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CHAPTER ONE

The carriage pulled into the longest drive Poppy Stanton had ever seen. The house hadn’t yet come into view and Poppy desperately wished it would as she was weary from the hours long carriage ride. Her youngest sister Clover’s incessant chatter didn’t help matters.

Maybe I could jump out and run for the hills.

Poppy quickly dismissed the ridiculous notion as she had a very important task ahead of her—chaperone Clover at the house party of the summer.

It was quite a compliment to have received an invitation as her mother repeatedly reminded her.

Her sister would have her pick of eligible gentleman and hopefully end the summer with an engagement.

Something Poppy would never experience. At nearly thirty years old, she was so far on the shelf that she’d gathered dust. Her dance card had never been overflowing with names, even in her first season. And now she was barely spared a glance as she graced the perimeter of the ballroom.

Grateful another dreaded season had come to an end and she was free to spend her time as she pleased, Poppy had outlined plans for the books she’d read and the plants she’d tend in her beloved garden.

Instead she’d found herself in a stuffy carriage on the way to a fate worse than Mrs. Aldridge’s peacock ball, which yes did involve live birds—Poppy Stanton found herself a houseguest for a fortnight at the home of the most notorious rake in all of London.

Strictly speaking, it was the home of the eldest brother of the rake in question, but that was little comfort. As the stately home came into view, Poppy held her breath and sent up a silent prayer that Alexander Ambrose was not in residence.

Not that he would pay her any notice. On the rare occasion they crossed paths in London’s social scene, his gaze flitted past as if she was a mere apparition.

Then there was the time she overheard him and his friends gossiping about eligible ladies—his friend mentioned her name and she’d frozen behind the column she’d been lurking behind to avoid her mother.

She’d braced for a cutting remark as she knew what her reality was—spinster oldest sister, not as pretty as her youngest sister or as witty as her middle sister.

Yet Mr. Ambrose didn’t make the usual comparisons.

Instead, he simply said “She’s too intelligent to make a good wife. ”

Equal parts insulting and complimentary, Poppy hadn’t known what to make of Mr. Ambrose.

She was intelligent and it did turn off potential suitors.

She was also too serious, a terrible dancer, and lacking in musical ability.

An all around failure on the marriage mart.

Of which she wasn’t disappointed. Marriage seemed much less appealing than caring for her aging parents while spending her free time reading.

Clover interrupted her musings with a shriek of joy. “We’re here! I cannot wait to meet everyone. Who do you suppose has been invited?”

Poppy directed an admonishing look her way. “Shh. It is most unladylike to squeal like a barnyard pig. You are a lady, please remember.”

Clover rolled her eyes and slumped dramatically against the cushions. “Please don’t be so Poppy-like. We are free of Mother for the first time ever and I want to have fun.”

Poppy sucked in a breath and willed herself to be patient. What would Mother say? “Clover, it is my responsibility to ensure you maintain the composure befitting of a woman of your station. There is much fun to be had while also remembering our manners.”

Clover opened her mouth to argue, but Poppy was saved by the footman who swung open the carriage door and extended a hand.

Poppy accepted the assistance to step down and pulled herself to her full height in an effort to stretch her weary limbs.

Clover leapt down after her, barely leaning on the offered arm.

She was less subtle in her stretch and Poppy shifted to elbow her in warning.

The ornate wooden front door opened to reveal the new Mrs. Eleanor Ambrose who beamed at her guests. “Hello! Miss Stanton and Miss Clover Stanton. I’m delighted you will be spending the fortnight with us!”

A man stepped out behind her, placing a protective hand at her waist. Eleanor turned her smile towards him. “August, you remember the Misses Stanton.”

Mr. Ambrose nodded politely in their direction. “Good day and welcome to Ambrose estate.”

Eleanor stood aside and motioned them towards the house. “There are several other guests already arrived. Our staff will show you your rooms and then we will gather in the garden for an informal tea.”

Clover bounced on the balls of her feet. “Who else is in attendance? I am eager to make their acquaintance.”

Eleanor named several young women and men that Poppy was familiar with from London parties and Clover beamed at the news. As an afterthought, Eleanor added “Unfortunately my dear brother-in-law is unable to attend. He has business in London.”

Perhaps her prayer had worked. Poppy began to relax for the first time since their mother had entrusted her with this errand.

Two weeks in the quiet countryside with pleasant company may be just what Poppy needed.

The estate looked vast and beautiful. Surely she could slip away to tour the grounds and foliage.

Offering Clover her first genuine smile in weeks, Poppy linked their arms and ascended the steps to the house.

Just as they reached the threshold, a wild clattering of hoofs sounded in the drive.

Their group turned to learn the identity of the rider who barreled up the road as if running from hell itself.

The mount was a sleek black specimen that even Poppy could discern was expensive. The rider was also dressed in all black from boots to coat and hat pulled low down on his head. The man and beast rode together fluidly, as if one and the same being. Poppy struggled to tear her eyes away.

Not sure if she should be alarmed at the stranger, she glanced at her hosts, both of whom had wide grins on their faces. The mysterious rider pulled to a stop directly in front of them, casting a cloud of dust behind him.

His eyes were unreadable under the brim of his hat, but his mouth twisted into a deep frown as he took in the scene. Whoever this was, he clearly found the group lacking.

Mr. Ambrose broke from their huddle to greet the rider. “I dare say it’s my long lost brother!”

Brother? The mystery rider was none other than August Ambrose. Renowned rake and irritating man.

August dismounted as effortlessly as he rode. He tipped his hat in their direction before embracing Mr. Ambrose in a hearty hug. He then bowed deeply towards the ladies.

Eleanor moved to greet him with a hug also. “August, you scoundrel! I did not expect you for weeks yet!”

“My apologies but my business in London wrapped up much more quickly than anticipated. I hope I’m not imposing by hastening my visit.”

“No imposition at all. In fact, your arrival is a great blessing. I am hosting a house party and the numbers are uneven. You know what a stress that causes me. Now that you are here, we are an even number.”

Dread pooled in Poppy’s stomach at Eleanor’s announcement. If they’d been an uneven number and Eleanor had named an even number of people, then that left her as the odd person out. Which meant Eleanor intended to place her in the company of August.

If he was concerned, he didn’t let on as his face remained impassive. “I’m at your service, dear sister.”

Poppy’s suspicions were confirmed when Eleanor announced. “Much obliged, dear brother. Poppy will be in good company with you to escort her. In fact, tea will commence in an hour.”

Poppy thought she saw the faint hint of a frown before the rakish smile took over his handsome features. “Miss Poppy Stanton, may I escort you to tea in an hour’s time?”

She gritted her teeth as she replied “Surely Mr. Ambrose, I’d love nothing more.”

Poppy’s dreams of an uneventful fortnight in the country were dashed by the arrival of the most annoying rake in all of Britain.