He untied the string, which held his black book tightly closed, and opened it. He made a great show of running his finger down the open page. “As of this morning we have the Honorable Frederick Rosemount in first place on one hundred points. In second place, Lord Godwin Mewburton, on twenty points. And the Honorable Trenton Embry is yet to open his account.” He snapped the book shut and tucked it back under his arm.
“It would appear that Mr. Embry has not understood the rules of the Bachelor Board. So, I shall give you all a refresher,” he said.
A servant brought in a fresh pot of coffee. Freddie and Godwin eagerly picked up a cup each and sat back to enjoy an early morning heart-starter. Freddie’s head started to clear. The throb in his brain dropped a notch.
Osmont had told them the rules of the Bachelor Board enough times that Freddie felt he could recite them by heart.
“In order to secure your seat on the Bachelor Board you must accumulate enough points from a set of challenges which you are to undertake over the next month. If you are the successful candidate, you will gain unfettered access to some of the most powerful men in the country—men who can guarantee you a life of wealth and exclusive opportunity. You will never have to settle for being anything less than first among equals. Your older siblings will envy you. With all that in mind, I should not have to remind you that only one candidate from the three of you will be offered a seat on the Bachelor Board,” said Osmont.
The horse race down Oxford Street and Park Lane had been the first of the challenges. Freddie sat and smiled. He was off to an excellent start.
The crowd at Hyde Park Corner had all been cheering his name as he’d crossed the finish line. He would be the talk of many a breakfast table conversation this morning. By the end of his cadetship, he was determined all the right people in London would know who he was. He wouldn’t be known simply as Viscount Rosemount’s second son. He would be his own man.
The next member of the Bachelor Board would be the Honorable Frederick Rosemount. Nothing, and no one, was going to stop him.
Chapter Three
Eve stood and stared at her wardrobe. She had tried on two gowns already and tossed them onto her bed. Nothing seemed to suit the occasion. Nothing fitted her mood.
Her maid came and stood beside her. “Blue for good luck?” she suggested.
Eve wrinkled up her nose. Luck was something her cousin Lady Lucy Radley and her about-to-be husband, Avery Fox, were going to need in spades.
After having been caught in a compromising position with the former soldier in the grounds of Strathmore House, Lucy and Avery were now obliged to marry. Avery, the future Earl Langham, had not gone quietly into the arms of his impending marriage.
Lucy’s two older brothers had both taken brides earlier in the year, and their respective weddings had been followed by lavish parties and balls, attended by more than a thousand people a piece. Lucy’s wedding should have also been a glittering occasion.
At Avery’s insistence, however, his and Lucy’s nuptials were to be a quiet family affair at Strathmore House.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” Caroline Saunders closed the bedroom door behind her.
Eve spared her fully dressed and ready-to-go sister a sideways glance before going back to staring at the wardrobe. “I just cannot find the right outfit for the occasion. Nothing in there speaks to me. What does one wear to an occasion that is a cautionary tale in not pursuing a hasty marriage?”
Caroline sighed. It was going to be a trying day for all.
“It’s not a funeral. Besides, we should wear what we would be wearing if it was a full church service. We owe it to cousin Lucy to give her as much support as possible. Who knows? If we give them all our blessings then they may make a go of it.”
Eve nodded. Her sister was right, as usual. Lucy did love Avery. She had set her sights on him a matter of weeks earlier when he was first introduced to London society as the mysterious new heir to the title of Earl of Langham. The fact the groom was not keen on the union was beside the point. He had kissed Lucy and placed his hands on her naked breasts in the garden of Strathmore House. After those facts, marriage was the only possible outcome.
“I shall go with the pale blue dress. It is simple and elegant, and I haven’t worn it before today,” replied Eve.
“Good. Papa is making noises downstairs about wanting to leave very soon, so you had better get a wriggle on,” said Caroline.
Strathmore House, home of the Duke of Strathmore, was located within the fashionable area of Park Lane. The mansion dominated the street, being twice the size of every other house. Its huge Portland stone columns were a physical reminder of the long-held power and wealth of the Radley family. For Eve and her siblings however, it was simply the home of their uncle, aunt, and cousins.
As the Saunders’s family carriage drew up outside the front of Strathmore House, Eve’s heart sank. It should have been the biggest and most wonderful day of Lucy Radley’s life. Crowds should have gathered outside, all craning to catch a glimpse of the elite of London as they arrived for the post-wedding festivities.
The only sign anything was happening at the house was a simple bouquet of white lilies, which had been hung from the front door. They spoke volumes as to the hurried nature of the wedding and the lack of celebration that came with it.
“Now, I want all of you to make a fuss over Lucy and Avery today. No matter the circumstances, it is still their wedding. The wedding breakfast will be a small affair, but since it’s the only one they are going to get, it is up to all of us to make the day memorable. Make sure you have your best smiles on at all times,” said Adelaide Saunders.
Eve noted the bitterness in her mother’s words. Adelaide was heartbroken for her niece, but she was determined to do all she could to make it a special day for Lucy.
Inside Strathmore House, the family were ushered into the Winter Ballroom.
Adelaide shook her head with disgust. “Not even the Summer Ballroom. When Charles and I were married, my father made sure we had the finest of everything at our wedding. A duke’s daughter should never have to face such an insult to her station.”
The Winter Ballroom was bigger than any other ballroom Eve had seen in London, yet it was still smaller than the famous Summer Ballroom with its towering ceiling fabulously decorated with scenes from Aesop’s fables.
The room had been simply decorated with a large vase of white roses next to where the bride and groom were to stand. Little other effort had been made for the wedding decorations. The chill of a forced wedding hung in the air.
Eve and her family took their seats. When the bride arrived ahead of the groom, hot tears sprang to Eve’s eyes.
Lady Lucy looked every part the beautiful bride.
Her white lace wedding gown fitted perfectly to her body. In her hands she held a small posy of cream and red roses. Her short veil was held in place by the Strathmore family tiara—a priceless gold and diamond tiara which had been worn by every daughter of the family on her wedding day going back many generations.
Eve wiped tears away, her heart breaking for her cousin.
“I have others if you need them,” whispered Caroline, handing her a clean handkerchief.
Lady Lucy Radley stood quietly talking to her mother, the Duchess of Strathmore. There was no grand entrance for the bride. She barely acknowledged the rest of the guests.
When the groom arrived, Eve noticed the stripes of his waistcoat matched the color of Lucy’s flowers. It was nice that Avery was making some effort toward keeping up appearances no matter how much he had resisted offering for Lucy’s hand in marriage.
Eve and Lucy had always been close. She knew Lucy was in love with Avery, and the heartbreak she faced in marrying a man who did not want her. Eve could only hope the kind-hearted Lucy would eventually win Avery’s heart.
“He is rather handsome,” said Caroline.
Eve nodded. The dark-haired Avery was lean and muscular. His long, powerfully built l
egs had her gaze trailing all the way to the top of them. She let out a small sigh, envious that tonight Lucy would be the one who would explore his magnificent, naked body.
Avery was exactly the sort of man Eve was seeking. Someone who had more to him than just a title or money. Those things could make a young woman comfortable in her life, and she wasn’t naïve enough to think she could marry a man who could not keep her, yet she yearned for more. A passionate marriage was her heart’s goal, and on that she would not compromise.
Avery had been to war and known a hard life before coming into an unexpected inheritance. He had faced real danger and overcome it. His left hand was continually covered with a black leather glove, which hid an unsightly war wound.
Watching as her uncle, the Bishop of London, married Lucy and Avery, Eve wiped away a final tear. She wished the newlyweds nothing but the happiest of marriages, but knowing the circumstances of their union, they had a hard road ahead.
When the groom placed a chaste kiss on the bride’s cheek, Eve and Caroline exchanged a sad look.
“He had better treat her well. Or he shall have me to answer to,” Eve muttered.
With the wedding service over, Lucy left Avery to talk to the other guests while she sought out Eve.
“Well done. You got through the service,” said Eve.
Lucy gave her a tight smile. “Yes, I managed that much. Now I just need to get through the wedding breakfast and it will all be over.”
Eve was about to make mention of the wedding night, but the look on Lucy’s face gave her pause. The bride clearly had plans contrary to the usual ones for a married couple’s first night.
“If I don’t get an opportunity to talk to you before the wedding breakfast is over, I shall write to you when I get settled,” said Lucy.
Caroline wandered over. “I do love your wedding gown, dearest cousin Lucy. It suits you so well,” she said.
Lucy looked down at her wedding gown. Eve had been with her when she chose the fabric and knew how many tears had been shed at the studio of the modiste.
“Thank you. I shall have to keep it well stored. Who knows? I may have a use for it again someday.”
Caroline gasped.
“I think Lucy is in jest, Caroline,” replied Eve.
Caroline frowned. Eve’s sister had turned down eight potential suitors in the past six months. Like her sister, Caroline also had her exacting requirements for a husband, though Eve suspected they were somewhat staider than her own. With looks that far outshone those of Eve, Caroline could have her choice of husband among the most eligible of ton bachelors.
Caroline was a true beauty. Her long blonde hair and stunning emerald green eyes ensured whenever she was at a gathering, a cluster of men would soon form around her. Her porcelain skin was flawless. Eve doubted her sister had ever suffered from a blemish on her face.
“Yes, well at least you have managed to get to the altar. This season has been so disappointing that I am beginning to wonder if I shall ever be fitted for a wedding gown. I should save my pennies and elope with Freddie Rosemount instead. He was the winner of that midnight horse race last week. I wonder if he would be up for a midnight flit to Gretna Green,” continued Eve.
Her words were met with a huff from Caroline. “You take the whole notion of marriage far too lightly, Eve. I shall go and seek a sensible conversation elsewhere. Excuse me.”
Eve pulled a face as her sister wandered away. She and Caroline were always at loggerheads these days, and she took particular delight in stirring up trouble with her sister.
“You are incorrigible, Eve. Why she takes the bait every time you say something outrageous is beyond me. Why do you need to do it?” said a flustered Lucy.
Eve shrugged. Caroline got under her skin. “I don’t know why. What I do know is that I need to find a husband and get out of my sister’s hair before we both end up hating one another.”
Lucy took hold of her hand. “Don’t make the same mistake as me and throw yourself at a man. But enough of my misfortune. Who is this Freddie Rosemount? The servants have been talking about a mad race that came past the house and had them all watching from the lower-floor windows. Is he the one responsible for my maid offering to run any errands which happen to pass by Grosvenor Square?”
Eve’s mood lifted at the mention of Freddie’s name. “Freddie Rosemount is Viscount Rosemount’s second son and is making quite a name for himself from all accounts. Oh, and did I mention he is rather dashing? Francis and I were in the crowd that welcomed him across the finish line.”
Caroline Radley, the Duchess of Strathmore, walked over from where she had been speaking to other guests. She took Lucy by the hand. Seeing Eve, she smiled. “Hello, Eve, my dear, sorry but I must steal the bride away from you. She and Avery have other guests to speak to before we sit down for the wedding breakfast.”
As she watched her cousin and aunt walk away, Eve was struck by the irony of the situation. Both she and Lucy were true believers in love. They had both wanted the fairy-tale courtship and the society wedding, yet fate had not seen fit to bestow its grace upon either of them.
Lucy was now trapped in a loveless marriage, while Eve spent her days being eaten up with frustration over her lack of success in finding a suitable mate.
“I won’t make the same mistake as you, Lucy, of that much I am sure.”
Chapter Four
“What do you think of Osmont Firebrace?” asked Lord Godwin.
Freddie turned from admiring the fine house in Silver Street, outside which they were standing. The street in which Osmont’s house stood was the home of many foreign embassies and diplomatic residences.
“I don’t really know him that well. I met him the day we started our cadetship. From the look of it, he must do well from the Bachelor Board. It takes serious blunt to be able to afford a house around Golden Square. Why do you ask?” replied Freddie.
“Nothing. It’s just that I find him to be an odd sort of chap. At times I catch him staring at me,” replied Godwin.
He headed toward the front steps of the house, followed by a slightly puzzled Freddie. Earlier that morning he’d caught Osmont giving him a long, slow look, which had left Freddie feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
From outside the house, there was nothing to suggest the sort of gathering which was being held inside. A servant opened the front door. His livery matched that of Osmont’s day-to-day attire: everything black, with a pure white shirt.
He looked Freddie and Godwin up and down. The look on his face was that which one would normally reserve for debt collectors or beggars.
“Yes?” he snapped.
Taken aback at such a greeting, Freddie hesitated for a moment. Then he remembered the secret entry code for the party.
“My colleague and I are here for a board meeting,” he replied.
“Very good, sir,” replied the butler, his demeanor instantly more respectful.
No sooner had Freddie and Godwin stepped inside and finished handing their coats and hats to a footman, then a glass of champagne was thrust into their hands. They clinked their glasses together.
“Bottoms up and chase it down with another,” said Godwin.
A large, red silk curtain separated the reception hall from the rest of the downstairs area. Upon stepping through the curtain, their senses were immediately assailed with sight, noise, and smell.
Everywhere Freddie looked he saw scantily clad young women and men. They were draped across the various plush couches and daybeds which were dotted around the room. None of them were alone. From the look of it, each of these hosts were busy attending to the needs of Osmont’s guests.
Freddie did a quick rough headcount and settled on a figure of fifty people. All were in varying stages of undress and all appeared to be talking at once. The room echoed with the sound of voices.
A heady cloud of smoke hung about the room. Freddie breathed in the mix of burning hashish and tobacco, bringing back memories of his time in the resid
ential halls at university. The air was thick enough to give him an immediate small high.
“Ah. My latest protégés. So glad you could make it.”
They turned to see Osmont standing behind them. At his side was a tall, thin youth dressed in exactly the same black garb as Osmont. When the young man ran his gaze seductively up and down Freddie’s body, Freddie felt his skin crawl. He knew a sexual predator when he saw one.
“This is my nephew,” said Osmont, with barely a nod in the young man’s direction.
He didn’t bother introducing him by name. Freddie gave Godwin a look. There was likely no blood between uncle and supposed nephew.
“I see you didn’t bring Embry with you. I take it he thinks himself above having a spot of fun. Typical west country farmer. He is probably sitting at home right now having a second helping of scones for the night and thinking he is living the high life.”
Freddie and Godwin exchanged a grin. With Embry not bothering to take the game seriously it meant one of them would be the eventual winner.
“I don’t know why he is even attempting to feign interest in the challenges. Then again, his kind rarely make it onto the board,” continued Osmont.
The young man beside him tittered.
“Well, gentlemen, at least the two of you are keen to make your mark on London’s more interesting and select quarter of society. Why don’t you have a wander around and see what and whom takes your fancy? Everything and everyone is on offer,” said Osmont.
Godwin downed his glass of champagne in one long drink before eagerly seeking another. Freddie sipped his drink. He wasn’t that keen on champagne, preferring a decent brandy or a good French wine.
The two of them began a slow circuit of the large room, which Freddie surmised had been separate rooms at one time, but now had all the walls knocked out in order to create a large entertainment space.
At the first couch they came across a young woman caressing a much older man. Freddie stifled a laugh when he saw Godwin’s eyes grow wide with interest. At the next couch, a young bare-breasted woman beckoned for them to join her. Godwin moved like lightning and took a seat next to her. She pointed to the other side of the couch, motioning for Freddie to take a seat.
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