Page 1 of Brazen

Chapter One

Mia Allerton had never considered herself a gambling woman. But then, until fourteen months ago, she hadn’t realized that every day of her twenty-three years had been a huge gamble. Their current gamble proved they’d learned nothing from past mistakes, though she hoped she’d be proven wrong.

Mia stood anxiously alongside her aunt in a semi-private corner of the ballroom and watched her sister dance. Thankfully, the orchestra played a minuet. For all Angeline’s grace, she wasn’t a good dancer. The minuet, however, with its simple steps and liberal dose of curtsies—no one curtsied more prettily than Angeline—was manageable.

Angeline’s dance partner, Mr. Joseph Hastings, the second son of a well-to-do baron, was a fine young gentleman, and Angeline smiled up at him with more enthusiasm than she had shown any other gentleman that evening. He was the third gentleman that night to look at Angeline with adoration, so that Mia dared hope their plan to secure a husband for her sister might actually work.

Guilt niggled. They didn’t plan on lying. Not really.

From the corner of her eye, Mia caught sight of a young couple as they passed through the open balcony doors to her right and disappeared into the night. She longed for a stroll in the garden. The small ballroom had grown terribly stuffy. Perhaps when Angeline started her next dance, she would escape for a breath of cool evening air.

Aunt Leana accepted champagne from a passing waiter. When he left earshot, she leaned close and whispered, “I do believe Mr. Hastings is more smitten with Angeline than even Mr. Lorne. He simply cannot take his eyes off her. He will do nicely, don’t you agree?”

“He does seem perfect,” Mia replied.

Aunt Leana looked at her. “Cease worrying, Mia. Any gentleman would be lucky to have Angeline as a wife. We are merely ensuring that Society doesn’t interfere with true love.”

Mia glanced at her aunt. “True love? Is that not a bit much?”

Her aunt lifted her chin. “Not at all. Angeline’s husband will adore her. In fact, he will thank us for not telling him the truth until they are married. Are you certain Joshua will not help us? He could easily put the thought in Mr. Hasting’s head that Angeline has three other suitors, any of whom will surely whisk her away any hour now.”

“We have discussed this, Aunt. If you make the mistake of telling Joshua our plans to marry Angeline off in this manner, he will likely lock us in our rooms—and he’s large enough to do just that.” This last year, her younger brother had grown several inches, and his shoulders had broadened.

“You’re right, of course,” Aunt Leana said. “I am simply anxious to see Angeline safely wed before… well, you know. If tonight is any indication, one of the young men she has met will be so overcome with passion that he will talk Angeline into eloping.”

Mia should tell her aunt how wrong she was to hope for such a thing, but Mia prayed for the very same scenario. Thus far, their father’s crime had appeared as a small footnote in the papers. But if the wrong person learned that Viscount Ardsley presently served a five-year prison sentence for theft, and began discussing the crime in local circles, no respectable man would come near Angeline. Just as bad, if they lost Kaerndal Castle to creditors, it would be impossible to hide their fallen status from the world. Mia shuddered to think of Angeline relegated to life as the wife of a country squire. Even that might be out of her reach if her father’s imprisonment became well known.

“William Graham Allerton should be ashamed of himself,” Aunt Leana muttered.

Mia had heard the same lament from her aunt since their father’s arrest.

“It is bad enough he spent the last twenty years chasing after every skirt in Scotland, but to steal from a duke’s wife when we had no need of money.”

“Not really twenty years, Aunt.” Mia nodded at a passing couple and lowered her voice. “You said Father was loyal to my mother’s memory for nearly five years. That means he’s been a cad for only fifteen years.”

Leana shot her a narrow-eyed look of mild irritation. “It is his fault you never married.”

Mia blinked in surprise. “Blaming him for my spinsterhood is going a bit too far, do you not think?”

“Not at all. Most respectable gentlemen do not want a rake for a father-in-law.”

“ ‘Tis more likely no one loved me well enough to overlook his reputation,” Mia said.

Aunt Leana sniffed. “Fools, every last one of them.”

Mia gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you.” Mia returned her attention to her sister.

Angeline lifted her skirt and stepped in time with the music—almost—and smiled up at Mr. Hastings.

“She really is beautiful,” Leana said.

To say Angeline was beautiful was like saying the sun was hot. Where Mia had inherited her father’s fair hair and pale blue eyes, Angeline had their mother’s raven hair and emerald green eyes, along with her willowy figure. Mia had inherited the fuller figure of Aunt Leana, along with four more inches to her height than Angeline. Thankfully, it wasn’t Mia who needed to marry.

“I see Mrs. Penton,” Aunt Leana said. “I had better say hello and catch up on the latest gossip.”

Mia knew she meant make sure no one is gossiping about us.

Mia glanced in the direction Aunt Leana stared, at a rotund woman who sat near a table filled with sweetmeats. Mrs. Penton nibbled on a pastry while listening intently to something Lady Jessica said. Mia tensed. Were they talking about Father?