Page 1 of Not a Chance in Hell (The Chances #6)

March 5, 1840

“T hat’s it!” Lilianna threw up her hands and suppressed a smile. “I’m not going!”

Various groans rang out in the large hall at her pronouncement—which she’d known would happen. But still. It was so much more amusing to toy with them.

“Lil, you promised—”

“I’m never going to get my chance to go to a ball and dance with a—!”

“I will make her. If we all try together, we can force her into the carriage. Take an arm—”

Expertly sidestepping her siblings’ attempts to force her toward the door, Lilianna allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips.

Well, really . They were all so obsessed with her attending these balls. She knew why, of course, but there was no need for them to be so blatant about it.

A middle-aged genteel woman pushed forward carrying a giant, white feather in the air above her head like a dagger she was about to bring down on an unsuspecting person. She seemed unsurprised by the chaos unfolding around her. “Out of the w-way, I’m t-trying to—”

“Leave off, it’s Mama,” said Samuel, pulling Benjamin back.

Lilianna stuck her tongue out at her two brothers, which only encouraged Benjamin to launch forward and Samuel to steady his grip.

“Come on. Mama will get her out of the door,” said the eldest of her brothers with a shake of his head and a smirk rather like Lilianna’s own. “If anyone can, it’s her.”

He wasn’t wrong, though Lilianna did not particularly wish to admit it. Florence Chance, Marchioness of Aylesbury, was one of the gentlest, kindest, and most compassionate people Lilianna had ever met. And Lady Aylesbury was Lilianna’s mother. Most people would envy the daughter of such a lady.

And Lilianna did love her, obviously. But still, she was so… so… so placid.

Nothing like her eldest daughter at all.

“I don’t want another feather, Mama,” Lilianna said, dodging her mother’s fussing attempts to continue her adornment.

“B-But everyone w-will…”

Their mother halted, her tongue tying itself in knots as it so often did, and her four children fell silent.

Lilianna watched, her affection for her mother always strongest when she was struggling to articulate her words. Fifty years of age, and she still found it astonishing that her aunts and other ladies’ mothers spoke as clear as a bell.

Yet she wouldn’t change Florence Chance for all the tea in China.

Her mother fixed her with a stern look, which was a surprise in and of itself. “Y-You must be perfect. You m-must always be p-perfect! Everyone w-will be looking their b-best. To catch a—”

“Husband,” chorused both Lilianna’s brothers and her sister, Frank.

Perfect . Yes, Lilianna was well aware what her family expected of her. Perfection. Well, she could be perfect.

Frank rolled her eyes, sticking her hands in the pockets of her trousers—trousers her father had only yesterday forbidden her to wear. “Honestly, Mama, we know! We know you want Lil to marry, we know how important it is that her marriage is to the right sort of man—”

“ Any man would be the right sort, at this point,” muttered Samuel.

Lilianna whacked him on the arm unceremoniously.

“Ouch! Damn, Lil, that hurt!”

Their mother’s face drained of color. “D-Don’t swear in front of—”

“Frank knows far better curses than I do, don’t you, Frank?” Samuel grinned.

Lilianna sighed as she accepted the feather from her mother and listened to her sister squabbling with their brothers. Again. One would hardly know Frank—or Francesca, to those who wished to die a terrible death—was nineteen.

Really!

“It’s evidently a good thing you’re not coming with me, if you can’t learn to behave like a lady,” Lilianna said serenely, pulling on her pelisse.

Frank snorted. “What, you mean like you?” She stuck her tongue out, waggling it this time in a clear reference to Lilianna’s rudeness.

Lilianna rolled her eyes. “I am the eldest daughter. I can do no wrong.”

Which wasn’t entirely true. In fact, the whole reason the family was so worked up tonight was because of her, was it not? Her inability—no, that wasn’t quite the right word… Her insistence that she would not be marrying any of the hoi polloi who asked her.

Though it wasn’t as though she had been inundated with offers. Just five.

Then again, one of the Miss Quintrells was the second-most popular lady and she had only received three. So perhaps Lilianna should have been happy with her handful.

“—b-be late, and then w-what will p-people—”

“I could not care less what people say, Mama,” said Lilianna grandly, pulling on her gloves, perhaps more confidently than she felt.

You must be perfect.

Benjamin, with his dark hair and dark eyes already a great temptation for the ladies of Society, snorted. “Well, you should! It’s our Chance name that you’re ruining—”

“‘ Ruining ’? By having standards?” Lilianna scoffed, adjusting her diamond necklace and glancing at herself in the looking glass hanging by the door.

It showed a tall, young lady with a straight, aquiline nose and gray eyes, which her mother had once said changed with the weather. Her figure was passably good, her complexion fair, and she knew how to dress for both. A compassionate modiste had assisted in styling her in gowns that accentuated rather than hid her curves, and in this light-gray silk gown, which was just a few inches too long for her—

“Lord Zouch is a perfectly good match,” said Samuel.

“Lord Zouch is a bore, and a drunk, and he has a cousin who is far more charming,” Lilianna said serenely, speaking over her brother without turning to look. “I’d sooner marry the younger than the elder.”

“Then why don’t you consider his br—”

“I’d rather marry neither of them. I keep telling you, Samuel, I see no need to merely marry because I can,” Lilianna said sternly, turning to glare—to glare at them all. It was time they all heard this, though it was hardly the first time she was saying it. “I am a Chance. I have standards, expectations—”

Frank rolled her eyes. “We’re all Chances.”

Lilianna glared at her younger sister. “Then why don’t you go and get married?”

“You know your sister cannot attend many Society functions until you yourself are married,” said a new voice to the medley, calm and quiet and yet with a confidence that no one else in the family had. “You know that, Lil. Other families may feel otherwise, but that is one rule the Chances do not ignore.”

She sighed as her father entered the hall.

Well, excellent. Now I am truly outnumbered.

Her father was a tall man with hair graying in parts, and a look of mischievousness that some people took for carelessness. They had the same fine fingers and the same ear for music, the same carefree spirit. But there was no one who cared for his family more than John Chance, Marquess of Aylesbury. And that meant marrying off his daughters.

“I don’t suppose you are accompanying me this evening?” Lilianna said smoothly.

He wasn’t. She could tell by the utter lack of care he and his valet had given to his attire. No Chance would consider attending one of Lady Romeril’s balls with that cravat.

Her father smiled. “No, that is your mother’s punishment this time.”

Lilianna opened her mouth in mock outrage. “How dare you? I assure you, being in my company is a delight!”

“I see,” said the Marquess of Aylesbury with a grin. “And how, exactly, have you delighted your siblings so far this evening?”

She looked around. Frank was looking irritable and mulish, her arms crossed. Samuel was still rubbing his arm where she had whacked him—with cause. But probably harder than she ought. Benjamin was looking around at them, but he seemed most concerned about their mother, who had pursued lips and was standing by the door, her fingers on the handle.

Lilianna sighed. “I just don’t want a fuss, that’s all.”

Which was only half the truth. Being made a fuss of, that was wonderful. Being fussed over , that was her personal vexation.

And ever since she had reached her twenty-first birthday, there had been far more fussing about her prospects than delightedly fussing over her company.

A prickle of discomfort curled around her. And she wasn’t that old. Not really.

“Cousin Maude is far older than I,” she said quietly. “And she is unwed.”

Her mother and father exchanged a look. It was a look that said, I told you that she would bring this up. The answering reply was something along the lines of, I didn’t say she wouldn’t. I said we didn’t want to have to argue about it.

That was the lot of an eldest daughter. Eventually, Lilianna would be expected to go off and get married to some poor idiot who’d had the good sense to ask her, and then she would go off and be bored in his house instead of in her own, providing him with one baby after another at his request.

Was that all there was? Was that truly all life could offer?

“Cousin M-M-Maude is different,” her mother said finally. “She doesn’t have any sisters.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Frank said darkly. “I’m not allowed my own toolbox, so what does a ball matter to me?”

She was ignored.

“That is just the way Society is,” their father said with a heavy sigh. “I cannot pretend to understand it, Lil.”

“Well then, why not—”

He held up a hand. “But that is the way it is, and there’s no arguing with me about it. I can’t change it,” he said fairly. Far too fairly, in Lilianna’s opinion. “I never had sisters, so I cannot understand the whole thing.”

“So why not let me—”

“I am telling you to go to that ball and make your mother proud,” John Chance said quietly. “Is it really that difficult?”

Lilianna pursed her lips. No, not difficult . Not difficult, per se. She was outstanding in balls—dancing beautifully, conversing lightly, never letting any particular gentleman believe that he had monopolized her, but making every conversational and dance partner feel special.

It wasn’t difficult. Just dull.

“No, Papa,” she said quietly.

For the briefest of moments, her father placed a hand on her shoulder and grinned. “I know you can do this.”

But do I want to? Lilianna wanted to cry. Can you not all see just how repetitive this all is? London, Bath, the country, London, Bath, the country—round and round we go, seeing the same people, eating the same food. Do you not all want something… something else?

“Now, I want you to promise me one thing,” said her father sternly.

Lilianna stiffened as she saw her siblings stare over their father’s shoulder. Promise? Promises were something that the Chances—at least, this branch of the family—took incredibly seriously. A promise was never requested without the expectation that it would, no matter what, be fulfilled.

“Promise?” she repeated warily.

Her father winked. “Don’t get engaged the moment you enter the ball.”

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it as Frank said, “Why on earth not? If she can finally find a man she likes…”

“Yes, well, that is rather the problem, isn’t it?” quipped Samuel with a laugh. “First it was Lord Zouch—”

Benjamin cut him off. “She saw him off quickly enough.”

Lilianna glared, but plainly, she was out of practice because her brothers continued.

“And then Lord Hastings,” said Samuel.

“Then that earl, what was his name?” pondered Benjamin.

“I heard that Mr. Lennox had considered offering but was scared off.”

“Then Lord Zouch again , poor fellow.”

“There’s one that we’re missing, though,” her eldest brother, Samuel, said pensively. “Who was it again? Began with a P…”

This time, it was her parents who chorused, “The Right Honorable Henry Ponsonby-Jentham!”

“Yes, that was it.” Samuel grinned. “And you didn’t fancy becoming the Right Honorable Lady Lilianna Ponsonby-Jentham?”

Lilianna grimaced. “That’s not how that works.”

“Our family is hardly conventional in that manner. You, too, could be a right honorable.”

“I’ll give you a right honorable in a—”

“And th-that means it’s t-time to go,” interrupted their mother with a smile.

Ever the peacemaker , Lilianna thought with a guilty twinge. And their mother so often had to be, at the moment.

The marquess cleared his throat. “Now, do I have your promise, Lil?”

For a moment, she hardly remembered what on earth her father was talking about. Then she laughed. “What, to not get engaged the moment I enter the ball? I think I can safely say, Papa, that I won’t be getting engaged tonight at all.”

All three of her siblings groaned.

“Will we ever be rid of her?” Samuel asked with a dramatic sigh.

It really was unfair of them all to put this pressure on her. Besides, two could play at that game. “Why doesn’t Samuel have to marry?”

“Now, then, no delaying tactics,” her brother said hastily with reddening cheeks as he stepped forward to open the door. “Out you go.”

“Yes, I really do think, as Papa’s heir—”

“Out, out, out!” Samuel said loudly.

“See if you can k-keep the others out of t-trouble for one evening,” said Florence Chance sedately, kissing their father on the cheek.

Lilianna had to look away—the expression of devotion between her parents was so excruciating—so she heard instead of saw her father’s response.

“Just so long as you know I’ll be waiting for you when you get back…”

Stepping into the balmy night and almost tripping over her long hem—she really must ask Clarke to take it in—Lilianna attempted to scrub the recollection of what her father had said from her mind. Well, really! It was probably a good sign that her parents were still… well… affectionate. But that didn’t mean that she wanted to hear the evidence!

The carriage was waiting, the horses stamping in the cold, evening air. A footman opened the door for her and she pulled a blanket over her knees as she settled on the seat.

Her mother joined her within a moment, cheeks pink and clearly delighted by her husband’s affection.

Lilianna looked away. Dear Lord.

“You know, m-marriage is not s-so terrible.”

That caught Lilianna’s attention. It was rare that her mother ever attempted to truly persuade her eldest daughter to wed, for which Lilianna was grateful. So what had changed? Why was the whole family so determined to marry her off?

“I did not say marriage was terrible,” Lilianna said quietly as the carriage launched forward and the sound of hooves echoed in the night air. “When it works, when the two people truly care for each other… I mean, look at you and Papa.”

Her mother glowed with happiness, even in the gloom of the carriage. “M-Marrying for love—”

“I know, I know, it’s incredibly rare.” Lilianna huffed, turning from her mother to look out of the window. Nothing could be seen, the sun having set hours ago. “It’s just… Well. All the Chances have married for love so far.”

Which was terribly unusual, she knew. There simply weren’t that many love matches made every Season, yet her father, and all three of her father’s brothers—and now her cousin Thomas—had all wed the brides of their dreams. Nothing had halted their love stories, and that was all very well… but Lilianna had attended four Seasons now. Countless balls, dances, dinners, afternoon teas, picnics, rides, hunts. The sheer amount of croquet she had played meant she was probably qualified to teach the wretched pastime.

And yet not a single gentleman who had crossed her path had been worthy.

“Lady Romeril said—”

Lilianna groaned. “Lady Romeril is part of the past, Mama! No one truly cares what she thinks.”

Which wasn’t completely true. Lady Romeril had been a… a doyenne of Society for as long as Lilianna could remember. She’d overheard her aunts once discussing with her mother whether or not Lady Romeril would continue to host her annual ball, and one of them had said that Lady Romeril had been hosting the ball for over forty years, and only death would end it. Perhaps not even then.

“Besides, Lady Romeril always has the most terrible guest list,” she pointed out to her mother as the carriage lurched to one side, taking a corner at a high speed. “She always chooses the people she thinks will create the most scandal—”

“Th-That’s not entirely… Well…”

“—and she tries to get people into… into awkward situations.” Lilianna swallowed. “Not that she has ever maneuvered me into such a thing, naturally.”

No one ever was going to find out about that. The audacity of Mr. Lister attempting to corner her in that drawing room, the very idea that she would even think of him as a potential suitor!

The man’s black eye had caused a great amount of comment the next day, apparently. Lilianna had refrained from noting it.

“You are so b-beautiful, and—”

Lilianna snorted. “You have to say that. You’re my mother.”

“Lil.”

Sighing heavily, Lilianna turned to her mother, who was beaming.

“I m-may have to say it,” said Florence with a mischievous grin, rarely seen on the shy woman’s face, “but I don’t have to th-think it. And I do. Your b-beauty is more than skin deep. You are ch-charming.”

Charming . Yes, that was what the Society pages had described her as when she had come out as a debutante. Charming.

It was just another word for unusual , and Lilianna knew it.

So, she had opinions. So, those opinions were rather lofty. She thought a lot of herself, her family, their position in the world—and why not? They were the Chances!

“No one wants a charming wife, Mama,” Lilianna said softly.

Her mother frowned. “Of course they do.”

“Anyone who has proposed to me so far has only done so because they want to marry into the Chance family—and do not attempt to tell me that it’s not true,” she said firmly. “Because it is.”

The carriage rattled along the Bath streets, lights flashing past them now. When was it that the gas lamps had been put in on this part of town? Lilianna could hardly remember, but they had made a great difference to the way the place looked at night.

“F-Family name is, alas, s-still important…”

“Not for most people. Most people have no respect,” Lilianna said sternly, as though it had been her mother who had been outrageously rude. “They treat me sometimes like I’m a nobody! The modern world has a great deal to offer us young ladies, but still—the cheek!”

She’d been refused a table at Don Saltero’s Chelsea Coffee House only yesterday. Refused! A Chance! And she had given her name, making sure to enunciate it clearly, and the man had just looked blank and repeated the fact that no tables were available.

“I c-cannot pretend to understand this m-modern world of yours,” said her mother quietly.

Lilianna sighed. “Before we know it, ladies will be gallivanting about without chaperones.”

She still could not decide if she liked the idea or not. It was a change to the rules, the rules she had studied so hard and perfected over the years. It was outrageous that others could simply walk over them and pretend they did not matter.

But on the other hand, being able to attend gatherings without her mother or father or Clarke present, the freedom to walk wherever she wanted, visit any place she liked…

“I s-suppose I would then n-not have to venture out at n-night to k-keep you company.”

And with that phrase, all the anger and bitterness in Lilianna drained away.

There was nothing Florence Chance hated more than venturing out in public, Lilianna knew—all her children did. She was a true wallflower, one who grew best at home.

And she was coming out here to help Lilianna find a husband. Her selfishness melted and only guilt was left behind.

“I know you don’t want to be here, Mama.”

“I d-didn’t say—”

“And I will try to uphold the Chance name,” Lilianna continued, feeling in a way as though she were promising something. “I will do my best to shine at this ball, and though I can’t promise to allow Lady Romeril to maneuver me into a scandalous position—”

“Heaven f-forbid!”

“—I will…” Lilianna closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and opened them again to see her mother suppressing a smile. “I will attempt to give every gentleman I encounter a fair opportunity to… impress me.”

For want of a better word.

The carriage was slowing, drawing to a halt outside a building from which music and chatter emanated.

Her mother nodded. “G-Good. Let’s go in, sh-shall we?”

Just be perfect.

Lilianna had no time to say anything else before the door nearest her was opened. Her mother frowned as she tugged on the skirt of her dress. One of the adornments on the silky material, a pearl broach with gold spikes, had caught between the carriage’s cushions. “G-Go on,” she said. “I’ll be j-just a moment.”

Stepping forward, Lilianna intended to descend in a rush of silks and feathers, emerging like a princess onto a royal stage, dazzling those who were also arriving at Lady Romeril’s ball at the same time and amazing them with her elegance.

She didn’t. The hem of her skirt got caught on the step, gravity suddenly lurching forward. The world was spinning and Lilianna was falling, falling… She was going to fall face-first on the pavement and disgrace the name of—

Strong hands. A steadiness, a balance in the world. Heat, and pressure around her.

Lilianna swallowed. She was horizontal, parallel to the ground, caught in the arms of—

A gentleman smiled down. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen: almost overpowering in his good looks, a roguish grin creasing the corners of his mouth and his eyes dancing dangerously.

“Well,” the gentleman said, his voice honey and spices. “I suppose we will just have to get married, then.”