Dear Love Lady,

I am to be married. My beau is a man who has been my friend for as long as I can remember. He is handsome and kind, but . . . he is a second son. I have been approached by the first son of a Duke recently, but I am on the fence. Do I reject his advances and marry my childhood friend? Or do I entertain the prospect of a better future with the Duke’s heir and forsake my friend. What should I do?

A Confused Maiden.

 Dear Confused Maiden,

There is nothing to consider. You spoke of your betrothed’s kindness and looks, but those are of no consequence to your future. 

Second sons are good for a few stolen moments, experiencing love, or even courtship. You may entertain them for the enjoyment of feeling your heart race, but nothing more. 

Marriage is a serious affair. It is a choice with lifelong consequences. As such, you must choose wisely.  Always go for the title. Secure your future. 

I believe you will make the right choice. 

The Love Lady

Chapter One

It was a hot August day, and Emma Lawrence fanned her face slowly, keeping the beads of sweat threatening to pop out on her skin at bay. The deep flush on her cheeks as she walked, however, was not caused by the sweltering heat. That was caused by another, even more troubling matter.

For the first time in her life, Emma was in public minus her stockings and chemise. Without the usual layers underneath, her skirts and petticoat felt too light. It would not have been so bad if she was in the safety and comfort of her home. Instead, she was at a house party hosted by Lord Dubair, the of Beldem, and his wife, Lady Dubair.

The party was well-attended, with many of the guests being young and unmarried, as the Marquess and his lady were a new couple eager to show off their affluent married life to those in their social circle. Emma and her best friend Charity Magdale had been invited and had arrived in time for luncheon. After settling into their assigned chambers, the pair joined the rest of the party for an afternoon of activities planned by their hosts.

Being the height of summer, many of the activities were taking place in the extensive gardens and surrounding park of the Dubair mansion. The majority of the gentlemen had retired to a nearby meadow for a leisurely game of cricket, leaving the ladies free to amuse themselves with a variety of appropriately ladylike pastimes.

Emma and Charity had just finished chatting with their hosts, and it had been an exceedingly uncomfortable, if not disturbing, experience to be subjected to such close scrutiny while wondering if the sun was shining through her dress, or if the wind was molding her skirts against her bottom.

“Charity, you shall be the death of me! I swear I can feel a breeze grazing my bare buttocks like a soldier baring his behind to deride his enemies!” she whispered fiercely in her friend’s ear, pulling her closer by the arm as they sauntered about, trying to find something to do among the arranged activities.

Much to Emma’s annoyance, Charity seemed to find her plight hilarious. Her blue eyes crinkled at the sides, and she covered her mouth with one hand, stifling her chortle. “What?” she said with a laugh. “You manage to come up with the most colorful expressions. You’re not who you are for nothing, I suppose.”

Emma’s blonde eyebrows lowered, and she cast a quick glance around to make sure no one had heard. “Keep your voice down, will you?! I’m anonymous for a reason!” she complained.

“Oh, please! You know I still believe you should be proud of your work. So many women look up to you and trust you with their lives,” Charity said for what seemed to Emma like the thousandth time.

Emma moaned, distraught. “Do you think people should be putting their lives in the hands of someone capable of doing something as reckless as this?”

“Oh, Emma! You act as though people can tell you’re without your undergarments,” Charity scoffed. “Even if they can, what does it matter? You owe them nothing.”

“It matters to me! I do not wish to be the subject of gossip,” Emma retorted. “Why, of all things, did you make me do this?”

“Make you? I did not make you. I merely suggested it as a possibility, but you are the one who went along with it. Remember, you agreed with me that you need more fun in your life.” Charity winked as she suddenly detached herself from Emma, her gaze on the cricket pitch not far away. “Just as I’m about to.”

Emma watched her friend walk away elegantly, parasol poised, onto the freshly cut lawn surrounding the cricket pitch. The gentlemen players were informally attired, stripped down to shirt sleeves and waistcoats under the sweltering sun, deeply engaged in the complexities of the match. Charity soon joined the few other women who were watching the play. Emma narrowed her eyes, unimpressed by her friend abandoning her so blatantly, unable to explain her sudden interest in the game. No doubt, there was a gentleman behind it. “I find no fun in this,” she muttered to herself.

Normally, Emma was not the type to do something so silly as forego her underwear and go out in public. But on this occasion, when she had stupidly confessed to Charity about wanting more fun, her friend had dared her to go naked beneath her dress. It was supposed to prove she wasn’t a stick in the mud. So, she had accepted the dare despite her better judgement. Now, Charity was using it against her!

Emma briefly pondered the mystery of how she and Charity managed to maintain a relationship despite being so different. She was usually intolerant of such spirited people. They almost always clashed with her, accusing her of being too serious. Charity, however, had been dragging her around since they were children, and her unruly friend was directly and solely responsible for every single adventurous thing Emma had done as a child.

Now, she hoped the party would be distinctly unadventurous. Abandoned by Charity, who would usually be the one to make sure she participated in at least one of the activities on offer, Emma found herself wandering aimlessly. The Dubair’s country estate was beautiful. The verdant lawns which spread out on each side of her were dotted with different canopies, beneath which various groups of ladies sat or milled about, talking or participating in the various goings on.

Emma saw the archery section, where a few ladies were giggling as they shot at the targets. Usually, that was where she would go whenever Charity was there to nag her. She excelled at archery, and usually did her fair share of showing off her skills there before finding somewhere quiet to sit and watch the rest. But Charity was not there now, so she avoided everyone and headed towards the back gardens.

As the din of all the activities faded behind the house, she relished the quiet. She was admiring the flower borders when she noticed a lake not far ahead. Emma gasped at its beauty—it looked like a glimpse of heaven in the heat! She bit her lip nervously. She wanted to go into the water, but that would be reckless, wouldn’t it? What if someone saw her?

She remembered Charity’s words all of a sudden. “You don’t know how to have fun! Just for today, whenever you’re faced with a choice, think to yourself, what would Charity do? And do that!” Emma knew her friend would not care a whit about how scandalous it would be to be caught paddling in the lake, and she would probably even jump into the water naked. For Emma, going in naked was too far, but she thought she might at least cool her feet. She hurried to the water and took off her shoes, dipping her toes in from the shore. A sigh of relief left her lips immediately at the coolness of the water.

…

He hated her! Every other emotion seemed to pale in comparison to the anger he felt, and it was the only thing keeping him from wallowing in sadness. Martin Huntington trailed behind his brother, a sour look on his face. The last thing he needed was to be at a party, but his brother, Stephen, thought differently and had dragged him here regardless. His heart was broken. At least, that’s what he assumed the terrible feeling in his chest and belly was.

He knew he wasn’t the most serious of men, and he liked his fair share of fun, so Martin hadn’t really fallen in love before. He’d never taken anyone seriously enough for such feelings to manifest. It was different with Theodosia Hummings, however.

He had known her since childhood, so he harbored a fondness for her already. She was pleasant and quiet. A few months ago, he had grown tired of running around and being reckless for the sake of mindless pleasure and decided to settle down. He’d started courting her, and he was convinced it was the best decision he’d ever made.

For the first time, everyone seemed proud of him, and it was as though he was finally on the right track with his life. He was happy, and it was because of Theodosia—she made him happy. Wasn’t that love? They had gotten engaged with the blessing of both their families, and she had seemed content. Her sweet, smiling demeanor had never changed. Thus, when she had suddenly demanded the engagement be broken off before it was publicly announced, it had come as a shock.

It made no sense to Martin. He had attempted to speak with her privately in order to find out what he had done wrong. She had assured him that he had done absolutely nothing, her disposition as pleasant and reasonable as always. It was as if the heartbreaking news she was delivering to him was as insignificant as her telling him when they were children that they had run out of his favorite snacks.

He had been floored—stunned by her lack of emotion about it all. In addition to that, she also had no trouble telling him she was leaving him to court the first son of a duke because it was better for her future. She said it as if she expected him to nod and agree that her decision was sound, even showing him the ladies’ magazine column she claimed had helped her make her decision.

“Love Lady from the depths of Hell! If only I knew the identity of that evil witch!” Martin muttered below his breath.

He was quiet, but his older brother was close enough to hear him still. Stephen turned around, his brown hair catching the light in a way that made it seem golden. His deep-blue eyes were full of worry that Martin immediately wanted to shrug off. Everyone had been looking at him like that since he had been jilted. He would have preferred it if instead of these awful pitying looks, people had simply berated him for being unable to hang on to his betrothed. Ridicule would have been much more bearable.

“What are you muttering about again? You’ve been doing that more often lately. Actually, you have been doing many strange things… We are all very worried about you,” Stephen said.

Martin couldn’t argue with that, but Stephen had no idea that one of the ‘strange’ things he had been doing recently was buying the daily ladies’ magazine, which published the so-called ‘Love Lady’ column among its pages. None of his family knew about that. But he supposed it was understandable that they were all concerned about him. Reading that harridan’s advice column every day fueled his anger and hate. Oh, how he wished to get revenge for the damage she had done to his happiness!

Martin tried to turn his attention to the matter at hand—Stephen had been invited to attend a house party being held by Lord Dubair and his wife, and he had insisted that Martin accompany him. Having been warmly greeted by Lord and Lady Dubair and shown their allotted chambers, they were now strolling across the lawns of the mansion, idly regarding the various entertainments laid on for the amusement of the guests.

He sighed, “Why have you brought me here, Brother?” Stephen rarely attended house parties unless there was business to be done. He was a very busy man, preparing to take up their father’s title. But he was also rather shy and much more serious than Martin.

“Why, to cheer you up, of course,” Stephen said.

“Ha! You have brought me to a house party to cheer me up? I thought you wanted me to spend less time at this sort of gatherings.” Martin couldn’t help but chuckle. The family must be truly worried about me to resort to such tactics.

“Well, yes! I want you to have some fun, take your mind off everything, and stop feeling sorry for yourself! It’s not the end of the world that your engagement has been broken off. Who knows, you might even find yourself a wife here!” Stephen teased.

Martin was very unimpressed with that speech, but patted his brother on the back gratefully. “All right all right, I’ll try to heed your advice,” he said more to appease his brother rather than follow his lead. “Now, look over there, I’m quite sure I saw Baron Rosevelt just now. Haven’t you recently started working with him? It wouldn’t be proper if you didn’t go over to greet a business partner, would it?”

Martin waited till his brother was a safe distance away before heaving a heavy sigh and letting his shoulders slump again. The possibility of him cheering up was rather slim—he felt bitter and wronged. It was annoying how some nameless, faceless woman had single-handedly uprooted the future he had planted and nurtured in his mind.

All these women hanging onto every word of hers—what made her so special anyway? Why did her opinion matter so much? From just a few lines of a letter, she had branded him unfit for marriage. Because he was a second son, she had relegated him to the background as mere entertainment and not a serious prospect. It stung more than he wanted to admit, particularly because he had previously gone around offering himself as exactly that—free entertainment for any ladies who caught his fancy.

He already knew people took him less seriously than they did his brother. But it had never bothered him before. He saw how hard Stephen had to work and how restricted his life was. Martin had never envied him. Perhaps he could have been more serious, or at least taken on a few responsibilities, but he had preferred to spend his youth frivolously. It was infuriating to admit, but he couldn’t even refute the Love Lady’s argument.

He stood alone for a while, watching the activities and ignoring all conversation, the complete opposite of the way he usually acted at such parties.

He was exhausted already and didn’t want to spend another moment out in the open. Walking slowly and keeping an eye on his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t being followed, Martin stole around the mansion into the back gardens. He was very skilled at making such escapes, used as he was to sneaking around with various ladies whenever necessary. He shook his head at himself.

At least I’ll get some peace and quiet in the gardens to calm my thoughts. He doubted anyone would be in the back gardens anyway.

Just as he completed that thought, as though to prove him wrong, a scream cut through the air. “Help! Help me, please, somebody! I’m going to die!”

Martin started. It was a woman’s voice, and her fear was palpable, propelling his legs to begin running in that direction before he could even think. A lady was in danger! Could he reach her in time?

Chapter Two

Emma had never come to regret her actions so bitterly. In fact, she was regretting every moment and every decision she had taken that had led her to her current predicament. After dipping her toes in the lake, she had bent over to touch it with her hands and pat her face and neck lightly with the cooling water. All had still been well at that point. However, things had taken a turn for the worse when she decided it would be better to sit by the shore.

There was a log sitting in the water, and, given the dry surface, she had assumed it was stable. She waded over to it, her skirts gathered all the way to her knees. The moment she lowered herself to sit on it, everything went wrong—the log tipped over, taking Emma with it.

Having no support, Emma had dropped bottom-first into the lake. That would not have been so bad if the water had been shallow. The worst that could have happened was a soaked behind, which would have been visible to everyone because her dress was so light and her underwear nonexistent. Even so, it wouldn’t have been so bad because she could have just stayed in the gardens by herself until her dress dried. Unfortunately, fate had different plans for her.

Because, while it was indeed shallow near the shore, it quickly dipped steeply, becoming very deep very rapidly. Emma was thrown into the water, with no ground beneath her feet… and she just kept sinking.

Even that would not have been so terrible if Emma could swim. Her entire body would have been soaked, but she would have made it out. But, alas, she had never learned how to. There was something about the way the water took control of her body when she was submerged in it that bothered her.

Emma relished control. Controlled actions, control over her emotions, control over her future, control over her body, and controlled spaces, with clear rules to follow. She hated it when things went out of order, out of her own reach. As such, surrendering herself to something as unstable as water was something she had found she could not, would not, do.

Emma was regretting yet another foolish decision as the water rushed up around her ears and into her nostrils. Her  first reaction was panic. She thrashed around, attempting to resurface but was powerless against the waves.

Fortunately, the water pushed her back up just high enough for her to grab onto the log. Emma resurfaced, coughing and sputtering, clutching it for dear life. Her eyes were wide with fear as she searched for a way out of the situation. Alas, there was none. Holding fast to the log, it drifted further and further away from the shore.

If I try to reach the shore, I will have to let go of the log. I cannot risk doing that. She had just seen the gates of the afterlife a few moments ago, and whimpered in fear. What made me think that getting in the water was a good idea? It was stupid from the start! Who cares about the heat? I should have just asked a maid for a drink! What do I do now?!

.
Emma’s heart was thumping in her chest. She couldn’t get out of the situation by herself. Her legs were flailing in the deep water, with no bottom in sight. She needed help, but when she scanned the banks of the lake, there was no one nearby. Everyone was still at the front of the property. She wondered how loudly she would have to shout to get someone to hear her. But ladies were not supposed to scream, were they?

She didn’t have time to worry about that, though. The next moment, she realized she was drifting even further away losing all inhibition then. “Help! Help me, please! I’m going to die!”

She already had tears streaming down her face by the time she saw a figure appear by the lake. She couldn’t see who it was, but the voice calling out to her was a man’s.

“Are you all right, miss?” the man asked, his breathing slightly heavy, as if he had run all the way to reach her.

Emma glared in his general direction since she couldn’t see him properly through her tears. “Do I look all right?!”

She heard him chuckle, and a sob escaped her lips without her being able to stop it. “Please, help me… I can’t hold on much longer!”

He threw his jacket and shoes aside and jumped right in. Emma tried to remain calm as he swam over to her, closing her eyes and taking slow, deep breaths. She felt a strong arm wrap around her and the waves shift as he drew her closer to the shore. As she clutched his shirt, relief washed over her.

She couldn’t help but be impressed by his strength. He lifted her so effortlessly that she felt like air. It was comforting, and he made her feel safe—so much so that we they reached the shore and he released her, she almost felt sorry. She was, however, relieved to be back on solid ground.

Emma saw him for the first time when he bent over to pick up his jacket and shoes. Her heart skipped a beat. His dark hair was wet, and he brushed it away from his face with his hand. His eyes were a light blue that bordered on gray, and they were breathtaking.  His shirt was clinging to his frame, revealing the outline of his well-muscled body. He was a beautiful man, to be sure.

But she pushed the thought aside for the time being. Her legs were trembling, but she managed to stand up straight, giving him a curtsy. “Thank you for saving me,” she said.

…

As Martin looked at the strange woman he had pulled out of the lake, a smile tugged at his lips. When he asked if she was alright, she responded sarcastically, which he found adorable. Her golden blonde hair, albeit soaking wet, was lovely. Her long lashes framing her honey-brown eyes were golden as well, with water droplets clinging to them. He thought she looked angelic.

He wondered who she was. He was sure that if he had met such a beauty before, he would remember. She must have somehow managed to stay out of the public eye, which was quite hard to do. Every move one made in High Society was scrutinized, and people loved to gossip.

He knew he had a reputation that preceded him. He had made that inevitable with his youthful escapades. She, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have been featured in the gossip mills. If she was boring and a recluse, no doubt there would have been rumors about that. The lack of them indicated that she had found the perfect balance of belonging to the ton while having nothing of note to reveal about her.

However, if word of this incident got out, it would flood the gossip mills. If she had been discovered by a group of people, the news would have spread quickly among the guests. Nobody would ever forget. When he bent down to pick up his jacket and shoes, she struggled to her feet, curtsied to him, and thanked him for saving her.

It amused him that she had just been caught in a highly embarrassing situation yet tried to maintain her dignity. He thought she was doing quite a good job of it too. Her sodden clothes were clinging to her, putting her figure on full display. Her hips curved out nicely from her tapered waist, despite her slim figure. It was distracting, so he looked up at her eyes instead.

It was a good thing he did because he saw just in time how unfocused her eyes were. She was going to faint! Martin reached out and managed to catch her by the arm before she could topple over backwards. He pulled her into him, cradling her head as he slowly lowered her to the ground.“There, there, now, easy… it seems you have been more adversely affected than I thought.”

Martin felt immediately bad for having found the situation amusing. She had been putting up a brave front, so he had been slow to realize how violently she was shaking. With her in his arms now, he could feel the tremors still running through her body. She was struggling to take deep breaths, and her eyes were swimming.“It’s all right, relax. You’re safe now,” he said comfortingly.

She looked pale and terrified. He realized now that she had shouted at him because she was afraid. He pressed a palm against the side of her head and felt her pulse racing. It worried him, and he really wanted to help her. It was at times like these Martin was glad he had a lot of life experience. Thankfully, he knew what to do.

“All right, take deep breaths, not too quickly, slow down.”He moved over so he was nearer to her legs and grasped her ankles.“Pardon me, my lady, but it would be best if you lifted your feet above your head for a while. That will stop you from feeling faint.”

Nothing could have prepared Martin for the way the lady on the ground reacted. The moment he said those words, the trembling legs he had been holding suddenly gained strength and kicked at him with all their might. Martin was startled and thought she was having a seizure, so he grabbed both her legs and pinned them down. He looked up, only to find her glaring at him angrily once again.

Martin was confused by the look, but released her legs slowly. Had she thought he was trying to hurt her by lifting her legs? In hindsight, he realized it might have seemed that way, since she’d had no idea what he was trying to do, and she was clearly still disoriented.

“What is the matter? I am not going to hurt you. I just want you to try this technique, for it will help you to stop feeling so woozy,” Martin explained carefully. That did not stop her from continuing to writhe around, however.

…

Emma was mortified to the point where she wished the ground would open and swallow her whole, just to save her from the situation. She was grateful that the gentleman had both dragged her from the depths of the lake and caught her when she was about to fall, preventing her from possibly smashing her head on a rock. However, why was he so insistent that she lift her legs?! Despite her ordeal, she was painfully conscious of being naked beneath her skirts. If he lifted her legs, he would be able to see her private parts perfectly clearly!

He finally managed to get her legs up, and she could see the look of shock on his face. It was clear he had not been expecting to see what he saw. However, like a true gentleman, he quickly looked away. It was too late, though. He had already seen… everything! She could see the small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. She felt a flush heating her face and was sure her cheeks must be crimson with embarrassment. Her heart sank, and she began to think it would have been better if he had simply left her to faint. And if she could have gotten to her feet, she would have taken off running.

No man had ever seen those secret parts of her before, and now they had been displayed unceremoniously to a man whose name she did not know. Even though it was embarrassing, she soon began to feel the beneficial effects of having her legs up. She was just about to say so when a voice cut into their private moment.

“Hello? Who is that?” Emma, frozen in horror, managed to decipher the voice. It was Lady Dubair, their hostess. She turned panicked eyes to the gentleman.

“We shall be caught!” she gasped, imagining with horror what the gossip mongers and scandal sheets would have to say about her if the story ever got out. All her hard work aimed at giving people nothing to talk about would instantly be destroyed.

Emma lay on the ground, unable to move, quietly panicking, but the man acted swiftly and covered her legs with his coat. His gaze met hers, and he must have seen her confusion, for he simply pressed a finger to his lips. Then, their hostess appeared. Lady Dubair visibly balked at the sight of them in that position, and her mouth fell open, but no words came out.

“Ah, my apologies, my lady. I realize what this looks like, but I assure you, it is quite innocent. My fiancée has had an accident. She fell into the lake right after I asked her to marry me. I suppose she was overexcited. Isn’t that right, my darling?” He winked at Emma discreetly. She frowned, hardly able to believe her ears. His fiancée?!

However, Emma knew this was not a matter that could simply be overlooked. Lady Dubair had seen both their faces—she knew who they were and would certainly speak of it elsewhere. Emma had hoped that, in the moment, the man might have come up with a better plan to save them. Instead, he had just spouted some nonsense about proposing to her and them being engaged. It was a disaster! She did not even know his name, and she was sure he did not know hers. Yet, after this, people would think they were betrothed!

“Oh, my! How sweet! You two are already off to a passionate start!”Lady Dubair exclaimed, falling for the man’s lie.“Come now, follow me! We should go inside and get you two dried off and presentable again.”

Emma’s frown deepened, and she could feel a headache coming on. Lady Dubair turned around and snapped her fan open, already heading back towards the house. Emma’s reckless savior let out a breathy chuckle as he watched the lady go. He then got up and turned to Emma, offering his hand to help her to her feet.

Emma made to smack his hand away, then she noticed that Lady Dubair had paused and turned around to look at them, clearly waiting for them to catch up. So, she forced a gracious smile and took his hand, letting him help her up. The man snickered, clearly finding the situation amusing. The corners of Emma’s lips trembled as she fought to keep the smile on her face.

She let him drape his coat over her shoulders. Thankfully, it fell past her buttocks, concealing her naked silhouette through her wet dress. With her arm in his, she let him lead her after Lady Dubair towards the house. This is the last thing he will do for me. He will not, under any circumstances, get me to the altar.

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