THE Malory mansion on Grosvenor Square was brightly lit, and most of the occupants were in their bedrooms, preparing for the Duke and Duchess of Shepford’s ball. The servants were busier than usual, running from one end of the mansion to the other.

Lord Marshall needed more starch in his cravat. Lady Clare wanted a light snack. She had been too nervous to eat all day. Lady Diana needed a posset to calm her. Bless her, her first season and first ball; she had not eaten for two days. Lord Travis needed help finding his new frilly shirt. Lady Amy simply needed cheering up. She was the only one in the family too young to attend the ball, even a masked ball where she wouldn’t be recognized anyway. Oh, how awful to be fifteen!

The only person preparing for the ball who wasn’t a son or daughter of the house was Lady Regina Ashton, Lord Edward Malory’s niece and first cousin to his large brood of children. Of course, Lady Regina had her own maid to fetch for her if she needed anything, but apparently she didn’t, for no one had seen either of them for an hour or more.

The house had been humming with activity for hours. Lord and Lady Malory had started their preparations much earlier, having been invited to the formal dinner being given for a select few before the ball. They had left a little more than an hour ago. The two Malory brothers would escort their sisters and cousin, a major responsibility for the young men, one just out of university and the other still attending.

Marshall Malory hadn’t been looking forward to escorting the family females until today when, unexpectedly, a lady friend had asked to join his party in the Malory family coach. A stroke of luck, receiving such a request from that particular lady.

He had been head over heels in love with her since he’d first met her, last year, when he’d been home for the holidays. She had not given him any encouragement then. But now he was through with school, twenty-one, a man on his own. Why, he could even set up his own household now if he was of a mind to. He could ask a certain lady to marry him. Oh, how wonderful to have reached his majority!

Lady Clare was also thinking about age. She was twenty, horrid as that was to contemplate. This was her third season and she had yet to win a husband or even an engagement! There had been a few offers, but not from anyone she could have considered seriously. Oh, she was pretty enough, with fair coloring, fair skin, fair everything. That was the problem. She was just… pretty. She was nowhere near as striking as her cousin Regina, and she tended to fade away when in the younger girl’s company. Worst fate, this was the second season she would have to share with Regina.

Clare fumed. Her cousin should have married already. She’d had dozens of offers. And it wasn’t as if she weren’t willing. She seemed more than willing, seemed almost more desperate to get settled than Clare was. But one thing or another had brought all the offers to a dead end. Even a tour of Europe this last year had produced no husband. Regina had returned to London last week, still looking.

This year there would also be the competition of Clare’s own sister, Diana. Just short of eighteen, she should have been made to wait another year before being brought out. But their parents thought Diana was old enough to have some fun. She was expressly forbidden, however, to think seriously about any young man. She was too young to marry, but she could enjoy herself all she liked.

Next her parents would be letting fifteen-year-old Amy out of the schoolroom when she was sixteen, Clare thought, increasingly annoyed. She could just see it! Next year, if she still hadn’t found a husband, she would have both Diana and Amy to contend with. Amy was just as striking as Regina, with that dark coloring only a few of the Malorys possessed. Clare would have to find a husband this season if it killed her.

Little did Clare know it, but those were her beautiful cousin’s sentiments as well. Regina Ashton stared at her image in the mirror while her maid, Meg, rolled up her long black hair to hide its length and make it look more fashionable. Regina was not seeing the slightly tilted eyes of a startling cobalt blue, or the slightly pouting full lips, or the slightly too-white skin that set off her dark hair and long soot-black lashes so dramatically. She was seeing men, parades of men, legions of men—French, Swiss, Austrian, Italian, English—and wondering why she still wasn’t married. It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.

Reggie, as she was always called, had had so many men to choose from it was actually embarrassing. There’d been at least a dozen she was sure she could be happy with, two dozen she’d thought she was falling in love with, and so many who just wouldn’t do for one reason or another. And those whom Reggie had felt would do, her uncles felt would not.

Oh, the disadvantages of having four uncles who loved her dearly! She likewise adored them, all four. Jason, now forty-five, had been head of the family since he was only sixteen, responsible for his three brothers and one sister, Reggie’s mother. Jason took his responsibilities seriously—too seriously at times. He was a very serious man.

Edward was his exact opposite, good-humored, jolly, easygoing, indulgent. A year younger than Jason, Edward had married Aunt Charlotte when he was twenty-two, much sooner than Jason married. He had five children, three girls and two boys. Cousin Travis, nineteen, was Reggie’s age and in the middle of his family. They had been playmates all their lives, along with Uncle Jason’s only son.

Reggie’s mother, Melissa, had been far younger than her two older brothers, nearly seven years. But then, two years after her birth, James was born.

James was the wild brother, the one who said to hell with it all and went his own way. He was thirty-five now, and his name was not even supposed to be mentioned anymore. As far as Jason and Edward were concerned, James did not exist. But Reggie still loved him, despite his terrible sins. She missed him sorely and got to see him only secretly. In the past nine years, she’d seen him only six times, the last time more than two years ago.

Anthony, truth to tell, was her favorite uncle. He was also the only one besides Reggie, Amy, and Reggie’s mother who had the dark hair and cobalt eyes of Reggie’s great-grandmother, whispered to have been a gypsy. No one in the family would confirm that scandalous fact, of course. Perhaps he was her favorite because he was so carefree, like Reggie herself.

Anthony, thirty-four and the baby of the family, was more like a brother than an uncle. He was also, quite amusingly, society’s most notorious rake since his brother James had left London. But whereas James could be ruthless, having much of Jason in him, Anthony was gifted with some of Edward’s qualities. He was a dashing blade, an outrageous charmer. He didn’t give a snort for anyone’s opinion of him, but in his own way he did his best to please anyone who mattered to him.

Reggie smiled. For all his mistresses and outlandish friends, for all the scandals that flourished around him, the duels he had fought, the wild wagers he made, Anthony was sometimes the most lovable hypocrite where she was concerned. For one of his rogue friends to even look sideways at her was to receive an invitation into the boxing ring. Even the most lecherous men learned to hide their thoughts when she was visiting her uncle, to settle for harmless banter and nothing more. If Uncle Jason ever learned she had even been in the same room as some of the men she’d met, heads would roll, Tony’s in particular. But Jason never knew, and although Edward suspected, he was not as strict as Jason.

All four uncles treated her more like a daughter than a niece because the four had raised her since her parents’ death when Reggie was only two. They had literally shared her since she turned six. Edward was living in London by then and so, too, were James and Anthony. The three of them had a big row with Jason because he insisted on keeping her in the country. He gave in and allowed her to live six months of each year with Edward, where she was able to see her two younger uncles often.

When she was eleven, Anthony felt he was old enough to demand equal time with her. He was allowed the summer months, which were strictly for play. He was happy to make the sacrifice of turning his bachelor house into a home each year, and that was easily done, because along with Reggie came her maid, her nurse, and her governess. Anthony and Reggie had twice-weekly dinners with Edward and his family. Still, all that domesticity never gave Anthony a longing to marry. He was still a bachelor. And since her coming out, it was no longer proper for her to spend part of her year with him, so she saw him only irregularly.

Ah, well, she thought, soon she would be married. It was not what she particularly wanted. She would so much rather have enjoyed herself for a few more years. But it was what her uncles wanted. They assumed it was her desire to find a suitable husband and begin a family. Wasn’t that what all young girls wanted? They had had a meeting to discuss it, in fact, and no matter how much she declared that she wasn’t ready to leave the bosom of her family, their good intentions won out over her protestations until, finally, she gave up.

From then on she’d done her very best to please them because she loved them all so much. She brought forth suitor after suitor, but one uncle or another found fault with each of them. She continued her search through Europe, but by then she was so wretchedly tired of looking at every man she met with a critical eye. She couldn’t make friends. She couldn’t enjoy herself. Each man had to be carefully dissected and analyzed—was he husband material? Was he the magic one that all of her uncles would approve?

She was beginning to believe there was no such man, and desperately needed a break from this obsessive search. She wanted to see Uncle Tony, the only one who would understand, who would intercede for her with Jason. But Tony had been visiting a friend in the country when she returned to London and hadn’t come back until last evening.

Reggie had gone by twice to see him that very day, but he was out both times, so she had left him a note. Surely he had gotten it by now. Then why hadn’t he come?

Even as she had that thought she heard a carriage pull up in front of the house. She laughed, a merry, musical sound.

“Finally!”

“What?” Meg wanted to know. “I’m not done yet. I’ll have you know it isn’t easy gettin‘ this hair of yours tucked away. I still say you should cut it. Save me and you both time.”

“Never mind that, Meg.” Reggie jumped up, causing a few pins to drop to the floor. “Uncle Tony’s here.”

“Here now, where d’you think you’re going like that?” Meg’s tone was outraged.

But Reggie ignored her and rushed out of her room, hearing Meg’s loud “Regina Ashton!” but paying no attention. She ran until she reached the stairs to the main lower hall, and then she became aware of her scanty attire and stopped. She drew back quickly around the corner, determined not to leave until she heard her uncle’s voice. But she didn’t hear it. She heard a woman’s voice instead, and with a hesitant peek around the corner, she was greatly disappointed to see the butler admitting a lady, not Uncle Tony. She recognized the woman as Lady something-or-other, whom Reggie had met in Hyde Park a few days ago. Bother! Where the devil was Tony?

Just then Meg latched onto her arm and dragged her back down the hallway. Meg took liberties, that was a certainty, but no wonder, for she had been with Reggie as long as nurse Tess had, which was forever.

“If I ever saw anything as scandalous as you standin‘ there in your unmentionables, I’d like to know!” Meg scolded as she pushed Reggie back down on her stool in front of the small vanity. “We taught you better than that.”

“I thought it was Uncle Tony.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know, but I must see him tonight. You know why, Meg. He’s the only one who can help me. He’ll write to Uncle Jason and then I’ll be able to relax, finally.”

“And what do you think he can tell the Marquis that will do you any good?”

Reggie grinned. “What I’m going to suggest is that they find me a husband.”

Meg shook her head and sighed. “You won’t like the man they choose for you, my girl.”

“Perhaps. But I simply don’t care anymore,” she insisted. “It would be nice to be able to pick my own husband, but I learned quickly enough that my choice doesn’t matter if he’s a bad choice according to them. I have been on display now for a full year, going to so many parties and routs and balls that I hate them already. I never thought I’d say that. Why, I couldn’t wait to dance at my first ball.”

“It’s understandable, dear,” Meg soothed.

“As long as Uncle Tony understands, and is willing to help, that’s all I ask. I want nothing more than to retire to the country, to live quietly again—with or without a husband. If I could find the right man this evening, I would marry him tomorrow, anything to quit the social whirl. But I know that’s not going to happen, so the next best thing is to let my uncles find him. Knowing them, that will take years. They can never agree on anything, you know. And in the meantime, I’ll go home to Haverston.”

“I don’t see what your Uncle Tony can do that you can’t do for yourself. You’re not afraid of the Marquis. You can wrap that man around your little finger anytime you’ve a mind to. Haven’t you done so often enough? Just tell him how unhappy you are and he’ll—”

“I can’t do that!” Reggie gasped. “I could never let Uncle Jason think he’s made me unhappy. He would never forgive himself!”

“You’re too kindhearted for your own good, my girl,” Meg grumbled. “So you’ll just go on bein‘ miserable, then?”

“No. See, that’s why I want Uncle Tony to write Uncle Jason first. If I did, and he still insisted I stay here, where would that leave me? But if Tony’s letter is scoffed at, then I’ll know that plan won’t work and I’ll still have a chance to think of something else.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll see Lord Anthony at the ball tonight.”

“No. He detests balls. He wouldn’t be caught dead attending one, even for me. Oh, bother! I suppose it will just have to wait until morning.” Meg frowned then, and looked away. “What’s this? What do you know that I don’t?” Reggie demanded.

Meg shrugged. “It’s… only that Lord Anthony’s likely to be gone by mornin‘ and not back for three or four days. You can wait that long, though.”

“Who said he was leaving?”

“I overheard Lord Edward telling his wife that the Marquis has sent for him. He’s to be called on the carpet again for some trouble he’s gotten himself into.”

“No!” Then forlornly, “You don’t think he’s left already, do you?”

“No, indeed.” Meg grinned. “That scamp won’t be anxious to face his older brother. He’ll put off leavin‘ as long as he can, I’m sure.”

“Then I must see him tonight. This is perfect. He can convince Uncle Jason in person better than by letter.”

“But you can’t go to Lord Anthony’s house now,” Meg protested. “It’s nearly time to leave for the ball.”

“Then get me into my gown quickly. Tony is only a few blocks away. I can take the coach and be back before my cousins are ready to leave.”

The others were in fact ready to leave then and were waiting for her when Reggie rushed down the stairs a few minutes later. This was unsettling, but not daunting. She pulled her oldest cousin aside as she entered the drawing room, giving the others a fleeting smile of greeting.

“Marshall, I really and truly hate to ask this of you, but I simply must borrow the coach for a few minutes before we all leave.”

“What?”

She had been whispering, but his loud exclamation turned every eye their way. She sighed. “Honestly, Marshall, you needn’t act as if I’ve asked for the world.”

Marshall, aware at once that they were being watched, and appalled by his momentary lack of control, gathered all his dignity about him and said in the most reasonable tone he could muster, “We have been waiting for you for ten minutes already, and now you propose to make us wait even longer?”

Three more gasps of outrage came flying at her, but Reggie didn’t spare a glance for her other cousins. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important, Marshall. It won’t take me more than a half hour… well, certainly no more than an hour. I need to see Uncle Anthony.”

“No, no, no!” This from Diana, who hardly ever raised her voice. “How can you be so thoughtless, Reggie? That’s not like you at all. You’ll make us late! We should be leaving right now.”

“Stuff,” Reggie replied. “You don’t want to be the first ones there, do you?”

“We don’t want to be the last to arrive either,” Clare joined in peevishly. “The ball will commence in a half hour and it will take us that long to get there. What is so important that you must see Uncle Anthony now?”

“It’s personal. And it can’t wait. He’s leaving for Haverston first thing in the morning. I won’t be able to talk to him unless I go right now.”

“Until he gets back,” Clare said. “Why can’t it wait until then?”

“Because it can’t.” Looking at her cousins set against her, and Lady what’s-her-name looking just as agitated, Reggie gave in. “Oh, very well. I’ll settle for a hired chaise or a chair, Marshall, if you’ll just send one of the footmen to fetch one for me. I’ll join you at the ball as soon as I’m finished.”

“Out of the question.”

Marshall was annoyed. It was just like his cousin to try and involve him in something foolish so that he, being the oldest, would be the one to get in trouble later. Well, not this time, by God. He was older and wiser, and she couldn’t talk circles around him anymore the way she used to.

Marshall said adamantly, “A hired conveyance? At night? It’s not safe and you know it, Reggie.”

“Travis can come with me.”

“But Travis doesn’t want to,” the escort in question was quick to reply. “And never mind turning those baby blues on me, Reggie. I’ve no mind to be late for the ball either.”

“Please, Travis.”

“No.”

Reggie looked at all those unsympathetic faces. She wouldn’t give in. “Then I shan’t go to the ball. I didn’t want to go in the first place.”

“Oh, no.” Marshall shook his head sternly. “I know you too well, dear cousin. No sooner do we leave here than you sneak out of the house and walk over to Uncle Anthony’s. Father would kill me.”

“I have more sense than that, Marshall,” she assured him tartly. “I’ll send another message to Tony and wait for him to come here.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Marshall pointed out. “He’s got better things to do than jump at your beck and call. He may not even be at home. No. You’re coming with us and that’s final.”

“I won’t.”

“You will!”

“She can use my carriage.” All eyes turned to their guest. “My driver and the attendant have been with me for years and can be trusted to see her safely on her errand and then to the ball.”

Reggie’s smile was dazzling. “Famous! You really are a savior, Lady—?”

“Eddington,” the lady supplied. “We met earlier in the week.”

“Yes, in the park. I do remember. I’m just terrible with names after meeting so many people this last year. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it. I am happy to oblige.”

And Selena was happy—anything to get them on their way, for heaven’s sake. It was bad enough that she’d had to settle for Marshall Malory as escort to the ball of the season. But he was the only one of the dozen men she had sent notes to that morning who hadn’t put her off with one excuse or another. Malory, younger than she, had been only a last resort. And there she was in the middle of a family squabble, all because of this young chit.

“There now, Marshall,” Reggie was saying. “You certainly can’t object now.”

“No, I suppose not,” he said grudgingly. “But just remember you said a half hour, cousin. You had better be at the Shepfords’ before Father happens to notice that you’re not. There will be the devil to pay otherwise, and you know it.”