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Caleb frowned as he watched his mother fidget in the great hall of Derry’s country home. He wished she would snap out of the nervous state she’d been in since they arrived in England. It wasn’t her, and he didn’t like it.

A brief smile did flit across her always anxious face as she studied the room; his mother said, “This space is breathtaking.”

It was, Caleb thought. He glanced around, taking in the roaring fire in the massive hearth and the stained-glass windows depicting a famous Greek myth. Courtney, his only sister, sighed. “Someday, my future husband must build me a house with a room like this.”

Their brother Cordell snorted. “You better hope he is as rich as sin.”

Colleen Monteith, their mother, shushed them all. “It isn’t appropriate to discuss money.”

They all looked at her, shocked. She’d been scolding them since they arrived in the country, insisting some of their behavior wasn’t done on this side of the pond.

Truthfully, their mother was driving them all a little crazy.

Caleb had the title. Why was she trying to mold them into perfect English peers?

Courtney, the less blunt child, looped her arm through their mother’s. “Don’t fret, Mother. We will get the hang of it, or at least Caleb will. The rest of us will escape back to New York City before anyone discovers we are heathens.”

“Thank god,” Cordell muttered.

Their mother shot him a wounded look. He sighed. “I love you, but Father wouldn’t want us to change to please these people.”

She fixed his brother’s cravat. “I don’t want anyone to change. I want everything to go well for Caleb. He is a marquess now.”

A grateful look flashed across Cordell’s face. Caleb had no doubt he was thanking his lucky stars for being a year younger. His brothers both had a good chuckle when they were informed that, as the oldest brother, Caleb would become a marquess.

“Mother, I see Lady Davenport. Wasn’t she the one who mentioned that amazing sweet shop? Let’s go speak with her so we can get more details,” Courtney suggested.

Their mother’s eyes lit up. “Yes, excuse us.”

Caleb grabbed a drink for himself and Cordell. His brother muttered, “I don’t know how you will put up with all her worrying about your behavior. I’ve never seen her so stressed. I’m starting to wonder if she should stay with you.”

Their mother had been adamant that she would return to England with him, but he wasn’t sure she and the country suited.

Still, he would be patient. In New York City, his parents were considered the elite.

He suspected their mother, here, still saw herself as the maid who ran off with the man too good for her.

Their father would be outraged by such a thought.

She would come around. “I will give her time. Eventually, she will realize that what anyone says about her or Father matters not.”

Cordell snorted. “Good luck.”

He sipped the champagne he held as his eyes landed on Celeste Hathaway. She looked stunning. The lady stood with the Marquess of Derry and Sebastian Devons. There was a closeness between the three of them that irritated him. Caleb took a deep breath, telling himself he was being ridiculous.

Still, his initial thought wasn’t wrong.

Hathaway was gorgeous. She wore a deep purple gown that accentuated her curves.

An amethyst necklace lay nestled on her breasts.

She took a deep breath, and it shifted ever so slightly.

He itched to run his hand along the chain.

Her blonde hair was no longer falling down her back but in a very elegant bun at her nape.

The temptation to see it falling around her shoulders filled him.

“Who is she?” Cordell asked, following his gaze.

He scowled at his brother, who looked at him in surprise. Cordell raised a hand in surrender. “Down, Caleb. I didn’t know you had already formed an attachment.”

“I haven’t,” he bit out.

His brother laughed and started walking towards Hathaway, Devons, and Derry. Caleb followed on his heels. Cordell added. “Relax. I promise she is yours.”

But she wasn’t. He was behaving like a possessive ass. They’d only just met.

They stopped before the trio, and Cordell said, “Good evening.”

Caleb nodded at the men and then nodded to her. “Good evening, Miss Hathaway.”

Devons' gaze darted between him and her. “You two have met?”

A blush highlighted her cheeks. “Mr. Monteith saved me from some of Derry’s angry geese.”

Devons chuckled. “They are mean.”

Caleb grinned at her, ignoring everyone’s confusion. For some reason, he didn’t want this lady to know he was now the Marquess of Haven. Did that make him an awful person? He insisted, “You would have persevered.”

Hathaway wrinkled her dainty nose, and he had the absurd desire to kiss her there. Hell, he wanted to run his lips along more than one place on her body. The need was so strong it took his breath away. They’d only just met. She smiled at him. “You are too nice, Mr. Monteith.”

He would have to tell her about his title. Caleb didn’t want her to think he was trying to make her look foolish.

“Lord Haven,” a woman whose daughter was on the marriage mart, interrupted.

He stiffened and wished he’d had a few more moments with Hathaway before the interruption. She looked at him, confused. He turned to Lady Gettle and smiled. “Hello, my lady.”

“My daughter doesn’t have anyone to accompany her into dinner. Have you chosen someone?”

Caleb gritted his teeth, knowing he wanted to lie and say yes, but didn’t want to offend the pushy woman for his mother’s sake. “I would love to.”

Lady Gettle beamed at him. “Splendid. I will retrieve Melanie and bring her over to join you.”

He turned back, and Hathaway lifted a brow. “I didn’t realize you were the new Marquess of Haven, my lord.”

All traces of the playfulness that had existed between them disappeared. The bell chimed just as Lady Gettle’s daughter arrived. Hathaway walked herself into the dining room, not bothering to look back. Cordell glanced at him, amused, and he scowled in return.

***

Celeste studied Monteith, or perhaps she should say Haven, now that she knew he was a lord. Distaste and disappointment churned in her stomach. She’d enjoyed speaking with him during their brief interaction. Why did he have to be a peer?

Not that any of it mattered. It wasn’t as if she were interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone.

Her work at the Den kept her far too busy for that.

Her gaze discreetly roamed over the rugged man.

He laughed at something the young Lady Melanie said.

He would enthrall the ton . He certainly didn’t look like any other lord.

She pressed her lips together and silently acknowledged that she was disappointed that even a liaison with him was out of the question.

Celeste didn’t spend time with lords. She took a sip of her wine, enjoying the burn of it.

Her mother had taught her that gentlemen were not to be trusted, ever.

She pushed the dark thought away as she forced herself to stop perusing Monteith-no, Haven, she corrected herself again.

Derry’s wife, Sophia, smirked at her. “He will certainly send all the ladies on the marriage mart into a tizzy this season.”

Celeste feigned confusion, and Sophia giggled. “I love my husband, but even I can acknowledge that man exudes something that isn’t often seen in London.”

She forced herself not to glance at him again. “I’m sure he will find himself a proper English rose to cement his place in society.”

“I think he likes you,” Sophia whispered.

“You know my rule.”

“Don’t start any matchmaking schemes,” Derry told his wife. “Celeste already warned Devons about it.”

Sophia glared at her husband. “Go back to your own conversation.”

He snorted but did as she asked. Celeste decided she needed to end this. She adored Sophia but didn’t want to be set up with someone. “I have no interest."

Sophia pressed her lips together as if she wanted to argue. Celeste added, “Please let this go.”

“If you insist, but I think the two of you would be such a fantastic match,” her friend said dreamily.

Celeste did her best to suppress a sigh. Besotted fools surrounded her.

After dinner, they all reconvened in the drawing room.

Celeste stood with Haven, his family, Devons, and Devons’ wife.

Her skin prickled, knowing the man was perusing her.

He smiled softly and lifted a glass of champagne to his lips.

His broad, solid frame would undoubtedly make him stand out from all the lords in London.

Devon’s wife, Diana, asked, “Are you excited to enjoy the Season, Lord Haven?”

He jerked his gaze away from Celeste and frowned. “Not quite. New York City hosts similar events, and honestly, I’ve always shied away from them.”

“Not anymore,” his mother stated firmly. “Now that we are settling in England, my son hopes to find a proper bride.”

Haven’s brother seemed to choke on his drink. Celeste suspected it was because of his mother’s bluntness. Haven winced. “Eventually, I hope to marry.”

“Possibly this Season,” his mother added.

An awkwardness hung over the group. Haven looped his arm through his mother’s and smiled. “My mother is excited that one of her children may settle down soon. It seems I am first on her list. I imagine all parents in England are similar.”

Celeste found it endearing that Haven, instead of making his mother feel foolish, accepted her as she was. She found herself smiling at him. His brother held out his arm. “Mother, how about we explore the gardens Lady Derry told us about?”

Diana smiled. “My husband and I will join you.”

That left only her and Haven. The room was crowded with people, but for some reason, nerves filled her.

He made her feel as if all her senses were amplified.

It was a heightened awareness she couldn’t remember feeling with anyone else.

Celeste pushed it away. “It sounds like you won’t leave the Season unattached, Haven. ”

He laughed. “My mother means well. She wants me to be happy here.”

“By becoming a proper lord?”

Haven shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “She and I may have differing views on what will make me happy. What society says has never mattered much to me.”

“London might be quite different.”

He smirked. “Spend a few weeks with the New York City elite. They are just as harsh.”

They were quiet for a moment, but then he said, “I would love to see you after this house party.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not someone you would associate with back in London.”

He frowned. “You are at a proper English house party.”

“Yes, but the Derrys are close friends of mine.”

Haven smiled. “Well, perhaps I’ve decided the Derrys and you are my type of people.”

“Do you know how I know them?”

He shook his head. She smiled at him, knowing her following words would probably end his friendliness. “I’m part-owner with Derry and Devons in the gentlemen’s club, the Den.”

His brows shot up in surprise. She’d clearly thrown him off. She took a sip of her champagne. “You see, Lord Haven, I’m what is considered something of a scandalous woman.”

His green eyes filled with amusement. “Or a woman who has made something of herself. Some might call that commendable, Hathaway.”

Confusion filled her that he seemed unfazed by her background. Didn’t this man understand that lords like him were meant to find proper young ladies?

“Caleb,” his mother called from another area of the drawing room.

He smiled and leaned closer to Celeste. “Was your explanation supposed to make me find you less interesting? I’m not sure it worked.”

Celeste frowned at him as he walked away. Once he was immersed in the London season, he would understand. She was sure of that.