Page 1 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

Chapter One

London—1813

It was thefinal night of the Season—and Rachel St. Clair hadn’t landed a husband.

It certainly wasn’t from lack of trying. She had attended every event to which she’d received an invitation. Balls. Card parties. Garden parties. The theatre and opera. She’d danced practically every dance, sometimes even when blisters formed on her feet. That’s how much she’d liked dancing. She’d been on walks and drives and rides with eligible gentlemen. She’d even kissed a few. Three. Almost four.

And nothing.

She’d been sought after by many men of all ages and proved quite popular. Rachel liked people—and they sensed that when with her. She believed she was a good conversationalist. She was outgoing and happy. People proclaimed she was a delight to be around.

So why hadn’t any of the men of thetonappealed to her?

Maybe she needed a dashing war hero. England’s war with Bonaparte still raged on. Perhaps, her one true love was on the battlefield even now, leading men as they charged against the enemy. If so, this bloody war better be over soon because she wanted a husband.

Leah had found one. Almost the very first night. Her best friend had danced with Lord Lock once and had been utterly smitten with him.

If her best friend could find love, surely Rachel could do the same. But not this Season. After all, how many young women waited until the last ball of the last night to fall in love?

She glanced and watched Leah debating what to wear tonight. They’d been best friends for two years, ever since Leah’s sister married Rachel’s brother. That was one of her problems. Jeremy and Catherine were so in love, it was almost disgusting. All of society remarked on how the Duke and Duchess of Everton acted as newlyweds. They doted on one another. They constantly told the other “I love you”. Rachel couldn’t avoid catching them kissing. In hallways. The library. The stables. At breakfast. She wanted what the pair had. It was important to her that a man look at her in the way Catherine did her brother. It was as necessary as air for her to find a titled gentleman who would also worship her as Jeremy did his wife.

Why couldn’t she find love?

“Do you think Alex would prefer the sky blue ball gown or the mint green one?” Leah asked.

Rachel pushed herself off the bed. “Alford is mad about you no matter what you wear. In fact, he would probably prefer you wear nothing at all,” she said saucily.

“Rachel!” Leah blushed furiously.

“Don’t hide it. Celebrate the fact that he’s over the moon in love with you, Leah. You’ve told me what his kisses make you feel like.”

That was another problem. Rachel had asked and from what Leah told her, the way Alford kissed was nothing like the gentlemen Rachel had encountered. Leah said her fiancé’s kisses sent her to heaven and back. That the more they kissed, the hungrier they both seemed for more.

The total opposite of Rachel’s experience.

“I say wear whatever you wish,” she continued. “Alford will love you in any color. So you might as well please yourself.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“Does it matter?”

Leah came and drew Rachel into a tight embrace. “It will happen for you. I know it will. Just not this Season.” She released her and returned to the wardrobe.

“At least Jeremy isn’t pushing me out the door,” Rachel joked. “He and Catherine sat me down a month ago and asked me if I felt anyone was special. When I told them no, Catherine, in particular, emphasized how I shouldn’t feel pressured to wed just anyone in order to be wed. She said her father had also given her permission to take her time and not rush into anything.”

Of course, they both knew Catherine would have married Jeremy at the end of her Season if fate had not intervened and kept them apart for five years. Rachel supposed that’s why they were so open in their affection. They’d lost those years and probably tried to make up for it even now.

“Wear the green,” she suggested. “It makes your eyes a deeper shade of green.”

“Very well. It is one of my favorites.”

They both dressed, Rachel donning a lavender ball gown that complemented her St. Clair coal black hair and emerald eyes. They sat and gossiped about different people who would be present at tonight’s ball as the maid arranged their hair.

She picked up her reticule and slid it onto her wrist as Leah did the same.

“Promise me you’ll be open tonight,” Leah instructed. “Even if you’ve danced with someone before or he’s brought you flowers or escorted you to the park. Don’t shut anyone out. Give every man there a chance.”

“I will,” Rachel promised easily, knowing she had little to no chance of falling in love tonight. No one new would appear on the scene. It would be the same men she’d spent all Season with.

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