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Nev and his friends smiled and made their way to their rooms, which they were shown there by the butler.

Once in his room, Nev removed his wet clothes and handed them to his valet, Giles.

The man looked at his boots with chagrin but said nothing.

Nev felt a twinge of guilt—his escapade would cause more work for poor Giles, who was probably still tired from their long journey.

"I do apologize for the clothes, Giles," he ventured.

"Nothing to apologize for, sir," the man replied—his tone clearly relating the necessity for such an apology.

Nev shook his head. His valet was a long-suffering worker who dealt with Nev's antics with superb patience. Even now, he laid out a new set of clothes for Nev, all pristinely pressed and brushed.

Nev decided to rest a bit before seeking out the rest of the party in the drawing room, and he lay down on the plush bed.

Giles placed the clothes on a nearby chair and left the room, leaving Nev to ponder the next few days.

He had no plans for the visit, apart from spending as much time as possible with his friends.

They were all old companions from their days in Harrow, but life had come between them—first Hartfield's long trip to Madras and his subsequent surprise marriage, then their friend John's wedding and departure to the Americas.

Their small gang of rakes was slowly settling down and finding their place in the world.

What was his place? Nev wondered. He loved women, wine, and good company—and the occasional scandalous book. He mainly spent his time traveling the country and frequenting London's more dubious establishments. All that was well and fine, but one eventually grew tired of such a life.

He had long ago given up on the idea of love—no matter how many times he tried to meet a like-minded woman, he ended up disappointed.

Most of the young ladies of the ton were accomplished in some way, yet a conversation with them was a dull affair.

And he wasn't exactly considered a great catch by the matchmaking mamas, being the third son of a less-than-wealthy baron.

He was handsome enough, that he knew—he had golden hair, bright green eyes, a fit body and a tall frame. But that alone wasn’t enough to secure the kind of marriage he would wish for.

He wanted what Hartfield had—a lovely, brilliant wife who matched him in intellect and temperament—a true companion with whom he could share his days.

But such a woman was not to be found, apparently. So, until he learned otherwise, Nev would continue to take solace in his hedonistic ways.

After spending several hours resting and reading in his room, Nev felt it was safe to venture to the drawing room. He braced himself—while his friends were great fun, house parties could be unpredictable in their offered company.

As he approached the drawing room, Nev straightened his cravat and cleared his throat. He hoped—prayed, even—that he wouldn’t be forced into a boring conversation with some matron. Let his friends be there already, he thought.

When he entered, Lady Hartfield greeted him with a smile and offered her hand.

"Drent, how lovely of you to join us! Please, allow me to introduce the party to you."

What followed was a recitation of names and titles Nev vaguely recognized, accompanied by a flurry of bows and curtsies. But his attention snapped back when his eyes landed on a young lady standing straight and proud.

"And now, allow me to introduce Lady Hutton and her daughter, Miss Hutton."

That name he definitely recognized. Young Miss Hutton was hailed by most of the ton to be the fairest lady of the season—and Nev had to agree. She was a vision—flaxen blond hair framed the most startlingly blue eyes he had ever seen, paired with a sharp chin and a pointed nose.

Miss Hutton was beautiful, but what truly caught his attention were those eyes. They widened as they locked gazes, as if in recognition, and a slight blush covered her smooth cheeks. Nev felt his mouth stretch into an involuntary smile—and to his astonishment, Miss Hutton smiled back.

His heart beat faster at that smile. It lit up her entire face, and reached her eyes—which sparkled with intelligence and mirth.

For a moment, Nev was literally speechless. But then he shook himself—why was he ogling the lady like a dolt? He found his voice again and politely replied, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The mother, herself a handsome woman, barely looked at him as she replied coolly, "Indeed."

Ah. So, she knew his lineage—and was also averse to him pursuing her daughter. Nev had no such plans, so why did it still rankle?

Unable to contain himself, Nev turned back to Miss Hutton.

"How are you enjoying your stay so far, Miss Hutton?"

She smiled at him again, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I'm enjoying myself very much, thank you. I find the country offers all sorts of distractions—often of the most unexpected kind."

There was humor in her eyes, and Nev wondered what she meant. But before he could ask her, she continued, "And what about you, sir? Do you enjoy the country as well?"

Nev nodded and replied, "I do. Though not many estates compare to Ainsley Manor in grandeur and beauty. I love coming here more than anywhere else."

"Yes, and it has such a lovely lake attached to it," Miss Hutton commented, her eyes glinting with mirth.

"Indeed," he responded, confounded. Why did he feel as if he was missing some essential part of the conversation?

Unfortunately, their conversation was cut short by the arrival of George, who was then also introduced to all the room's occupants.

Even so, Nev couldn’t keep his eyes off Miss Hutton. She was elegant, beautiful, and cheerful. But more importantly, she seemed to possess wit—and that made her nigh irresistible.

And that was bloody inconvenient.