Chapter One

“Poppycock,” Lady Ester Richmond announced. After all, what was one to say to such a thing, anyway?

The three girls considered her, with ill-disguised interest.

“Pish posh,” Ester declared to the silent trio.

Ester rolled her eyes, looking at each of her friends in turn. Marie, fair-haired and owner of exquisite china-blue eyes, blinked slowly even as her lips twitched with mirth. Penelope, blonde as well, only ashy, widened her hazel eyes in prudish surprise. Ester turned her attention to the final member of their party.

Caroline’s gaze didn’t waver from Ester’s, as though ascertaining whether Ester truly did think marriage was unnecessary or if she was once again trying to shock them with her free-thinking ways.

Ester sighed with exasperation. “We are pawns. Our fathers arrange a suitable match and we are expected to bow to those wishes with the remaining years of our lives. What if I dislike Mr. Welby, above all else? I have yet to meet the man, and Father is set to read the banns himself.”

“What if you do like him, Esse?” reasoned Marie.

“Yes,” agreed Penelope. “Mother says she came to care for Father once she knew him better. Perhaps you will as well.”

“If I go to London for a season and meet this Mr. Welby fellow, my father will think I have come to an understanding. I won’t do it.” Ester warmed to her argument.

She could discover she liked Mr. Welby, but as yet, she had no information on the man. Ignorance did not sit well with her. It smacked of blind acceptance. “You’re quiet, Caroline. What do you think?”

Caroline tapped her lip with her forefinger. “I think you will do as you deem fit and confound your father for it. I think you really mean to ask what is to be done.”

Ester beamed at her, “Precisely.”

“Then yours is a very different question. I think we have to consider your father’s request,” Caroline held up her hand to stay Ester’s retort, “while satisfying your requirements. Do you detest the idea of marriage, or are you rebelling against your father’s decision?”

“I suppose I will marry someday,” Ester said. “But only to a man I choose who allows me my freedoms.”

The three friends nodded their agreement.

“Then we compromise,” Caroline reasoned.

Penelope glanced from one lady to the next. “Ester cannot disobey her father. He wouldn’t choose a poor match for her.”

“So we agree,” returned Marie, an impish grin teased a dimple from her right cheek. “We will join you in London as your father allowed. While we are there,” she nodded to Ester, “we will find Mr. Welby and discover his character to your satisfaction. Then we can dissuade him from a suit if you don’t care for him. If you decide to carry on with the wedding, your father will be more than pleased. If you decide to cry off,” she turned to Penelope, “we will give him to Penelope, who cares naught for love.”

Marie winked at Penelope’s shocked gasp. “I jest, Penny.”

Ester giggled. “Aren’t you clever, Marie? But I may have to add my own condition to the plan. I must be certain Mr. Welby is the man of character my father expects.” The beginnings of a plan tickled the edges of her imagination.

Marie leaned in, willingness to conspire in Ester’s latest scheme evidenced in every fiber.

Penelope glanced over her shoulder toward the closed door of the library.

Caroline folded her hands in her lap and waited. She cocked an eyebrow.

“We will do as Marie suggested, but with a slight difference.” Ester’s gaze darted between her friends.

Penelope groaned.

“I’ll go to the soirees. I’ll dance at the balls. But I will go as a man.”