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Prologue

Miss Debenha Ball

1837

Miss Eugenie Belmont waited in trepidation Olivia and Marissa had spoken of their ideal husbands, and after the uproar they caused Eugenie felt her own qualms increase Perhaps if she stayed quiet and made herself very small no one would notice her? The truth was she didn’t have a choice of an eligible husband Not a single, solitary one Where on earth would she ibleat Bel down as it was, and inhabited by her disreputable and rackety family

Perhaps her friends would pass her over and ask Tina or Averil instead Eugenie said a fervent prayer under her breath

“Well, Eugenie? Are you going to tell us the na smile, and the rest of her friends leaned forward, their eyes bright with expectation

Eugenie tried to s in her chest Thefor weeks had arrived

“I haven’t given it ht, really What about Tina? I’ to—”

“No, no,” Tina retorted, “ant to hear your choice, Eugenie Come now, don’t be coy Who is it? Do we know him?”

Eugenie took a drink of her chaathering around her Desperately Eugenie tried to think of a way to escape their questions She could tell the truth, but the thought of such an e admission made her squirm inside Her friends seemed to know so ed to be like them, and she couldn’t help but think that if they knew just how unlike theer be her friends

“There now,” Olivia said,her wild curls behind her ears “All better?”

“I—I think so”

They waited expectantly They exchanged glances

“Coenie Is it really such a secret? Who is this man?”

“We all agreed toand tell each other the nae your enie It wouldn’t be fair”

“Tell us, Eugenie, please!”

They weren’t going to let it lie Eugenie sought desperately for a name, someone handsome and wealthy and titled, someone ould impress her irrepressible friends The one that popped into her head was coave herself no ti it aloud

“Sinclair St John, the Duke of Somerton,” she blurted out

Smiles wavered Eyebroere raised “Good heavens!” cried Tina, always forthright “Soible enie?”

“Why shouldn’t she aienie deserves only the best And she has royal blood!”

“Dear otten that Was it your grand’s mistress?”

“No, it was reat lady, and she wasn’t at all pretty, so it is quite a h he was rather ugly himself”

They giggled

“And then he o with it The property and the randmamma’s liaison is the baronetcy, and my father’s nose, which he insists is pure Hanoverian We have no reason to boast about our royal connection, I assure you”