C H A P T E R O N E

London, 1828

THEREWASNOTHING worse than living in fear, Louise mused while sticking comfortably to the edge of the ballroom. And yet, this was precisely what she’d been doing for most of her life.

Every day when she awoke, she prepared to face the possibility of drawing attention for the wrong reason, of being mocked for her inferiority, and of having to recognize she was a failure. All of which were directly tied to her greatest terror of all – of one day waking and not being able to see. Again.

And of the pain this would lead to, not just emotionally, but physically as well.

Because she remembered.

The couching.

Even though she wished she didn’t, since not remembering might have allowed her to live a more normal life – one in which she’d not be burdened by constant anxiety. She had been seven the first time her eyes were couched by a doctor in order to fix the blurry vision she’d had since birth. At thirteen, the procedure was repeated. Then again when she was seventeen.

Apparently there was no guarantee the result would last.

A shudder raked her spine at the memory of it.

No one wanted to be restrained while a doctor inserted a needle into one’s eye so he could push the ruined lens out of the way. It was unbearably painful. So much so she’d decided never to have another operation unless it was absolutely necessary.

Consequently, she’d not told her parents when she’d lost her sight in the right eye at the age of sixteen. It had happened during a game of shuttle-cock when the hard end of the birdie struck the side of her head. Although the effect had been immediate, she’d told everyone she was fine. After all, she’d still been able to see with her left eye, provided she used her spectacles.

Unfortunately, her reprieve from surgery had been short-lived. When her left lens had unexpectedly shifted a few months later, she’d had both eyes couched again. As luck would have it, she now faced the same risk once more – her left eye had failed a few weeks earlier.

Thus the fear. Not only of the pain and discomfort, but of when and where disaster might strike.

Last time, she’d been at a musicale. Her least favorite people in the world, Miss Rebecca Bowes, Miss Nicole Frazier, and the Earl of Croft’s daughter, Lady Deidre Brackenbridge, had been in attendance as well, and as usual, they’d sought her out for the purpose of telling her something unkind. In this case, it had pertained to the spots on her forehead.

They’d been a nuisance for her at that age.

“You look rather blotchy this evening,” Lady Deidre had said while Miss Bowes and Miss Frazier both snickered. “I do hope you’re not ill.”

Of course, the three awful women were blessed with perfect complexions. Life was unfair that way.

Determined to hide her mortification so she wouldn’t look weak, Louise had raised her chin and forced a smile. “Perhaps you should keep your distance from me then. Just to be safe.”

Lady Deidre had grimaced. “Poor thing. It can’t be easy knowing you’ve no chance of marrying well.”

The remark prompted Louise to glance across at Mr. Nigel Fairbanks, a handsome gentleman she’d taken a fancy to the previous year when he’d asked her to dance at her coming out ball. Since then, her feelings for him had been steadily growing. Unfortunately, nothing escaped Lady Deidre’s notice. She’d instantly laughed. “Good heavens. You really do aim for the impossible, don’t you?”

“Well, it’s better than…than…” Unable to think of anything clever to add, Louise had clamped her mouth shut and glared at Lady Deidre before turning away. Her intention had been to locate her seat, but then her eyesight had unexpectedly failed and she’d tripped over something. One second later she’d been sprawled on the floor while laughter echoed behind her. Lady Deidre and her friends had found the incident very amusing.

Since then, Louise stayed close to her family during social functions – particularly to her siblings.

All were older than she and happily married. Albert, Viscount Linton, to Diana Winterly, Kimberly to Viscount Laringsby, and Helen to the Earl of Fenwick.

Presently, Louise stood with her sisters and surveyed the Redding ballroom. It was filled to capacity by London’s elite, all dressed in their evening finery. Gowns cut from silk shimmered in response to the candlelight while gemstones sparkled and crystal beads winked. Louise herself had elected to wear one of her favorite dresses.

Fashioned from a watery turquoise, it complimented her dark brown hair and eyes. A nearby refreshment table offered iced cakes and trays piled high with triangular sandwiches. Musicians placed on the opposite side of the room slid their bows across the strings of their violins, filling the air with harmo-nious notes in accompaniment of the quadrille currently underway.

“He’s dancing at the moment,” Kimberly told her.

“Who is?” Louise asked with every intention of feigning ignorance.

Kimberly snorted and shook her head. “The same man you look for at every social function. Mr. Fairbanks, of course.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to him?” Helen asked.

Louise sighed. “Because whenever I am in Mr.

Fairbanks’ presence, I either forget how to speak or say something foolish.” When he’d helped her up at the musicale three years earlier, she’d forgotten to thank him. Instead she’d remarked on his scent, since this had been the first clue she’d had of the man who’d come to her aid. He’d chuckled and voiced his appreciation, but her mortification had been complete.

“Didn’t he ask you to dance at your coming out ball?” Helen asked.

“He did,” Louise admitted, her heart fluttering slightly at the memory. The dance had brought him to her attention, but it was the help he’d given her when she’d been in distress that had caused her to fall completely in love with him.

“Well there you are,” Kimberly said. “I’m sure he’d treat you kindly if you were to strike up a conversation with him.”

Louise’s stomach twisted in that nervous way it always did whenever she thought of stepping out of her element. “I don’t believe he thinks of me in the same way I think of him. If he did, he’d surely have asked me to dance again since.”

“Do you honestly think so?” Helen asked. “When you’re known to turn everyone down?”

Her sister did have a point. After the musicale incident, Louise was wary of walking onto a dance floor because what if she suddenly lost her sight again in the midst of a reel? What if she crashed into other dancers or tripped and fell to the floor? She’d make an even bigger spectacle of herself then – the sort she feared she’d never live down.

“If you want to marry,” Kimberly said, “you’ll have to accept the attentions of men.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Louise murmured, taking an instinctive step backward.

She’d still not forgotten the comment Lady Deidre had made. Worst of all, Louise didn’t think she’d been wrong to question Louise’s ability to make a good match.

Yet another reason for hesitation.

“And if the man you choose to marry cares for you, he’ll overlook your need for spectacles,” Helen added.

Louise shook her head. “No man will want to saddle himself with a woman who might lose her sight at any second. I’d be a danger to his reputation.”

Kimberly placed a calming hand on Louise’s arm.

“Your condition is fixable, Louise. And every time your sight is restored, it lasts for years.”

“There’s no guarantee it will though. If I lose my sight again, the procedure might only last a day, a week, or a month. I’ve been incredibly fortunate so far to have it last in such long increments, but it might not keep doing so.”

“I still think you should talk to Mr. Fairbanks,”

Helen said. “You’ve been in love with him for so long the very idea of him marrying anyone else would be highly unpleasant.”

Louise smiled on account of her sister’s kindness.

“You’re a romantic, Helen. Of course you’d say that.

But that doesn’t mean Mr. Fairbanks deserves to be burdened by me.”

“Stop it,” Kimberly admonished. “You’re a wonderful catch for any gentleman lucky enough to get to know you.”

“Only if I’m able to keep my eyesight.” A horrible thought struck. “Can you imagine if I were to lose it while walking up the aisle at our wedding? I’d likely trip and get tangled in my gown. It would be disastrous.”

“I suppose that is a legitimate concern,” Helen said.

“Agreed.” Kimberly gave Louise’s arm a squeeze before letting go. “I’d be worried about that too if I were in your position.”

“And it’s not just that,” Louise told her sisters. “It could happen while I’m hosting a dinner, or during a ride, or while I’m watching our children.”

“You probably ought to refrain from riding,”

Helen said in a pensive tone.

Louise cut her a glance. “I already do.”

A pause in the conversation followed while chatter ensued around them. The music guiding the dance Mr. Fairbanks had been participating in began to fade, and Louise invariably sought him out as he bowed to his partner. A flutter fanned out within her breast as she watched him step off the dance floor.

Impeccably dressed and with almost black hair and classically handsome features, he cut a striking figure in his evening attire.

“No risk, no gain,” Kimberly whispered near Louise’s ear.

Heat filled her cheeks. She swallowed. “Quite right.”

“Then talk to him,” Helen urged. “We can come with you, if you like.”

“No.” That would only make her feel more like a coward. If she was going to do this, she’d do it alone. Because in spite of her fears, her sisters did have a point. If she wanted to marry, she needed to make a match sooner rather than later. At twenty years of age, her chance to do so would soon be gone, and she could only use her eye surgeries as an excuse for so long. Plus, Mr. Fairbanks had proved himself to be a good man. He wouldn’t laugh at her or treat her cruelly if she approached him. She was certain of it.

“I’ll simply inquire about his wellbeing,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else.

“And we’ll be waiting for you right here,”

Kimberly said, her voice full of encouragement.

“Take as long as you need.”

Grateful for the support, Louise made her way through the crowd toward the man she’d been dreaming of since he’d saved her from being overlooked. Her stomach tightened as she drew nearer, and then he was suddenly there, his attention focused upon…

Louise sucked in a breath and prayed she might turn invisible. She seriously pondered the idea of taking a sharp left turn to avoid Mr. Fairbanks completely. Because the last thing she wanted was to have to greet him while Lady Deidre gazed at him as if he were some magical creature who’d promised to make all her wishes come true.

And then, as if things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Lady Deidre’s gaze swept toward Louise. A smile curled her lips.

“Lady Louise,” Lady Deidre said, obliterating whatever hope she’d had of being ignored so she could escape into the crowd and pretend her life wasn’t one long series of awful moments. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Louise froze. She stared at Lady Deidre, balled her hands into fists, and straightened her spine.

She did her best to offer a smile in return.

“Likewise.”

A pause followed, during which Louise could feel heat creeping up the back of her neck. She could think of nothing else to say, so she glanced at Mr.

Fairbanks, who took this as his cue to ask, “Are you enjoying the ball?”

“Yes,” Louise said. “And you?”

“To be honest I found it rather dull until I encountered Lady Deidre. She told me the most incredible tale earlier.” He smiled at Lady Deidre who promptly simpered with affected bashfulness. It was nauseating to watch. “Perhaps you would care to repeat it for Lady Louise’s benefit?”

“Of course, I’d be delighted to do so,” Lady Deidre said, “though it is a rather long story and our set is sadly about to begin. Shall we proceed, Mr.

Fairbanks?”

“Indeed.” He offered Lady Deidre his arm, which she latched onto like a leech. “Perhaps—”

“Mr. Fairbanks,” Lady Deidre purred while turning him away from Louise, “the other couples are already taking their places. We really must hurry if we’re to find a good spot on the floor.”

“Of course,” Mr. Fairbanks said while Lady Deidre proceeded to lead him away. “Please excuse us, Lady Louise.”

Humiliation burned the tips of Louise’s ears as Lady Deidre glanced back at her with a vindictive grin. The woman had known of Louise’s affection for Mr. Fairbanks for three long years, and had clearly chosen to turn this knowledge into a weapon.

Swallowing her anger, the frustration it wrought on her nerves, and the keen awareness that every poke Lady Deidre dealt her further chipped away at whatever confidence she still possessed, Louise glanced toward the terrace doors with longing.

Kimberly and Helen had said they would wait for her return, but right now, all Louise wanted was to be alone. So she swept through the crowd with determined steps, leaving behind the buoyant music, the lively chatter and laughter, the dazzling atmosphere filling the ballroom to claustrophobic capacity, and Lady Deidre’s hatefulness.

Fresh air filled her lungs the moment she stepped outside, its coolness washing her skin of the heat she’d experienced indoors. She breathed in the sweet scent of jasmine that wafted toward her on the breeze and savored the stillness. Much to her surprise and pleasure, no one else was out here. For once, it would seem, something had worked in her favor.

She moved slowly toward the stone railing, closer to the spot where steps led down to a torch-lit garden. Overhead, the ink-black sky stretched in every direction, as if it wished to encompass the world. Stars – tiny flecks of sparkling silver – twinkled like sun-kissed diamonds. A smile caught Louise’s lips. The world had so much beauty to offer, if one would but take the time to pause and look.

“Riii—bit.”

Louise dropped her gaze. It took her a moment to locate the toad – a fat creature perched upon the top step. Her smile broadened – not because she cared for any form of reptile, but because it occurred to her that a toad’s presence was much preferred to Lady Deidre’s.

This thought brought her mind back to Mr. Fairbanks. “If only he would pay more attention to me,”

she said, addressing the toad, “but what would ever compel him to? Do you have any idea?” When the toad continued to sit there, motionless and silent, Louise sighed. “Oh, if only you would speak.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and then a man said, “Forgive me. I believe you must have mistaken me for someone else.”

Startled, Louise spun around and nearly lost her footing in the process. Of course someone had to witness her talking to a toad. That was simply how her life worked. She stared at the stranger – a handsome gentleman with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. “Who are you?”

He studied her for a moment. “Apparently not the person you believed you were addressing.”

“No. I…um…” She looked askance. Perhaps she could tell him something more socially acceptable than the truth?

“Riii—bit.”

Louise bit her lip. Drat!

The stranger frowned. His appearance was different from Mr. Fairbanks’s, whom she’d always thought the handsomest man in the world. By contrast, this man possessed fair hair, his jaw was more angular too – less delicate in appearance –

while his mouth seemed on the verge of smiling, without actually doing so. The effect lent a jovial air of mischievousness to him that Mr. Fairbanks, who either smiled with complete abandon or not at all, lacked.

“Were you conversing with a frog?” asked the stranger, his casual tone not the least bit condemning.

“No,” Louise tried as the toad hopped out from behind her. It paused for a moment before continuing down the steps toward the grass beyond the terrace. She huffed a breath and chose to accept defeat. “Maybe.”

A low chuckle resonated between them. “How unusual.”

She knit her brow. “It wasn’t very helpful.”

“Not with its advice perhaps, but maybe by lending an ear.” The stranger tilted his head in thought. “Do toads even have ears? I’m sure they must.”

Louise instinctively smiled. There was comfort to be found in this man’s company, which was odd since she’d no idea who he was. And since they’d not been formally introduced… “I should probably go back inside. Being out here alone was all right until you joined me. Now it would be improper.”

She started toward the French doors behind him while he tracked her steps in silence. A pity she could not stay when instinct suggested she’d like conversing with him at greater length. She was almost at the doors when one side swung open and her father stepped onto the terrace. “Louise. What are you doing out here?”

She took a fortifying breath and prayed he’d stay calm. “I was merely taking a small reprieve.”

He held her gaze. “Go and find your mother.

She’s in the supper room, waiting for you.”

“Yes, Papa.” What else could she say? He was her father and she’d always done as he’d asked. Glancing toward the stranger, she gave him a swift smile in parting before she returned inside, resigned to the idea of not being able to leave the ball any time soon.

“The man you met on the terrace,” Papa began once Louise and her parents were finally heading home in their carriage three hours later. “You’re never to speak with him again. Is that clear?”

Curious about her father’s apparent dislike of a person she’d thought to be rather pleasant, she asked, “Who was he?”

“If he approaches you, you’re to walk away immediately,” Papa said, ignoring her question. “To be seen in his company will most assuredly lead to ruin. Mark my word.”

“Goodness,” Mama said with a gasp. “You really must be careful, Louise. Listen to your father and protect your reputation at all cost.” The fact that she believed it was the only asset Louise had left besides her increasingly large dowry was heavily implied.

“I gather he’s a rake then?” Louise asked, since this was the sort of man her parents had always warned her against.

“I’ve no idea,” Papa said, then hastily added, “but it wouldn’t surprise me if he were.”

“Hmm…” Louise frowned. She found her father’s vagueness, his reluctance to mention the man’s name, peculiar.

“Cast him from your mind,” Papa said. “He’s not worth sparing a thought.”

“Instead,” Mama said, “I would suggest you make more of an effort to be seen by the eligible gentlemen looking to marry. If you continue to hide in various corners, they’ll forget all about you.”

“I’m not hiding in corners,” Louise grumbled.

“You’re not making an effort either,” Mama said.

“I spoke to Mr. Fairbanks,” Louise blurted, her intention being to win this frustrating argument.

She instantly regretted it when Mama said, “I believe he’s enamored by Lady Deidre.”

“He hasn’t announced an engagement yet,” Papa said. “Louise could still win him.”

“Yes,” Mama agreed in a tone devoid of conviction. “I suppose she could.”

Louise sighed. She knew she had to do better, try harder, be more assertive. If only fear didn’t always lurk at the back of her mind, it would be so much easier.

To her surprise, her musings on the subject led her thoughts straight back to the stranger she’d met on the terrace. Gazing out the carriage window at the dark streets beyond, she went over their conversation while picturing him in her mind’s eye. Would she ever meet him again? More to the point, who on earth was he?