Prologue
“Goodness, Esther, you must not behave so!”
Esther regarded herself in the looking glass once more, trying her very best to remove the pout from her expression and realizing that she did, in fact, appear to be nothing more than a petulant child.
“I do not mean to behave inappropriately, Aunt,” she said, lifting her chin, settling her shoulders, and trying to find some sort of contentment with her new bonnet. “But it is only that I am fully aware that I must have an excellent appearance everywhere I go – and I cannot think that this bonnet aids that!” Frustrated, she pulled the ribbon strings out from under her chin and tore the bonnet from her head, flinging it back towards the box. “I do not know what the seamstress was thinking to include such an item.”
Her aunt, the honorable Lady Ware, sighed discontentedly and gestured to the maid to pack the bonnet again. “She was hoping that it might suit you,” she replied, as the maid scurried to do as she was instructed. “If it does not suit you, then there is nothing to concern yourself with. We shall simply return it with a note of appreciation for her efforts. You are, at the very least, pleased with the gowns and dresses she has made for you?”
Esther, feeling a little chagrined, nodded and brushed her hands down her new day dress. “I am very pleased, yes,” she answered, feeling a slight flush of shame touching her cheeks as she thought of the five other new gowns that now hung in her wardrobe, each delicately beautiful in its creation. “I do apologize, Aunt, for behaving so.” Turning towards her aunt again, she spread her hands out as though to express her sorrow still further. “I ought not to have done so. You have been very generous, and I have acted ungratefully.” She dropped her head, fully aware now of her own selfish behavior and realizing that she ought to merely have stated that she did not like the bonnet and requested politely to return it. There had been no need for such an outburst.
Her aunt sighed, looked to the maid, and murmured a request for a new tea tray. The maid bobbed a curtsy and left at once, leaving Esther and her aunt alone.
“Tell me, Esther,” Lady Ware said gently, “what is it that troubles you so?”
Esther sighed inwardly, looking at her aunt and seeing the usual intense gaze that she had come to know so well. Lady Ware had often been by Esther’s side over the last few years, ever since Lady Leighton, Esther’s mother, had passed away. They had forged a strong bond, and yet there were still things that Esther kept to herself, that she did not quite want to share with her aunt.
Lady Ware, however, seemed to be quite determined to discover them.
“Esther, you act as though you believe this Season will be nothing more than a disaster,” Lady Ware said firmly—when Esther said nothing. “You have already enjoyed one Season, have you not? Why do you fear this one?”
Sighing heavily, Esther sat down in her chair and let her gaze rove about the room as she tried to find the right words to express all that she felt. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, making her all too aware of the anxiety that never seemed to leave her.
“I am grateful for your company this Season, Aunt,” she said slowly, not wanting to portray any sense of disappointment in her father, the Earl of Leighton. “Last Season was my debut, as you know, and it went reasonably well.” She managed a tight smile, which her aunt did not return. “However, my father was often very tired and quite distracted with news and the responsibilities of his estate, even though he was not at home. We often stayed home in the evenings and could not accept as many social invitations as I had hoped.”
Lady Ware’s green eyes flickered and a look of understanding crept into her face. “I see,” she answered, her expression softening. “Your debut Season was not everything it might have been, and you are, therefore, treating this Season as another opportunity to make yourself known within society.”
Esther closed her eyes, sat forward, and put her elbows on her knees, rubbing at her forehead in a manner which her aunt would not approve of. She did not care. Her mind was so greatly troubled that already an ache was forming between her brows. “I wish to marry,” she said, not opening her eyes but forcing herself to speak with honesty and decisiveness. “I want to find a suitable gentleman and marry him, Aunt Ware.” Opening her eyes, she sighed and let her hands drop. “You know it is my father’s dearest wish, and I do believe it would take a good deal of worry from him. But yet….” Sighing, she sat back again, seeing her aunt’s flickering frown. “But yet I fear that I am not the young lady I am required to be. I did not garner a single bit of attention from anyone last Season, Aunt. What if I fail again?” Her heart began to quicken, the knots in her stomach tightening. “What if I am not the young lady that so many gentlemen require? My red hair, for example, is not the color that a young lady ought to have!”
Lady Ware laughed softly, although this only riled Esther rather than comforted her.
“My dear girl!” Lady Ware exclaimed, waving a hand in Esther’s direction. “Your hair will be something that all society shall notice about you! You will be instantly recognized, which goes in your favor.” She smiled gently at Esther, who felt her heart begin to calm just a little. “I can understand your concern, but your lack of success last Season was, I am quite certain, due to your father’s inability to take you to all the required occasions. That will not matter this Season, I am quite certain of it.”
Esther blew out a long breath, able to gather some of her aunt’s confidence for herself and dragging it towards her so that her anxiety no longer had such a tight hold.
“Now, go and see if your father wishes to come and join us for tea,” Lady Ware said, as the maid knocked on the door, entering with the tea tray. “He has been working in his study for much too long, and if I know my brother at all, I
know that he will continue to do so until he is dragged from it by one of us!” Her green eyes, so alike to Esther’s father’s, gleamed with mirth. “Do go and fetch him, my dear. I shall have the tea poured by the time you return.”
Esther, a little buoyed by her aunt’s warm spirits, did as she was asked and left the parlor, making her way towards her father’s study. This year would be very different, she told herself, trying to keep the same sense of encouragement that her aunt had evidenced only moments ago. This Season, she had her aunt to accompany her to various places, which had worked out very well for both Esther and Lady Ware, whose three daughters had all grown up and married very well indeed. Lady Ware enjoyed the Season enormously and had seemed delighted when Lord Leighton had asked her to attend Esther during this year. Surely, with Lady Ware’s help, Esther had more chance than ever before to find a suitable match?
“I am not certain I believe you, Lord Leighton.”
Esther stopped dead, aware she ought not to be eavesdropping against her father’s ajar study door but finding herself entirely unable to help it.
“I do not care what you believe. It is the truth. I have not seen him for some time,” she heard her father say with a gruffness to his voice.
“And yet I find myself questioning it,” came the second voice. “You do know that he is dead?”