“There, my lady, I shall do what I can to restore your gown. I have sent for hot water, and there’s a good fire in your parlour.”

Isobel pushed her arms into her robe and smiled at her maid. “Anything, Mary, as long as it’s warm. I expect you already know why I was summoned to the library earlier?”

“I do, my lady. If you will forgive me for saying so, I think it’s high time you were seen in Society and found yourself an amenable husband.”

For some inexplicable reason an image of the dark eyed stranger flashed across her mind. Heavens above! Imagine what her life would be married to such a one? A gentleman like him would not suit her at all for he would forever be making demands on her. She hastily turned away hoping her pink cheeks had not been noticed. She wasn’t exactly clear what took place in the marital bed, but the thought of him touching her naked body made her pulse race. Pushing such wanton thoughts firmly away, she went to sit in front of the fire until her washing water arrived and she could put on a clean gown.

Her father would be waiting for an answer. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a few weeks in the capital with her favourite relatives. As Mary quite rightly said, at nineteen years of age she would be one of the older debutantes on view. However, whatever her parents might think she had no intention of selling herself to the highest bidder. She knew her duty, but would never agree to marry a man she could not at least feel affection for.

Chapter Two

Grosvenor Square, March 1811

Alex riffled through the pile of invitations on the silver tray in his study. His glance fell on one from Lord Illingworth, he was launching his daughter and his niece at a ball that very night. He flicked over the card and quickly scribbled an acceptance on the back and rang for a footman to take it around. It was decidedly bad form to reply so late, but he was certain the cachet of having a duke at the ball would make up his bad manners.