Chapter One
“ I swear, Cherie, I will absolutely strangle her when I find her!”
Minerva Bellington’s sharp tone echoed down the grand hallway of the London mansion that belonged to her friends, Cassandra and Aidan Norton. Her steps were quick, her hands twisting the fabric of her skirts in frustration as her best and oldest friend, Aidan’s sister Cherie Casserly, hurried to keep pace.
The evening had started normally enough, filled with the usual small talk and the background hum of ballroom music, but now Minerva’s patience was frayed, hanging by the thinnest of threads.
“Minerva, do you not think you are overreacting a little?” Cherie asked, her breath coming in shallow bursts from trying to match Minerva’s long strides. Her voice was soft, meant to soothe, but even she couldn’t deny the concern that lingered beneath her words.
Minerva rounded the corner, her gaze darting toward every closed door they passed, her heart hammering in her chest. “Overreacting? I am not overreacting, Cherie. You did not see what I saw. You did not read what I read. She wrote it, right there in her diary—tonight, she plans to meet him, this... dark and handsome man , and she plans to ask him to kiss her!”
Her voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in her usual composure.
Cherie frowned, her forehead creasing with worry. “It could still just be a harmless fantasy, a girlish dream. Many debutantes write things like that.”
Minerva stopped abruptly, spinning on her heel to face Cherie, her eyes blazing. “You do not know my sister like I do. She has always been impulsive, but since Mother passed, it has been impossible to control her. Chastity is reckless, making poor choices, and if she acts on this... this foolish notion, she will ruin herself – she will ruin everything!”
Cherie did not respond immediately. She bit her lip, glancing down the corridor before speaking again. “But a kiss? Surely a single kiss would not?—”
Minerva cut her off with a sharp glare. “Yes, it would. You know better. One kiss witnessed by the wrong person would destroy her reputation entirely. The ton would devour her, and no one would propose to her. She would be doomed, and Father... Father would blame me for failing to protect her.”
Cherie’s expression softened at that, a wave of sympathy flickering across her face. “Minerva, you have done more than anyone could have expected. You cannot control every move she makes.”
Minerva pressed her lips into a thin line, unwilling to show any further signs of vulnerability. “Ever since Mother died, Chastity’s upbringing and social success has been my responsibility. Father is too absorbed in his own affairs, and Chastity... she is slipping through my fingers. If I do not stop her, no one will.”
Cherie sighed softly, glancing toward the nearest door. “Then we need to keep looking. Samantha and Cassandra are searching the gardens, and we have covered half of this wing. She cannot have gone far.”
Minerva nodded, sure that their other two friends would be looking just as hard as Cherie and Minerva. Resuming her hurried pace, she mused, “If we do not find her soon...”
Minerva had taken off so quickly that Cherie had to catch up. If they did not find Chastity before something irreversible happened, Minerva would never forgive herself.
The mansion boasted endless corridors and rooms, each filled with the trappings of wealth and high society. It had been over ten minutes since they had started searching, and the more time that passed, the more Minerva’s panic began to edge out her usual calm.
“And this... this secret suitor. He must be truly unsuitable if she is hiding him from me,” Minerva muttered, half to herself, half to Cherie. “There is no other explanation.”
Cherie offered a small, sympathetic nod. “I see your point, but we need to stay calm. Panicking will not help.”
Minerva clenched her jaw, unwilling to entertain the thought of calm when disaster seemed so close.
“We are running out of time,” she said tightly. “We have been searching for too long already. We need to cover more ground. You check the parlors and drawing rooms, and I shall head to the library.”
Cherie hesitated. “Are you sure we should split up? What if?—”
Minerva’s sharp glance silenced her. “We will waste too much time if we stay together. We do not have the luxury to be cautious.”
Cherie nodded, her face creasing with worry. “All right. We will find her. I will meet you in the library when I have finished.”
Without another word, Minerva turned and headed toward the large library. She barely acknowledged that being alone herself would be ruinous to her reputation as well. Her mind was entirely consumed with thoughts of Chastity and the growing dread that her sister might have already done something irrevocable.
The moment Minerva pushed the heavy doors open, stepping into the familiar scent of old books and polished wood. Minerva and Cherie had once spent hours, days in this room! Every nook and cranny, every detail felt so familiar to her.
However, that night it felt different. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the rows of towering bookshelves. The room was dimly lit, and it took Minerva a moment to adjust her eyes to the darkness.
Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a figure near the far end of the room.
A man.
Minerva’s pulse quickened as she stepped farther into the room, her gaze fixed on the tall figure moving casually among the shelves. He seemed utterly at ease, as though he had all the time in the world. He had not noticed her yet, but Minerva’s gut told her this man, hiding alone in the library during a ball, had to have nefarious intentions.
She moved quietly, edging closer, her eyes narrowing as she strained to make out the details of his face. The light shifted slightly, illuminating his sharp features. Her heart stopped.
The Duke of Colburn.
Of all people, it had to be him! The man who was known throughout London as a notorious rake, the man whose name had been whispered at nearly every gathering for as long as she could remember. This man matched Chastity’s description in her diary: He was devastatingly handsome with his dark hair and brown eyes... well, I suppose they are closer to amber .
Women fawned over him, but he never seemed interested with any of them long enough to form an attachment. Chasity, of course, would swoon over a man like him – dashing and off limits. From all the gossip of the ton, he was everything Minerva despised in a man—carefree, charming, and entirely too arrogant.
And now he is here. But where is Chastity?
Minerva’s blood boiled at the very thought.
“You!” Minerva blurted out before she could stop herself, her voice ringing through the quiet room.
The Duke of Colburn’s head turned, his eyes landing on her with a look of mild annoyance. His lips curved into a slow, polite smile, the kind that made it clear he was used to women recognizing him.
“Well, good evening to you too,” he drawled with sarcasm, his voice deep and smooth. “I did not expect to run into an admirer tonight.”
Minerva’s cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “You presume too much, Your Grace. I had no intention of seeking you.”
The Duke’s brow lifted, though the smile never left his face. He took a step closer, his eyes as cold as ice as he looked her over. “Is that so? Then who were you looking for?”
Minerva’s stomach twisted, but she forced herself to remain calm. She had to be careful, had to handle this situation without letting her emotions get the better of her. “A young woman,” she said firmly. “I believe you have been meeting her in secret.”
The Duke blinked, momentarily caught off guard before a scoff escaped his lips. “I assure you, you are mistaken. I have not met with anyone tonight.”
Minerva’s jaw clenched. “I do not believe you. A man like you, with your reputation—what else would you be doing here, alone in the dark?”
He sighed, his fingers pinching the space between his eyes. “You may believe what you wish, but I have told you the truth. I came here for some quiet. I was not expecting to be accused of ruining a lady’s reputation.”
Minerva stepped forward, her anger flaring. “You expect me to believe that? You, of all people, hiding away in a library during a ball?”
His brow furrowed, and for a moment, a flicker of genuine exasperation crossed his face. “I have no expectations of you whatsoever.”
Minerva crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Do not play innocent with me. You are a known rake, always lurking in dark corners and breaking hearts...”
A slow smile spread across the Duke’s face again, a teasing gleam warming his eyes. “It appears I have been featured in more gossip sheets than I remembered. Lurking in dark corners, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting young women?”
Minerva scowled. “That is precisely what you do. I have read all about it.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I do not need to hide in libraries to ‘pounce,’ as you say. And I certainly do not sneak around to ruin reputations. Even an innocent such as yourself cannot mistake innocent flirting with actual acts of ruination.”
“Whispers around town suggest that you do not ‘just flirt.’”
“I am sure I misunderstand and you are not basing your accusations purely on rumors or idle, and false, gossip. Unless...” he took a step forward, with a sudden smile, sharp and dangerous, “unless you wish to be the one to test your theory.”
She took a step back. Something about the serious and cold man from a few minutes ago, now looking like every bit the rake she swore to protect her sister from, unnerved her.
Minerva’s fists clenched at her sides. “You seem to find this amusing.”
“I find you amusing,” he countered, his tone lighthearted, but deeper than earlier. Smoother in a way that raised her skin’s texture. “Here you are, making gross assumptions and accusing me of something I had no part in, without a shred of evidence. You are quite passionate about it, too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I have evidence! I read her diary and I know you two have been meeting in secret!”
“Tell me, who do you think I was dallying with? Let me guess, a dear friend? Perhaps. But I suspect she is younger, given how protective you are of her,” The Duke challenged. “I hardly trouble myself with blushing debutantes; I much prefer a woman who charges into a room, determined to get what she wants.”
Minerva felt her cheeks burn, but she refused to back down. “Do not turn this around, Your Grace. I have no interest in your schemes.”
Evan’s smirk deepened, tracing fingers against the spines books on the shelves lazily, entirely too calm for the situation they found themselves in. His relaxed posture grated on Minerva’s nerves, as though he were mocking her outright.
“You act as though you can control everything,” he said smoothly, his voice low and insufferably teasing. “But some things are beyond even your reach.”
Minerva stiffened, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.
“You know nothing of what I do, Your Grace,” she snapped. “It’s easy to mock when you’ve never had to shoulder responsibilities that weren’t your own.”
The moment the words left her lips, she saw it—the subtle shift in his expression. His smirk faltered, replaced by something sharper, colder. For a fleeting instant, she thought she’d struck a nerve, though it quickly disappeared behind his infuriating calm.
“And you think you know me?” Evan asked, his voice soft but edged with steel. “What responsibilities I do or don’t bear? You assume quite a lot.”
Minerva opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. A flicker of doubt crept in. Had she misjudged him? He didn’t look angry, exactly—his tone wasn’t heated—but there was something in his eyes that made her falter. A weariness she hadn’t noticed before, like the weight of some unspoken burden.
“I—” she began, but he cut her off with a sardonic smile.
“You’re right about one thing,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “Control is not always a luxury we can afford, is it?”
Her defenses wavered, if only for a moment. “You have mocked everything I have said since I entered the room,” she said, her voice less certain now. “How could I think otherwise?”
Evan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a rueful smile. “Maybe because you seem not to notice how ridiculous you have sounded since you entered this very room. And rather than call you out for your presumptive nature, I felt more curious to find out what has you so worked up so as to challenge a Duke.”
The challenge in his tone stung, though not in the way she expected. He wasn’t belittling her—he was... questioning her. However, his reminder of his status was enough to make her swallow hard. “Then what would you have had me ask, Your Grace?”
Evan tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her stomach twist.
“Perhaps nothing at all,” he said softly. “But if you truly think I’m the kind of man who’s never shouldered responsibility, then you’ve misunderstood me entirely.”
“Perhaps I have misunderstood,” she said stiffly. “But you give little reason for anyone to think otherwise.”
Evan’s lips quirked, but it wasn’t the same smirk as before. It was something quieter, almost sad. “I suppose I do at that.”
He straightened then, the tension breaking as he leaned slightly away from her. But his amber eyes remained locked on hers, and Minerva hated the way they seemed to see more than she wanted to reveal.
“And here you are, in a room alone with me, engaging in this delightful argument,” he asked mockingly, “You could have left at any time, after all— weren’t you in the middle of an urgent search?”
Minerva’s breath hitched, and she took a step back, suddenly remembering what had brought her into the room in the first place.
Chastity! This infuriating, arrogant man distracted her from her search. “I must go.”
Evan tilted his head, his smile fading slightly. “I had a feeling you would.”
Before Minerva could respond, the sound of voices from outside the library caught her attention. Her heart leapt in her chest.
They were no longer alone.
Evan’s head snapped toward the door, his expression instantly sharpening.
“We need to go,” he muttered under his breath, his hand shooting out to grab Minerva’s wrist.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, trying to pull free, but his grip remained firm as he tugged her toward a hidden door at the back of the library.
“We cannot be found here,” he whispered urgently, opening the small door to a supply closet tucked away behind one of the bookshelves. “Unless you want to cause the very scandal you seem so determined to avoid.”
Before Minerva could argue, he pulled her inside the cramped space and shut the door behind them.
Minerva stumbled back against the shelves, the darkness of the closet pressing in on her from all sides. She could feel the heat radiating from the Duke’s body, entirely too close in the small space. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts as she struggled to keep her rising panic at bay.
“How dare you—” she began, but before she could get the words out, Evan covered her mouth with his hand.
“If you keep talking, we’ll both be discovered,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “And as much as I enjoy a good scandal, I doubt you would find it as amusing.”