The villa where they’d once lived had belonged to Gaia’s grandfather, but when he passed on eight months ago, a cousin inherited and wrote to Gaia’s mother to inform her that she would need to find other lodgings if she and her daughter wished to return to Italy. The letter had arrived with crates of their belongings. He had never approved of Gaia and her mother residing in Florence while Father and Angelo lived in England. This was his way of forcing Mother to live with her husband.

  “I never did like that cousin,” Gaia grumbled.

  “Be that as it may, I will see your brother reformed so that he can find a respectable bride. And you will not hide because your father and I expect you to make a match as well.”

  Gaia said nothing as it would do little good to argue. However, she had no intention of allowing a match to be made for her. If she could not feel love and passion for a gentleman, then she refused to wed.

  Zachariah Radburn, Marquess of Lydell, had attempted a London Season only because he had hoped to see Lady Gaia once again. However, within a sennight, the chill of the reception he received had him returning to Bath.

  It was likely he’d not be welcomed in Society for a few more years. Apparently, the ton had long memories and still recalled how his cousin had terrorized women, though they forgot that Zachariah hadn’t even lived in England at the time. He was simply guilty by association, having inherited his cousin’s title.

  Not that it mattered all that much to Zachariah, but it would one day. Hopefully, memories would fade over the next sixteen years, by the time Alice, his cousin’s daughter, had her first Season.

  Though the cool reception could also have been because he was an American, but as Zachariah had no control over what his cousin had done, nor where he’d been born, he made no apologies.

  It was not much better in Bath, where the estate he’d inherited was located, but he had made a few friends. One of those being the Earl of Bolton, who didn’t care what anyone thought, nor judged a person on relations.

  It was also Bolton who had secured Zachariah an invitation to the Courtesan Christmas Ball. His friend had been more scandalized by the fact that Zachariah had been in England for more than a year and hadn’t taken a lover than anything the former Lydell may have done.

  Zachariah hadn’t meant to confess he’d gone so long without a woman, but he and Bolton had been deep in their cups one evening and Zachariah had asked his opinions of the brothels and women within.

  “It’s not a brothel you need, my friend, but a mistress,” Bolton had insisted.

  A mistress had been Zachariah’s preference, as it had been in America, but he wasn’t certain how to go about meeting one in England when he was nearly shunned by Society.

  Thus, the invitation to the ball.

  He lifted the glass of brandy to his lips and studied the occupants in the room. The women with a red bow around their neck were in search of a protector. Those without, were already claimed.

  Zachariah hadn’t been certain what to expect this evening, but other than bodices that were cut daringly low, one would think they were attending any other Society ball.

  “Do you see anyone you like?” Bolton asked with a grin.

  “Many,” Zachariah admitted. Though if he selected someone, it would be based on more than appearance. While he may wish for a mistress for intimacy, he also sought someone he could have a conversation with. Someone that he liked to be with, not just enjoy bedding. Though he wasn’t certain if Bolton would understand, even if Zachariah tried to explain. His former mistresses had also been nearly friends, and he missed the companionship of simply talking and sipping wine before retiring to the bedchamber.

  “Darling, are you going to dance with me this evening?” a blonde woman approached and practically pressed herself against Bolton and pouted. “Especially since you are going to abandon me for a fortnight, and even on Christmas.”

  Zachariah hated it when women attempted manipulation to get their way.

  “I promise to spend much of the evening with you, Amante. I must first assist my friend so that he does not make a poor choice.”

  The woman frowned and looked about the room. “Yes, unfortunately there are a few of those.” Then she turned back to Bolton and traced a line down his cheek with the tip of her finger. “Do not be too long.”

  Bolton watched as she strolled away. “Amante?”

  “Italian for lover,” Bolton answered.

  Italy reminded him of Lady Gaia, not that she’d been forgotten. The coming Christmas Eve would be spent much different than the last as he would likely spend it quietly at home, and unfortunately alone.

  “Why won’t you see your mistress for a fortnight?”

  “My parents and sister have come to Bath, and they have planned several entertainments. I am to remain home and be respectable.” He laughed. “I’ll secure an invitation for you to attend the ball, though it will likely be dull.”

  While Zachariah would like to accept, he didn’t want to suffer through another ball where he was practically ostracized.

  “I didn’t know that you had a sister.” In fact, Bolton barely mentioned parents and with that, Zachariah realized that he knew little of his friend’s background.

  “She is seven years younger than me,” Bolton answered. “Had you attended the Season last spring you may have met her, but you left before it was truly underway.”

  Bolton knew Zachariah’s reasons, though insisted he should have stayed until everyone had arrived, but Zachariah had had enough of the judgement from the ones who were there.

  Chapter Two

  Gaia waited all morning for her brother to wake and was beginning to wonder if he was going to sleep all day when Angelo finally made his way down the stairs where he requested coffee.

  She eyed him carefully to determine if he was in good spirits or still not fully recovered from a night of indulgence.

  His eyes weren’t red, nor was he wincing at the light. In fact, there was nearly a spring in his step, therefore, she determined that he was not suffering, thank goodness.

  “We must make a plan,” she said after he’d taken his first sip of coffee.

  “Mother already has a plan, as she informed us yesterday.”

  “You do realize that she intends to see us both wed as expediently as possible, don’t you?”

  He snorted. “There is nothing our parents can say or do to convince me to marry anyone, nor do they have the power to force me into any union.” Angelo smiled at the maid who brought a breakfast plate to him. She, in turn, blushed and hurried from the room.

  “However, they do have power over what is to become of you,” he warned before he bit into a slice of buttered bread.

  “That is why I need your assistance, a plan.”

  For a moment he studied. “Why did you settle amongst the wallflowers? I’ve never understood.”

  “Yet you never bothered to ask until now?” she rebuked.

  Perhaps if he would have remained at any ball above an hour, and by her side, she might have met those she could befriend and become more comfortable with, but Angelo couldn’t be bothered. He either disappeared into the gaming room, out into the gardens with a beautiful woman, or left to visit a club or his mistress. The one thing he did not do was remain to support her.

  He sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Tell me now.”

  “I didn’t know anyone outside of family.”

  He frowned. “Why should that matter? The Season is an opportunity to meet others. You were never shy in Italy.”

  Angelo didn’t understand why it was so trying. Nothing was ever difficult for him. He’d been handsome, charming and confident from the cradle.

  “I know the gentlemen in Italy. I know who is seeking an heiress, who is married, who only wants seduction and who is seeking a wife,” she informed him. “I enjoyed entertainments in Italy because I knew everyone and when introduced to someone new, I was able to quickly determine their reason for pursuing me. Unfortunately, those who wanted a wife were of no interest.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you’ve allowed yourself to become a wallflower in England.”

  “English gentlemen are different, and they were all strangers. I know nothing about them, nor can I judge what they wish to gain from any association with me.”

  “I could tell you,” Angelo offered, which only made her angry.

  “Well, you didn’t. Nor did you remain at any ball long enough for me to ask. You left as soon as you’d spent enough time so as not to be scolded by Mother.”

  If only he would have been by her side, then the Season would have been so much easier. But the one gentleman she trusted to tell her the truth had fled at the first opportunity.

  “I am sorry, Gaia.” Sincerity filled Angelo’s eyes as he sat forward. “I wish you would have said something sooner.”

  “I am telling you now, which is why you must not abandon me when Mother has guests arriving daily.”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  At least she wouldn’t be left on her own and hopefully, she would be able to enjoy the holidays without hiding in the shadows.

  Zachariah startled when Bolton marched into his library without being announced.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Bolton pulled back. “That’s not a very warm welcome.”

  “My apologizes,” Zachariah muttered but the man had intruded on him unexpectedly and without invitation, not that he truly minded.

  “I need your assistance,” Bolton blurted out.

  The statement took Zachariah by surprise. “What has happened?”

  “I’ve failed my sister.”

  Zachariah couldn’t imagine how. Then again, he hadn’t even known that Bolton had a sister until last evening.

  “She’s turned into a wallflower,” the man complained. “All because I was not by her side to introduce her to proper gentlemen last Season. She further trusted that I’d warn her of rogues and scoundrels, but since I had not, she failed to trust anyone.”

  “You can easily fix your failing by introducing her to gentlemen at the ball your parents are hosting.” Zachariah assumed there would be several guests, including bachelors.

  “I need to remedy the situation before then,” Bolton insisted. “I thought to introduce her to some bachelors before the ball, then they would already be familiar.”

  Zachariah’s stomach tightened as he feared where this conversation may lead.

  “After reviewing my list of friends and acquaintances, I have come to the conclusion that you are the only gentleman whom I trust.”

  “Only?” Zachariah asked in disbelief.

  “Of the gentlemen I know, yes.”

  “Why only me?” Then again, did he really wish to know?

  “You’ve not had a woman in over a year, which should qualify you for sainthood if you ask me. That coupled with the fact that you did not engage a courtesan last evening confirms that I can trust you with my sister.”

  “You do not know that I did not make an arrangement after the ball.”

  Bolton snorted.

  “I am giving the matter some consideration,” Zachariah defended.

  “Yes, well, while you do that, I would like you to join the family for tea this afternoon.”

  Zachariah wanted to refuse the invitation, but Bolton was a friend, and Zachariah knew what it was like to worry about what type of man a sister may attract because Zachariah had three younger sisters.

  “I promise that it is only an introduction. Perhaps you might call on her once and ask her to dance at the ball, but that is all. I promise that I am not asking you to court her.”

  It really would do no harm to meet the sister, or even dance with her. Bolton was not asking much of him. “Very well, I accept your invitation to tea.”

  Chapter Three

  “I have invited a friend to tea,” Angelo announced as he came into the drawing room.

  Gaia glanced up from the book she was reading and eyed her brother. Had he gone out and summoned up bachelors because she had scolded him earlier? She really hoped that had not been the case because she was clear in her intent that she wanted his assistance in not being courted and to simply remain by her side. “We are not to start having guests until tomorrow.”

  “Those are acquaintances of Mother, which I am certain are matrons with either daughters or sons in need of a spouse.”

  Gaia suspected the same, yet she was determined to be polite and engage in conversations so that her mother had no cause for complaint.

  “This gentleman, however, while a bachelor, is in no hurry to wed,” Angelo assured her. “If the two of you could form a friendship, then Mother will be happy, and it will free you from your prison of potted palms.”

  She nearly threw her book at him since it was because of Angelo that she sought refuge there in the first place. However, she was not opposed to Angelo’s idea, if the gentleman was someone of whom her parents would approve. They were not always receptive of some of Angelo’s closest friends as they were libertines, rakes, and scoundrels.

  “Have you told Mother?” Gaia asked.

  “Her and Cook so that they can be prepared.” It was almost as if he were proud of himself for doing something thoughtful. “Now, hurry on upstairs, he is going to be her shortly.”

  Gaia frowned. “Why?”

  “Don’t ladies fuss about, do something with their hair and change gowns before a gentleman arrives?”

  “Are you saying there is something wrong with my appearance?” Gaia demanded.

  Angelo crossed his arms over his chest, stood back and studied her. “I suppose not,” he finally offered. “It’s so difficult to judge when the lady in question is my sister.”

  “Especially when the brother’s only comparison is how a courtesan may present herself,” Gaia snapped. Though, perhaps having a quick glance into a mirror might not be remiss. She needed this gentleman to show her attention. Angelo may have invited the gentleman to tea, but Gaia intended to keep his attention engaged until they returned to Kent so that her parents would only worry about Angelo.

  Only worry about her brother…Gaia attempted to bite back a grin. In his effort to help her, Angelo may have overlooked a flaw in his plan.

  “Why are you smiling?” Angelo asked with suspicion.

  “No reason, other than I am looking forward to not being a wallflower.” She set her book aside. “However, I will take your advice and make certain my appearance is all that it should be.”

  Gaia nearly danced into her set of rooms. It no longer mattered how horrid the gentleman turned out to be because she’d show interest just so her brother was tormented by Mother.

  With a grin, she patted a curl in place, pinched her cheeks, smoothed her dress, and returned to the parlor where she was brought up short by a very familiar face. One she had hoped to see in London but never had.

  “Gaia, may I present my friend, Zachariah Rad—”

  “—Lord Lydell, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You know one another?” Angelo demanded. “How is that possible?”

  “Lady Gaia, the pleasure is mine.” Lydell came forward and bowed before her. “I regret that our paths did not cross in London, for you had promised me a waltz.”

  When she had not seen Lydell in London, Gaia assumed that he had forgotten about her, or perhaps married. But he hadn’t and now he was here. Not that it meant anything. They’d shared one conversation a year ago and hadn’t Angelo mentioned that Lydell had no intention of marrying?

  At least he was a gentleman with whom she would not mind spending time.

  He really should have pressed Bolton when he mentioned his family and sister. Not that Zachariah had any objections. He’d thought of Lady Gaia often, and she was the only reason he had almost remained in London. However, he feared what her reaction would be when she heard the gossip surrounding his cousin and had chosen to return to Bath rather than find out. Even if she didn’t judge him as others did, she might not wish for their association to continue.

  Was she more beautiful now then she had been back then? Her thick black hair was pulled back though curls draped over her shoulder and those light blue eyes still had the power to pierce a man’s soul. Yes, she was more beautiful with her slightly flushed cheeks and full, rosy lips.

  “Ah, our guest has arrived.”

  Zachariah glanced past Lady Gaia to her mother.

  She paused, then frowned. “Have we met?”

  “He sat beside us last Christmas Eve, Mother,” Lady Gaia explained. “Lord Lydell. You recall my mention of him.”

  The woman relaxed as a smile formed. “Yes, of course.” She came forward. “We were not introduced then.”

  “Zachariah Radburn, Marquess of Lydell.”

  “Marchioness of Dargate,” she returned warmly. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “One moment, please,” Bolton interrupted. “You met my sister last year yet were not introduced to my mother even though she recognized you.”

  “That is correct,” Lady Dargate answered as if it were of no concern and crossed to the settee “I was much too tired after being stranded in that horrible blizzard so that I found my bed earlier than Gaia.”

  Bolton sputtered and Zachariah feared that he might suffer an apoplexy.

  “Are you saying that Gaia met Lydell in a brothel, and you left them alone?”

  The outrage had Zachariah wondering if he should not vacate the residence.

  “There were several others sitting about, and long into the evening from what I understand, so I had no fear of any harm coming to Gaia,” Lady Dargate assured her son.

  Bolton threw up his hands then plopped into a chair. “It is really unfair that nearly everyone has had the opportunity to enjoy Christmas Eve in a brothel except for me.”

  “Angelo,” their mother quickly chastised.

  It was all Zachariah could do not to laugh. Bolton’s outrage was rather ridiculous given where the two of them had been the evening before. Then again, none of those women had been his sister.