Storming into my father’s study without knocking, I’m fit to be tied. The family pug at my heels, indignations clear on my face. “How dare she do this, make him a farmhand. The agreement was that he would be employed as the land steward.”

My father, dark-haired, middle-aged, and handsome, is in the company of a man, late-twenties, tall, and I hate to say it, gorgeous. They both come to their feet upon my entrance, and my rant’s immediately put on hold. I’m surprised and caught off-guard. I know this man. “I didn’t know that you had company.”

“Dhalia, you know Mr. Capello?” My father inquires. Offering his hand in greeting, I’m at a loss for words. It’s been a few days since we last met, and it was in a very compromising situation. What is he doing here? Ignoring his hand, I reattempt to make my case, which only serves to make my father suspicious.“Papa, you have to do something.”

“You’re acquainted, correct?” He demands sternly, referring to my association with this infuriatingly attractive raven-haired man. What had they been discussing, and what had he told my father? My hands were quickly placed in his. A kiss, soft and swift, is applied. I want to smack that endearing smirk off of his face. “We’ve been properly introduced,” I say. It’s best to play along. Father doesn’t take well to deception or breaches in social norms.

“How so?” Unappeased, he inquires further. A twist of my wrist releases my hand from the man’s grasp. “We’ve been introduced at a few assemblies. Mr. Capello has been kind to dance with me when there were no other offers.” I played the only card that I knew would force my father to back off. I’m well past the age of securing a decent match and too old for the marriage mart. “Oh, I see... You’ve done my daughter a great service.”

“The pleasure was all mine.” A solicitous wink in my direction is rewarded with a not-too-kind expression. “Papa, we guaranteed him a position as the land steward, and we must honor it.”

“I know what was promised, and I will make amends.”

“Make amends... papa...”

“Now is not the time to discuss it, Dhal.” His tone puts a halt to any more rebuttals from my mouth.

The pug goes for Mr. Capello’s shoes, and a gentle nudge from mine sends him scampering away. “I do not mean to interfere, but am I to understand that you have a steward in need of a position?” Hansome and meddlesome.

“Yes, unfortunately, my dearest Dhalia has promised her friend a position that is no longer available.”

“He is like family, and he’s traveled so far to be treated in such a manner. She knew what she was doing. I swear that woman...”

"Dhal..." Father warns.

"I apologize. I forget that it is most improper to discuss the malevolent, vindictive, and bitter miscreants in the family with company."

"Dhal!"

“Perhaps I can help? I can make inquiries for you. I’m sure that someone needs an assistant.” The stranger interjects.

“He isn’t an assistant. He’s been promoted, and it’s rightly earned.” I state in frustration.

“Dhalia, Mr. Capello is only trying to be accommodating.”

And only serving to make matters worse. “I appreciate the offer, and I’m sure that Samuel will also,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“Good, we can continue our discussion later, over lunch, Mr. Capello.” Adds father.

“Of course.” Coming to his feet, I’m once again reminded of his great height. Towering over both of us, I try not to stare at his sturdy build and handsome face.

“Dhalia, be kind as to see our guest out.”

“Yes, papa.”

With measured steps and a steady pace, I lead him to the front door. “In the light of day, I see that not only are you beautiful, but you’re a skilled liar as well.” His whispered words cause my heart to skip a beat. I don’t know what it is about this man, but my body seems to have a mind of its own when in his company.

“Should I have denied ever being properly introduced to you?”

“And where would that have gotten us?”

“It would have gotten you tossed out on your rear and all ties severed with your bank.”

“How do you know that I’m a banker? Did you have your friend spy on me?”

The door’s opened by the doorman.

“Good day, Mr. Capello.”

“Please, just Gian.”

His strong features are quite fetching, with a seductive, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. My heart flutters as I close the door in his face without another word.

I’ve been invited to a small social gathering by my good friend Catherine Lancaster. An old friend of the family, she’s made her fortune once again by achieving a good match—a woman of short stature, fair-skinned and lovely.

“It’s been so long.”

“Yes, and I’m happy to be back.”

“How were your studies at the university?”

“You know how it is for my kind. It was like finishing school, just with older pupils.”

“Was it that bad?”

“As bad as could be, but enough about me. I see that you’re welcome in polite society again.” Showcasing a massive diamond ring, I admire its beauty. Although it’s a bit flashy for my tastes, it’s exquisite. “Yes, marriage to a patrician can do that for you.”

“Who knew?” I state smartly.

“Indeed...”

Sharing a laugh, our good spirits are overshadowed by a trio of smartly dressed young women. “Catherine.” Says the beautiful blonde.

“Amelia,” Catherine answers tightly.

A period of uncomfortable silence ensues as the trio eye me, and I eye them. “Amelia Cromwell, Julia Emsworth, and Cecilia Huxley, may I introduce Dhalia Grey.” Catherine makes introductions. Their study doesn’t last long and ends with Amelia stifling a yawn.

“Catherine.”

“Amelia.”

Watching the parade of witches take their leave, they join a group of young men. “I apologize for their poor behavior.”

“There’s no need to. I’ve experienced worse things than a snubbing.”

Gathered together in a small group, the ladies greet the men. “Nicholas Darby is the charismatic one. The extremely handsome one is Charley Addington, and my least favorite is William Gresham, the arrogant one.” Says Catherine, noticing my watch of them. The girls leave them, making their rounds about the room. “Come, let me introduce you to my husband.”

Surveying the crowd of guests, it’s the same who’s who of London in attendance. A new face in the group stands out for a good reason. A gown of red silk is a stark contrast to her dark skin and dark hair. I’m not the only one to notice her. “Who’s the new girl?” I overhear from my position near the column.

“A girl she is not, and apparently someone of no consequence.” States, the light-haired one.

“Even you have to admit that she’s easy on the eyes.” Adds the dark-haired one who asked after her.

“She’s moderately appealing. If one can overlook her inky complexion.” Adds light hair, giving her a cursory glance. She’s being led away by her friend, the hostess. The auburn-haired friend adds his findings. “I’m willing to bet that her dowry of sixty thousand pounds would do a great deal for her complexion.”

“What did Amelia say that her name was?” His words have piqued the interest of the light-haired one.

“Dhalia, she’s the sole heir to the Grey fortune.” Replies brown hair.

“Grey, as in Daniel Grey?”

“The one and only.”

My ears are drawn from their conversation by someone calling for me. “Mr. Capello, may I introduce my daughter Christine.” The auburn-haired young lady graces me with a small smile and a slight nod of her head. Her father’s accounts make up a large sum of our revenue.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Christine has only one more spot left on her dance card. Would you be so kind as to do her the honor?”

“I...”

“How nice of you.” The young lady’s hands are quickly placed in mine, and I have no choice but to lead her onto the dance floor. A melody of moderate pace begins as others join us in a dance. “I apologize for my mother’s behavior. She can be quite domineering.”

Offering a small laugh in agreeance, our hands join as we move past the dancer’s raised arms in sync with the tune. “It’s fine.”

“Oh my, and his smile only serves to highlight his wonderfully strikingly handsome features.”

“Am I to think that you’re flirting with me, Miss. Lindsey?”

“I would hope so.”

“I appreciate the attention, but I have to warn you that I have my heart set on another.”

“Is that so?”

“It is, and she’s attending tonight’s gathering.”

“Who is she?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“So that I can concoct a plan to ruin her reputation.”

“So young and yet so vicious.”

“Don’t act like that’s not what you want.”

“You’re too young even to begin to know what any man wants.”

I receive a small laugh in response. “Men don’t even know what they want. We should be demure and dainty while our husbands run amok sniffing at every loose skirt that’s attached to a beautiful face.”

“Not all of us are like that.”

“Men are fickle, and I know what they desire all too well.”

Her blue eyes shined with mischief as her hand lowered discreetly to my groin. My member swells involuntarily as she has a handful of the twins within her grasp, squeezing lightly. I have to step away from her to regain control of my senses. “Now tell me more about what I don’t know of men.”

I can’t form a single word to deny her claim—my mind is on another important matter at the moment. I’m trying to will away my erection as the dance comes to an end. “I expect you to call upon me soon.” She says with a pretty smile. Her gloved hand in mine, I apply a small kiss. It’s the only thing that I can do at the moment.

I’m left staring after her as another set of dancers make their way to the floor. For some reason, I’m rooted to the spot when I feel a study upon my person. Drawn to its source, a pair of brown eyes greet mine. It takes all of two seconds for my erection to become nonexistent. The scowl that follows is enough to cut me in half. Dhalia’s back is turned to me, and I’m left with her friend’s gaze. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement as she offers a slight nod in acknowledgment. And with a shake of her head, she follows on the heels of her dark-skinned friend.

It’s dark out as our group of six makes our way down the street. I’d feigned a trip to another ball and instead joined Isaiah and company at a boxing match. My good friend and his associates sing off-key joyously. There’s a lighted shop off in the distance that we usually frequent for drinks. It’s hot out, and I'm extremely parched. I search my purse for the appropriate coins. Keeping my company within sight as I continue the coin hunt is tasking.

The contents of my purse are emptied out onto the ground accidentally. I don’t want to interrupt their celebration, so I keep silent about my ordeal. Scrambling to gather my possessions, my scream of alarm is smothered by a grimy hand over my mouth. With an arm about my waist, I’m pulled into the darkened alley.

“What do we have here?” The voice sounds hoarse, and the owner’s breath reeks of spoiled garbage. Held in his tight grip, another relieves me of my purse. Trying unsuccessfully to rid my person of his vile body pressed into mine, I receive a sharp smack from the one digging through my bag.

“She smells good. Must be one of those silk stockings.” His hand harshly palms my breasts. “Mmph...” That is all that I can make out of his assault. Pulling and squeezing my breasts, I try for a few screams, but the noise outside of the alley drowns out my pleas for help.

“Hold still, and we’ll make this quick.”

“You just might enjoy it.” Adds the other offender.

Their laughter frightens me, but not as much as the knowledge of what they intend to do to me. My purse is discarded, and the sly grin on my attacker’s face deepens as he inches slowly towards me.

Rubbing the crotch of his breeches into a bulge, my eyes widen, and I panic. Wildly trying to flee the confines of my capturer’s grasp, I’m released. Relief that one of them has changed his mind about violating my person surges and then sinks when I receive a blow to the side of my head.

Confused and reeling from the hit, I’m back again in his arms. Pinned to the wall and temporarily impaired, I don’t fight back. The man’s pants are dropped, and reality sets in. What will people think? What will they say? I’ve kept my sexual desires at bay, and for what? To be ravished by miscreants? I will not be ruined, not like this! Thinking quickly, the back of my head slams into the nose of the one that holds me captive.

His yelp of pain echoes off the walls of the buildings. I’m released, and a stiff knee to his groin crumples him. “You bitch!” A rough pull on my hair halts my attempt at fleeing. The exposed fiend has me in a tight grip.

I’m roughly pushed up against the wall again. My hand latches onto his to try to loosen his hold on my hair. Grinding his rigid member into my bottom, he snickers lightly. His tongue wets the lobe of my ear, and I cringe. “Don’t be frightened. I’ll be gentle.” He whispers.

“Hurry before someone comes along.” The other has recovered and is in the process of lifting my skirts. “Release the lady!” My assailants are stopped cold, and their attention is turned to my savior. Brandishing knives, the exposed brute reclothes quickly. “She’s no lady. We paid her.”

“Liar! They were trying to rap....”

The palm of his exposed hand lifted into the air silences me. My savior raises his pistol. “Touch her, and I’ll lay you low.” It takes only a few seconds to register that their knives are no match for a pistol. I’m flung into the arms of the stranger, and they make a dash for it.

At the moment, I don’t care who he is. His arms offer comfort as I cling to him. I want to cry, but I dare not. Regaining my composure, I’m finally able to face my rescuer. In the darkness of the alley, by the moonlight, I can see that he has handsome features. Dark-haired and with even darker eyes. He peers back at me.

There’s an awkward moment of silence, and embarrassment on my part sets in. He’s a gentleman, and I must look like a lady of loose morals. How do I explain what I was doing in an alley with two men of ill repute in a very critical situation?

I don’t. I’m Dhalia Grey. I make no excuses, and I owe no one any explanations. It will be as I say it is and was. He makes himself busy putting away his pistol as I smooth my hair and clothing. “I didn’t need your help. I was handling the situation.” His gaze returns to mine, and his face is void of any expression. “You’re welcome.” He says with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Dhalia! Are you all right?” Isaiah has found me and is eyeing my savior suspiciously.

“Yes, I am.”

“What are you doing in an alley with this man?” He whispers harshly.

“I dropped my purse.” Searching for it and finally finding it, I show it to Isaiah as proof of my story.

“My things fell out, and this gentleman helped me.”

I’m given a long look before he accepts the lie.

“Thank you, sir, for your assistance of my friend.”

“It was my pleasure to assist a lady in need.”

I inwardly cringe at his emphasis on “Lady in need.”

“I was very capable of handling myself.”

“So says the lady.” I can see that the stranger has a nice smile and strong, sharp features in the darkened alley. “Thank you once again, sir. If you should ever require my services, I’m in your debt.” Isaiah’s card is accepted, and I’m quickly swept away.

“What happened? You were with us, and then you weren’t.” He admonishes quietly.

“I fell behind when I dropped my purse.”

“And why is it empty? Did the coins and other womanly goods disappear?”

I tried to hide that fact, but nothing gets past his hawk-eyed observations. “Two men robbed me, and he ran them off,” I state, preferring to keep the attempted rape a secret between the stranger and me.

“Dhalia!”

“I’m fine. Now let’s get back before it gets too late, and Father starts to make inquiries.”

“I don’t want to even think about what could have happened!” Says an angry Isaiah, ushering me into our carriage. I don’t want to think about what almost happened!

I’ve been invited to a picnic with Isaiah and his friends, black aristocrats like myself. A group of eight young men and women, heirs with the funds to rival some of the most respectful of the fairer-skinned nobility. They’re coupled together in various intimate positions on blankets, and my gaze keeps straying to them. Spread out along the pond base, now and then, a hand wanders to body parts that should be off-limits.

“Don’t worry. They’re engaged.” He says, from over the top of his newspaper.

“All of them?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I’ve been tasked with being their chaperone.”

“Why anyone would think so highly of you is beyond me.” I jest.

“Their mothers adore me, with a face like mine who wouldn’t.”

“And to think that you would betray their trust by letting their girls engage in petting fests.”

“Well, I hear that someone’s jealous.” He says with a hearty chuckle.

“I am not.”

My gaze wanders to the group again, and a laugh follows a splash. A few of them have taken to the water for a swim. “You shouldn’t be, as I have it on good authority that you may have an admirer.” And there he goes, playing matchmaker again.

“And speaking of, where’s your special someone?” I inquire, refocusing the attention on him. While I was away at school, he lost the love of his life to another. Years have passed, and he’s yet to love again.

“Who knows? Love is not in my cards, love.” He replies.

“You’ll fall in love again, dearest friend.”

“My priority right now is the family business. I don’t have time for anything serious.”

“All work and no play makes you a moody bore.”

“And you? I know that you just returned, but still...” He says.

“There’s no one, and there will never be anyone.”

“What about that dashing fellow that rescued you? He seemed quite taken with you. The eyes never lie.”

“We barely spoke.”

“Oh, I forgot that you were too busy rough-handling those vagabonds. Which I must add was extremely reckless on your part.”

My heart literally skips a beat. How does he know that I attempted to fight them off? I’ve tried to forget about that night.

“Did you know that he’s Italian?”

Oh, that’s how he knows. My savior has a loose tongue. If we run into each other again, I’ll be sure to give him a good chastening.

“It’s not my fault that I fell behind and no one noticed.”

“Still, that’s the last time that I’m taking you to a fight in Cheapside.”

“I don’t need a chaperone. I’ve been there plenty of times. I can find my way.”

“Do you know what your father will do to me if something happens to you?” He asks, finally closing his newspaper.

“He will do nothing, as nothing will happen to me.”

“You’re right because you’ll not return to Cheapside. If you do, I’ll have to alert your father.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Then you shouldn’t dare.” He counters.

“Isaiah, you can’t just introduce me to the... harsher side of life and expect me just to let it go so easily.” Laughing sardonically, he takes a swipe at me with the paper.

“If you’re interested in the Italian, I can make the proper introductions.”

“What? No.”

“He’s not attached to anyone, and he’s quite wealthy. He comes from a family of bankers.”

“Did you two have a sit-down and swap life stories over lunch?”

“No, over brandy and biscuits. He came to my establishment to ask after you. I ended up getting him to subscribe to my club with the promise that you would be there next Saturday.”

“You own a gentlemen’s club.”

“Yes, but once a month, we allow women in. Which just so happens to be next Saturday.”

“My first two outings were a failure on purpose. I’m looking forward to being a spinster.” I state, tired of the conversation and his company. Rising, I smooth my dress.

“Then apparently, you don’t read the paper.”

Accepting the offered newspaper from Isaiah, I scan it. Mortification, followed by horror, plays across my face. I slowly reread word for word my father’s announcement of a husband's hunt for me.

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