco, masculine and warm—washed over her, setting all her senses aflame. He was still staring at her, unsmiling, but a heat seemed to spread from him, and his eyes smoldered. She knew then that she wasn’t imagining it: the man felt the chemistry that sizzled between them. 

“My lord,” she murmured, and she wasn’t surprised to hear how breathless she sounded. “Thank you.”

“Not at all,” the man said. His voice was deep and warm, like dark chocolate. “It was my fault.”

At last, he released her, and Aurelia felt the absence of his hands acutely. His eyes, she realized, were no longer smoldering. If anything, they now seemed remote and distant. 

“Please, accept my apologies,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I nearly caused you disaster.”

“There is no need to apologize,” she said at once. “I would consider it apology enough if you would enlighten me–” but before she finished the sentence, the man nodded again, turned, and walked away. 

“–as to the identity of my rescuer,” she finished, somewhat lamely. She stood there, with her mouth slightly open, watching as the man disappeared into the crowd. Never before had a man walked away from her mid-sentence! And without even introducing himself! It was unconscionable. 

Anger, embarrassment, and intrigue immediately surged through her. Part of her wanted to run after the man and demand he apologize for his rudeness. Another part of her wanted to disappear on the spot and never be seen again. 

“Aurelia!” She turned at the sound of her name to see her aunt rushing towards her, looking distraught. “My dear, are you alright? I saw you almost run headlong into the ice sculpture!”

“I’m alright,” Aurelia said. “My dress, however, is ruined.” She looked down at the wet spot on the front and felt another flush of embarrassment. 

“That is easily amended,” Aunt Mary said quickly. She took Aurelia by the shoulders and peered into her eyes. “You do know who that was, don’t you? The man who bumped into you?”

“Er–”

“It was Thomas Fitzroy, Duke of Lindon!”

Aurelia gaped at her aunt, then quickly remembered to shut her mouth. Ladies did not stand around looking dumbfounded. But she was truly shocked. Despite having seen likenesses of him, she hadn’t recognized the duke. In pictures, he was handsome but cold. In real life, he burned with so much heat that it seemed to make him a different person. 

I finally met the duke, she thought dully. And looked like a clumsy fool in the process. Nor was he the gentleman I expected him to be.

“Well, he was very rude,” she said, trying to sound more annoyed than flustered. She felt so strange: rejected and angry, excited and baffled, and the emotions made her feel unsettled. “He didn’t even introduce himself and left while I was in the middle of thanking him.”

To her surprise, her aunt laughed. “Well, the Duke of Lindon isn’t exactly known for being warm and fuzzy. He’s brooding, stand-offish, and unwelcoming. The fact he caught you at all and didn’t let you tumble into the ice sculpture is miracle enough.”

Aurelia scowled. She had expected much better from the duke about which she’d heard so much. 

“Come dear, let’s get you changed into a new dress,” Aunt Mary said, ushering her away from the ice sculpture. “And don’t worry about the Duke of Lindon. He’s a curmudgeon, and nothing will change that.”

“I don’t care about him,” Aurelia declared, making a decision then and there. “I don’t care about him one jot!”