"Perhaps the blue dress would do better to bring out your eyes."

"The sage is fine, Mama! I'm not changing again."

I stood in the corner of my elder sister's bedroom, watching the argument unfold between my mother and Emily for the dozenth time today. It had long since ceased being amusing and now I fought to refrain from rolling my eyes each time they raised their voices at one another. It had become the only sound that one could count upon in the house. Roosters crow at dawn, the sun rises in the east, and my mother and sister are eternally at each other's throats.

"I think the sage is lovely," I offered, attempting that sisterly support so lacking between Emily and I, but no one heard. They weren't even listening. Frankly, I doubted they were aware of my presence in the room at all.

Maids circled Emily's hem and bust, prodding and pulling to form the perfect feminine shape; a shape that Emily did not have. She frowned and braced herself against the massive Venetian standing mirror in front of her while three servants tugged unrelentingly at the strings of her corset. One of the girls even braced herself with a foot upon Emily's back as she pulled. I bit my lip to keep from snickering at the breath that Emily expelled when they finally had it tied. Unheard or not, my attempt at support had not been in vain.

"There!" our mother exclaimed victoriously as Emily's face practically turned blue in her suffocation. "Beautiful!"

"Mother, honestly, could we not order a new corset from Mademoiselle Francis?" Emily huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face which her lady's maid, Veronica, hurried to restore.

"No," her mother answered forthwith. "You will wear this one so that you may learn not to partake in so many hors d'oeuvres."

"Mama!"

"I'm only being honest, dear," she answered, not paying any mind to the reddening of her eldest daughter's face, as she focused instead on selecting the finest bits of jewelry to accessorize. "You know how it is. This is your second season. There will be no debut, no buzz about your name or your prospects. You are old hat, trite. The daughter of an Earl who failed to secure a husband in her first season despite her prominent family name and father's title. Do you not recall the humiliation?"

I closed my eyes, hissing in a breath as though I'd felt the sting of the insult myself. I did not need to look to know the anger present on my elder sister's face. This home had not been a pleasant place to live since Emily had joined society and then failed at the one task given to women since birth. She had hardly any suitors at all and it wasn't for lack of trying. We had attended every ball and picnic. Our mother had accosted nearly every available gentleman in London, but none had shown any interest.

It wasn't that Emily was homely. She did not have the fair auburn hair and bright blue eyes of her sister, that was true. Nor did she have the same feminine hourglass shape that I somehow, miraculously, seemed to possess. But her countenance was pleasant enough and she had no noticeable deformities. Emily's issue had always lied within her disposition. She was disagreeable and, at some times, downright sour. She was very picky for a girl with no options and, within her own family, quick to anger and prone to tantrums. It made her rather unpleasant to live with. I had hoped she would be able to maintain her composure long enough to secure a husband before the poor, unfortunate soul realized the future he had signed up for. But she had proven even that too difficult a task when she had lashed out at Sir William Davis last season for his accidental spilling of punch upon her brand new chiffon gown, creating such a scene that the entire family was forced to retire early that evening.

"How could I not recall when you will not let me forget?" Emily finally exploded.

I was just beginning to contemplate my escape when I heard a faint knock at the door and turned to open it, my mother and sister's bickering reaching a boiling point behind me. I smiled at the man who entered. The oldest of us all, my brother Elijah Harrington, entered the bedroom, took one look at the situation unfolding in the midst of it, and raised his eyebrows at his youngest sister beside him. I chuckled quietly as he cleared his throat to get their attention.

The quarrel stopped at once as both women turned to view the newcomer. I said a silent prayer of gratitude for Elijah's presence. They were always calmer around him.

"The guests are arriving," he said.

Those were the only words he needed to speak. Our mother jumped into action at once, herding all of us out the door and into the hall, keeping her arms locked with Emily's as we went as if she feared the girl might turn tail and flee at the first sight of the festivities.

I heard my mother's mutterings about hoping the servants had done this or finished that but it wasn't until we exited the grand foyer of our ancestral estate that I could fully appreciate all of the work our mother had done for this unassuming little garden party.

The gardens had been beautiful before but now they almost seemed alive. Servants ran to and fro with plates of hors d'oeuvres that the Countess was already smacking Emily's hands away from. Flowers had been brought in and arranged in beautiful displays around the standing lawn tables and marble sculptures. Men and women in elaborate finery milled about with glasses of wine and brandy, laughing with one another in the glorious afternoon sun.

Elijah abandoned us immediately to join up with a group of gentlemen he had known since boarding school, clapping them on the back and greeting them with a booming voice. The Countess took her oldest daughter by the arm to the nearest available gentleman, a Baron if my memory served me correctly. The Earl was nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly too busy for an event of such inconsequence.

Left to my own devices, my eyes scanned the crowd, settling on the table of desserts in the back. I peered around to see if anyone was looking. We were never permitted sweets at the Harrington estate. Comments such as the aforementioned reference to the overindulgence in the hors d'oeuvres were not uncommonly heard coming from the Countess' lips and I was certain that my mother would positively die on the spot should she have to inform our dressmaker to set her daughter's next gown up a size but whenever our mother hosted a party, she imported the finest Swiss chocolates and I never could get enough.

I glanced around again. No one was looking. No one could possibly know if I simply swiped a few. So I made my way to the table on the back edge of the lawn and milled about for a moment. No one was approaching me. No one was even glancing my way. Quickly, I turned around, back to the crowd, and gathered two of the sweets in my palm. I slipped one into my mouth and turned back around as if nothing had happened, chewing as slowly and furtively as I could.

My eyes practically rolled back in my head. The smooth chocolate was a nostalgic ecstasy. How had I waited a whole season to taste them again?

"Is it customary to partake in dessert before the hors d'oeuvres have been properly distributed?" someone spoke and I froze, mid chew, my eyes widening in horror. I had been seen. And the voice was not one that I recognized. Low and deep, as smooth as the fine Swiss chocolate now melting away on my tongue. I turned slowly to face the only witness to my crime.

Standing beside me, lips quirked into a mischievous smirk I was sure had brought more than a dozen girls to their knees, stood the most devilishly handsome man I had ever laid eyes upon. If tall, dark, and brooding had become personified, the man himself was standing in front of me now. The very first thought that popped into my mind was that I should hide him away immediately for if my mother ever got a good look at him, Emily would never be left alone again. At least, not until it was his ring on her finger. I chewed once more and swallowed painfully hoping, at least, to destroy any remaining evidence of my transgression.

"No," I answered his question after a moment, noticing he seemed to be waiting for an explanation. He did not remove his gaze from me and my skin burned under the weight of it. It wasn't a feeling I cared for. "But I've been positively starved to fit into this dress so, now that I'm in it, I'd like to try my hand at busting the seams."

He laughed at that, his cheeks dimpling at the wide smile his mirth caused. I found myself staring, mesmerized by the little indentations and by the sound of his hilarity. Though as I watched him, I felt eyes upon me as well and turned to see that several of the men and women nearby were casting glances toward us now. I averted my gaze, staring down at the grass beneath my slippers instead.

"You seem to have drawn quite a bit of attention," I muttered quietly.

"Me?" he queried, amused. "You're the one with a fistful of chocolates."

I cocked my head and opened my fist to reveal one moderately melted chocolate. I popped the treat into my mouth quickly before turning on my heel and stalking away from the temptation of the sweets and the allure of the mysterious man standing sentry above them.

"Ella, there you are!" Elijah called out as I neared his group and I headed straight for him, grateful for the diversion. He wrapped an arm about my shoulder when I approached in a warm show of brotherly affection and pointed to the men he was speaking to. "Have you met-"

He was interrupted by the sound of pounding hooves. We, and everyone else attending the party, turned to find a carriage making its way up the dusty road toward the gardens. It stopped short of the drive and it's doors swung open. A pristine new boot was our first glimpse at it's inhabitants and that article alone started up whispers of interest among the gathered nobility.

When the man emerged and then, finally, his wife, Elijah and I both gasped and nearly tripped over one another running through the crowd to the newly arrived couple. Though, as we had been toward the back of the garden, it took some time to reach them. Our mother and Emily had already reached our guests by the time we arrived.

"-hope it won't be an inconvenience for the three of us to stay with you for a few days," the gentleman was saying kindly to our mother as Elijah and I reached the group.

"Madison!" I cried, lurching forward and throwing my arms around the beautiful blonde on the man's arm.

"Ella!" Madison called, embracing me back as the men chuckled and greeted each other and my mother pried me away from my oldest friend whilst muttering something about us having made a spectacle of ourselves. I hardly heard the comment, brushing it off as easily as it was made. We were meant to be a spectacle, were we not? Otherwise, what was the point of all of this elegant finery?

"Bentham," I said with a smile instead, turning toward the gentleman when I had finally separated from his wife. He smiled back at me.

"How are you, Ella?' he asked.

"Much better now," I assured him and stepped forward to hug him as well, though much more refined than my embrace of Madison had been.

"Did you say there would be three of you staying with us?" Elijah asked as I stepped away from the couple, referencing the conversation we had overheard with our mother as we approached.

"Ah, yes. I've brought a friend of mine to visit as well. He was eager to see this side of the country," Benthem explained and then caught sight of something behind us. "In fact, it appears as though he's beaten us here."

"Faster to travel by solitary horse than carriage," Madison chided.

"Yes dear. But you deserve your comforts and, despite the riding you do at the estate, it would be uncouth to arrive at such an event on horseback," Benthem nudged her with a shoulder and she rolled her eyes though could not contain her smile all the same. I grinned at the sight of it. I had always been entranced by the love that had grown between two of my oldest friends. "Here he comes now. May I introduce you all to the Duke of Northumberland?"

I heard my mother gasp at the prestigious title of Duke as we all turned to greet His Grace. But as I turned to view the familiar tall, dark, and brooding gentleman before us, I only felt my face burning as I knelt to curtsey.