Page 1 of A Scarred Wallflower for the Duke
ChapterOne
From the moment she stepped out of the carriage, Georgina Wyatt was on the lookout for disaster. Brightly dressed guests were spilling from coaches and heading up the lamplit front steps toward the ballroom, faces hidden behind frilled and feathered masks.
There was just something about a masquerade, Georgina thought, that caused people to let their guard down. To behave in ways they never would, freed by the cloak of anonymity. Yes, she thought, their chances of getting through tonight without calamity were slim to none.
She turned to look at her two younger siblings. “Now, do you think,” she began, “that we might do our best to avoid disaster this time?” She met her half-brother’s eyes through his thin black mask. “Marcus?”
Marcus grinned his warm, infectious grin. It was a grin that, coupled with his terrible business decisions, had landed him in trouble more times than Georgina could count. Or rather, she had given up trying to count.
“I will do my very best,” he assured her. Despite the twinkle in his blue eyes, Georgina could hear the sincerity in her brother’s voice. Marcus had taken over the title of Viscount of Thomson five years ago, when he was just eight-and-ten. Since then, he had made a string of questionable decisions regarding investments and potential business partners—and in the absence of any male relatives to turn to, he had always turned to his older sister to help extinguish the fires.
“If you receive any business propositions tonight,” Georgina continued, voice low, “you be sure to come to me and discuss them before agreeing to anything. Understood? I do not wish for a repeat of last month.”
Marcus nodded solemnly, then his smile returned. “Understood.”
“Very good.”
Several weeks ago, Marcus had trotted off to a ball unaccompanied and had ended up losing a sizeable portion of their lands in a bet around the refreshments table. It had taken much frantic letter writing and shameful apologies for him and Georgina to undo the drunken agreement.
Despite the problems that Marcus brought home on a regular basis, there was a part of Georgina that relished her role. Being her brother’s confidant, his mentor, made her feel as though she had a purpose. Made her feel as though she had truly been put upon this earth for a reason—after all, there had been plenty of people who had questioned her reason for existing over her five-and-twenty years of life. She would never be a wife or mother—she had long made her peace with that. Being someone Marcus could rely on made Georgina feel truly worthy.
Her half-sister, Lydia, flitted up the steps behind her, linking her arm through Georgina’s. In a butter-yellow gown and matching feathered mask, Lydia was like an explosion of sunshine. Golden curls cascaded down from an ornate arrangement at the top of her head.
“You worry far too much, Georgie,” she sang. “It is ever so good to see you out with us. I feared you were going to stay inside with your books again this evening. Do promise me you will try to enjoy yourself tonight.”
Georgina smiled at her sister, squeezing her arm. “I shall try.”
“Lydia is right.”
Georgina turned to look at their grandmother, who was climbing the steps behind them. As always, Jane Wyatt, the Dowager Viscountess of Thomson, was immaculately dressed tonight in a regal navy blue gown. “You ought to try and enjoy yourself tonight of all nights, Georgina. With it being a masked ball, you may even be lucky enough to have your first-ever dance.”
Georgina said nothing. She felt quite certain that no dance would be forthcoming—tonight, or any night. Her traumatic birth had left her horribly disfigured, with a chaos of thick white scars crisscrossing her face and arms. The ghastly ordeal had taken her mother’s life and condemned Georgina to a future of spinsterhood and scrutiny.
Her sister and grandmother had been adamant that Georgina put extra attention into her appearance tonight. After all, they were right—a masked ball was the only chance she would ever have to catch the eye of a gentleman, even for a dance. To keep the peace, she had gone along with it all. Had accepted the new lilac gown her grandmother had had made—with matching gloves, of course, to hide the puckered white skin on her arms—and had sat still for a near eternity while her lady’s maid had wrangled her brown hair into something other than its usual lifeless brown bun. Internally, she had wrestled with the futility of it all. Surely, her time would be better spent poring over the ledgers or improving her Latin vocabulary. All the fine dresses and hairdos in the world would not make up for her vast imperfections.
They reached the front door of the manor, where a butler greeted them warmly.
“I do not need a dance to enjoy myself tonight, Grandmother,” said Georgina, giving the Dowager Viscountess a short smile. “I shall have plenty to do helping Lydia find a suitable match.”
Although her half-sister was into just her second season, she already had a raft of suitors in her wake. Georgina suspected they would be celebrating Lydia’s marriage before too long.
“There will be no need for that,” the Dowager said airily. “I am already well on my way to securing a match for Lydia.”
The two sisters stopped walking. “What?” they said in unison. A few paces ahead, Marcus kept walking for a moment, then turned back in confusion.
“You have secured me a match?” Lydia’s voice was a sharp whisper.
“Calm yourself, child,” the Dowager murmured, ushering her grandchildren toward the ballroom. Her footsteps click-clacked noisily against the tiled floor of the hallway. “The match is no certainty. I have merely secured you a courtship.”
“With who?” Lydia’s eyes were wide beneath the silky fabric of her mask.
“With the Duke of Levinton.”
Georgina’s eyebrows shot up.
The Duke of Levinton? How is such a thing possible?
She had never met the Duke before, but talk of him was rife throughout theton. At thirty, he was still yet to marry and showed no signs of being eager to do so. “I thought the Duke was a sworn bachelor,” Georgina said, swapping surprised glances with her sister.
