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“ P apa, please don’t do this. Why the rush for me to marry?” Alicia asked desperately.

Her father’s only response was to tug at his coat as the carriage rolled to a stop.

“Papa!”

“You are a grown woman, Alicia. Already two-and-twenty,” he said sternly. “Most of the women you debuted with got married. If you do not find someone to wed by the end of this ball, I will take the decision out of your hands. Is that clear?”

Alicia stared at him, her heart thudding as she tried to formulate a response to the injustice being inflicted on her.

“I have coddled you for too long,” her father continued. “If I had chosen your fate myself, as I did for your sister, you would no longer be a burden to me.”

Alicia held back tears as a footman climbed down from the carriage and opened the door.

She leaned forward in one final attempt to reason with him.

“Papa, I am not without suitors. Many men have courted me this Season. Would you just give me a little more time to decide?”

Her father’s cold stare met hers. “You are out of time, daughter. If you wish to have any say in your future, then play your cards carefully and choose wisely.”

Alicia gripped the bench beneath her as a snarl left her throat.

Her father did not flinch, simply stepped down from the carriage and walked up the steps to the townhouse as if he did not have a care in the world.

Alicia couldn’t move. She stared at the opposite wall of the carriage, taking in the brocade, the smooth sheen of it, and the intricacy of the design.

Nothing but the best for my father.

Her nails ached as she dug her fingers into the wooden bench, blinking away the tears of rage that threatened to fall.

If only Jane were here.

Her older sister had long endured the brunt of their father’s whims. She, too, had been forced into a marriage, but thanks to her gentle nature, Jane and the Marquess of Riverton had, in time, found quiet happiness together.

Alicia scowled.

But I am not my sister.

The two of them could not have been more different. Jane was reserved, quiet, and poised. Alicia loved to enjoy life, laugh, feel deeply and passionately.

She had believed she would have a reprieve after Jane’s marriage—that she might be given some peace from the relentless marriage mart.

How wrong that assumption was.

Alicia glanced out the carriage window. The bright lights of the ball ahead flooded the streets. A high shriek of laughter echoed through the night, and the rumble of voices grew louder as the guests mingled and ascended the steps ahead of her.

What would Papa do if I simply commanded the carriage to take me back home?

But she was not so na?ve. Her father’s servants did his bidding, not hers. He was the master of the house, and if she were to attempt to command them, they would simply ignore her.

With bitterness growing in her chest, she rose, forcing herself to climb out before she changed her mind.

As she stepped down into the street, she felt the spiking points of gravel underfoot and heard the snort of the horses, the scent of their sweat rising in the night air.

It was late April, but the weather had turned chilly, and the heavy clouds that had burdened the sky the last week had cleared to reveal a shimmering network of stars above her head.

She shivered.

Who is this ball for? I cannot even recall the man’s name.

She lifted her skirts and began to ascend the stairs. There was no sign of her father.

Evidently, he did not need to wait for her. He knew she would do everything he told her.

What choice do I have?

Standing at the entrance, she looked around her hopelessly. Somewhere in this heaving mass of people, she was supposed to find a husband.

Alicia’s lips twitched as she considered simply walking up to every eligible bachelor and telling them the truth.

“My father is forcing me to marry. Are you available?”

Despite her rage, she could not help a chuckle, and swiftly masked it with a cough as an elderly woman beside her turned to glare at her.

The townhouse was far larger on the inside than it had seemed from the outside. The main entrance hall was dominated by a wide twisting staircase and an enormous chandelier above her head that rocked gently, the candles fluttering in the night air.

Alicia stood in the doorway, looking around her as the scent of rose water drifted through the air, gentlemen and ladies moving past her in an endless dance of color and wealth.

The grand hall was loud and imposing, a lively tune from the players in the corner making it seem a little less intimidating. Despite everything, she wished her father was beside her.

How does he expect me to attract a husband if he leaves me standing alone like a wallflower?

Her gaze followed a portly gentleman who staggered past the doorway, and she let out a sigh of relief as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

Surging forward, she walked into the grand hall just as her friend turned and saw her.

Katie’s eyes widened in excitement, and a bright, happy smile spread across her face as she greeted her, their hands coming together as Alicia gratefully kissed her cheek.

“I am so pleased you are here,” she said fervently.

“Where is your father?” Katie asked, glancing around the room.

“Oh, he has left me to my fate. Already at the card tables, I would wager. He has no interest in the burden of a daughter anymore.”

Katie’s soft green eyes hardened. She had an innocent, heart-shaped face, with freckles scattered across her nose. One would be forgiven for thinking she was far younger than her years, but beneath her youthful appearance was a fiery woman burning with loyalty for her friends.

“Has he?” she muttered. “Well, you are with me now, and I will never abandon you.”

Alicia gave a high-pitched laugh and looped her arm through Katie’s as they moved back a few paces toward the edge of the room so they could better assess their surroundings.

“What are his demands this time?” Katie asked. “I can tell that something is troubling you.”

“It is nothing new,” Alicia said irritably, “just his usual obsession with marrying me off.”

She scanned the sea of faces before her, spotting several gentlemen who had been attentive to her in the previous Season.

But I do not want any of them as a husband.

“Did you have anyone in mind? I can see several of your suitors here tonight; perhaps we could flag one down,” Katie muttered sarcastically.

Alicia scoffed. “None of these men is worth my attention, let alone my love and devotion. I have had three suitors this Season. Cartwright is too old, Logan is a rake, and Lord Pinsent is a child in a man’s body.”

She bit her lip, her thumb picking at her cuticles obsessively. Katie’s gentle hand covered them, stopping the furtive movement.

“You must calm down, Alicia, or you will drive yourself to distraction.”

“He has given me until the end of this ball, Katie!” Alicia shook her head, furrowing her brow. “How am I supposed to find a suitable man under such circumstances?”

“What about Elliot Baxter? You spent quite a bit of time with him at the Marchants’ ball, and you danced with him twice, as I recall.”

“I did. But the man has a very strange relationship with his mother. He refused to introduce me to her due to her nerves, and then when I came upon her at the refreshments table, he almost pushed me into the punch bowl in his haste to separate us.”

Katie chuckled. “Ah, perhaps not, then.”

“I do not know why Papa is very insistent on this. And where is he? Should he not be throwing men at me from every corner until one of them drops to his knees on the spot?”

“Alicia,” Katie said, chuckling, “you are quite impossible.”

But her expression turned grave as their eyes met.

“Perhaps he will not carry through on his threat,” she said with forced optimism.

Alicia watched the crowd, praying Katie might be right, but she knew it was hopeless. She had seen the look on her father’s face many times in the past—uncompromising, determined, and cold.

Her gaze moved to the dance floor, where Lord Pinsent was swaying in the center with a woman in a deep blue gown. Alicia’s eyes followed them enviously, noting the sparkling jewels in the lady’s hair.

I am more interested in the lady’s appearance than the man she is dancing with. Is that not telling?

Lord Pinsent’s blond hair was glinting in the candlelight, a look of deep concentration on his face as he went through the steps. He was an inelegant man, all gangly limbs and pale skin.

“Is it too much to ask for a proper gentleman to show me some attention?” she muttered, a sense of dread creeping into her bones. “I am beginning to think that proper gentlemen are as rare as unicorns.”

Just as the words left her mouth, she felt Katie stiffen beside her, her arm going rigid. Alicia glanced at her friend as a small gasp left her lips.

Following her gaze, Alicia spotted a man on the other side of the room. As her eyes fell on him, the crowd parted, as if by design.

She swallowed convulsively, the hubbub dying down as he was revealed to her.

He commanded the room. It was as if he were the captain of a sea of people all around him, undulating like waves in his wake.

He was incredibly tall and imposing, his chest wide and broad, long legs allowing him to tower above almost everybody else in his vicinity.

The main thing that struck her was the color of his eyes. They were dark, almost black in the flickering light. His long hair fell in waves down to his shoulders, his sharp nose and jaw accentuating the shape of his face.

He reminded her of a hawk, that dark, piercing gaze focused on his prey. And he was looking at her .

Slowly, he began walking toward her.

It was not simply his height that was imposing; Alicia found it difficult to explain the feeling that came over her, as though his very presence consumed her body and soul.

She found it impossible to look away as she watched him approach. Katie was utterly silent beside her as he drew to a stop before them.

The light played across his high cheekbones, and Alicia noticed the golden flecks in his dark irises.

“You will join me for the next set,” he said.

The words were not a question, but a command.

Alicia’s defiance flared, ready to tell him that he was rude and presumptuous to order her in such a way. But instead, she watched her hand move against her will, taking the one he extended to her as if she had no control over her limbs.

As soon as her fingers touched his palm, his hand curled around hers, and she was half-dragged, half-led to the dance floor.

She was too mesmerized by his presence to do anything about it, entirely undone by the pure authority that radiated from him in waves.

I can imagine that with one word from him, this whole room would be brought to silence.

Alicia stumbled slightly as they reached the dance floor. Her companion was uninterested in the other dancers, moving into their space without any qualms, forcing several of them to dance around him.

As she stared up at him, she found no hint of emotion on his face. He was closed off, austere, and aloof, looking over her head at the crowd, appearing almost bored.

Alicia shuddered as, without even glancing at her, his large hand came to rest on the small of her back and the other gripped her fingers, before they began gliding across the floor.

She had not danced with anyone so tall before, and it was liberating to feel the command of her steps taken from her. Many men she had danced with were less sure-footed than this gentleman—he was by far the most confident dancer she had ever known.

“Your father is the Earl of Pembrook, is he not?” he asked after one full turn about the floor. He still did not look at her.

“Y-Yes,” she managed, cursing herself for how uncertain she sounded.

“How old are you?”

Alicia blanched.

The impertinence.

“Old enough to know that it is not polite to ask a lady for her age.”

Finally, he glanced at her, his jaw tightening a little as he moved them in a slow circle. “Answer the question.”

Alicia’s lips thinned as she glared at him. “I am two-and-twenty.”

“And your mother passed away, correct?”

“I beg your pardon, Sir?” she sputtered, wondering whether he would even feel it if she stomped on his foot.

“Your father said you were his only unmarried daughter.”

“M-My father?”

“Are you not familiar with him?” he asked, a smirk crossing his face. “If you are married, you should not have agreed to dance with me.”

Alicia huffed irritably. “ Agreed to it, My Lord? I do not remember you asking, merely commanding me to accompany you.”

“Your Grace.”

“I am sorry?” she asked, alarmed.

“I am the Duke of Radcliffe,” he said, looking down at her, his eyes hard and lifeless as they bored into hers. “You will address me as such.”