As soon as the carriage pulled up to the front portico, I leaped out and raced to my third-floor bedroom. Stripping off the chartreuse bridesmaid gown, I kicked it across the room and then stomped on it. Beneath my feet, the fabric tore. Furious, I continued to pound my shoes into the dreadful garment until it shredded. When I completed my rage, I turned to find Miss Young glaring at me.

"I don't care," I shouted, my face scarlet with fury. "I never want to see that ugly dress again as long as I live."

Storming toward my wardrobe, I pulled out an azure-colored ballgown and held it against my body. Spreading it out on the bed, I asked Miss Young to tighten my corset and donned my hoop skirts. The off-the-shoulder dress displayed my small breasts and tiny waist, and the full skirt billowed to my ankles. I twirled in front of the cheval glass.

"Much better!" I exclaimed, fluffing the lace at the neckline. The governess continued to stare at me, speechless.

"Here you are," Grayson stated, leaning in the door frame. "I wondered why you ran off." He whistled through his teeth as his eyes took in my costume change. "I hadn't realized you'd grown up so quickly." He extended his arm, and I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

Sedately, we entered the ballroom and paused momentarily in the doorway. All eyes turned in our direction as we made a grand entry. I swooped past Joel and Charlotte with all the confidence I could muster. Lottie's eyes caught mine and narrowed suspiciously. Smiling, I twinkled my fingers at her and sailed onto the dance floor in my middle brother's arms.

"May I cut in?" a deep, sonorous voice asked as a waltz began.

Grayson immediately stepped aside, and I found myself in the arms of a handsome stranger. His hand on the small of my back felt instantly comfortable. I looked into his soft hazel eyes and smiled demurely. He smiled in return, his pale lips turning up at the corners charmingly. Two rows of gold buttons glittered against the red of his army uniform.

"You're a lieutenant, I gather," I remarked as we swooped around the ballroom floor.

"Indeed I am," the tall, handsome man responded. "Allow me to introduce myself. Lieutenant Meriweather Spencer Wilkes-Porter at your service." He stepped back momentarily and bowed deeply. "Spence to my friends."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," I muttered graciously. We continued to dance, closely entwined in each other arms until the waltz ended.

"May I escort you into the supper room?" my new companion inquired, offering his elbow.

"If you please." I placed my gloved hand on his arm.

Charlotte glared at us as we passed through the open French doors into the next room. Three long white-clothed tables stretched across the far wall, containing chafing dishes full of delectable offerings. Behind each table, several servants stood at attention, waiting to serve morsels to each guest. Spence led me to a small round table for two and entered the buffet line. Before he could return, my new sister-in-law plopped onto the seat across from me.

"What happened to your bridesmaid dress?" Lottie hissed, leaning ominously toward me.

"It met with an unfortunate accident," I responded coolly. "I had to change my dress to make myself presentable."

"No one else met with an unfortunate accident," she continued, her heavily made-up face leering at me. "My sisters are still wearing their dresses."

Together, we shifted our eyes toward Bertha and Despina. They stood, partnerless, with their backs against the supper room wall. No one approached them or asked them to dance.

"Ah yes, the wallflowers," I muttered cynically. "Perhaps the dress has something to do with their lack of partners. However, I do digress. Those two would remain wallflowers regardless of their attire. Ah, here is Spence, returned with our supper. If you will excuse us, Lottie, we were just about to dine."

"Hmmph," Charlotte exclaimed, snorting through her nose. Nevertheless, she rose and joined Joel in the supper line. After they received their meals, they sat at a table adjacent to ours.

My new sister-in-law riveted me with narrowed eyes as I began to eat. I ogled her uncomfortably, but she held my gaze. I picked at my food but barely ate it.

"Would you care to stroll in the gardens," Spence finally asked, noting my discomfort.

"Yes," I responded with alacrity.

My companion rose and pulled out my chair. Side-by-side, we exited onto the patio and joined the couples who promenaded the garden paths. When we reached the summerhouse, I invited Spencer inside.

"Tis lovely tonight," the Lieutenant murmured, standing close beside me. I nestled into his arm and gazed into the starry night.

"Yes," I sighed, breathing in the cool night air. I turned my attention to my companion and stated, "I don't recall seeing you in church. Are you a friend of Joel's?"

"No, I don't know Joel," Spencer replied shortly. "I'm Jonathan's cousin." When I stared at him quizzically, he clarified, "Jonathan Clarence Twickenham III, otherwise known as Wickie."

"Oh, I see, Wickie. He's Joel's friend," I answered, hoisting myself onto the summerhouse's railing. "They met up at Oxford."

"Yes, and I will say, Jon lost no time leading Joel astray." Spencer laughed shortly.

"And why is that so funny?" I leaped down and poised with my hands on my hips.

"Wickie's an expert on hooking up with barmaids." My companion's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Barmaids, huh?" I questioned, aghast. "You mean Charlotte Plumb, for instance."

"Exactly."

"Oh," I turned away and bowed my head. Spence placed his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I dropped my head onto his shoulder.

"I'll admit, it's not quite as funny as it seems," the Lieutenant whispered solemnly. "Least of all when it happens in your own family. I apologize."

"Yes, and so you should," I muttered, drawing in my breath. "That woman is horrid. She's having Joel's baby, and he's married to her. Shame on Wickie."

"Shame on Joel, I should say," Spencer added, kissing the top of my head. "He allowed Wickie to lead him into his mess."

"My brother always was insipid," I remarked, breaking away and rushing down the summerhouse steps. Spencer's hand on my arm stopped me.

I turned to face him abruptly and practically fell into his arms. He tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me to him. His lips met mine. Momentarily, I resisted him. Pushing against his shoulders, I grappled for release. Suddenly, my passion arose, and I returned his kiss with ardor.

"I haven't told you how beautiful you are," the Lieutenant murmured into my ear. "The azure in your dress brings out the blue in your eyes. I could gaze into them forever."

"Hmmm," I responded, tongue-tied. I longed to tell Spence how handsome he was—how I suddenly wanted time to halt and leave us alone in the summerhouse forever. My youth and inexperience left me lacking the words my mind grappled to find.

"Papa is looking for you, Priscilla," Joel cut in, breaking the magical spell. "He thinks it's time for you and Grayson to retire from the festivities."

"Ah, but the night is still young," Spencer remarked firmly. "Your sister is quite entertaining. I thought we would remain outdoors for a while longer."

My brother blanched, his face growing as pale as the overhanging moon. He stepped backward, stumbled on the summerhouse step, and bowed at the waist. Lottie stood a pace or two behind him, her mouth turning into a giant 'O.'

"As you wish," my brother stated, turning abruptly and dragging his new wife away.

Spence and I remained in the summerhouse until the servants began extinguishing the Chinese lanterns. We clung to each other furtively until we finally had to say goodnight. I promised to see him again soon before running toward the house. His eyes followed me until I reached the patio and disappeared inside.

Grayson entered my room while I brushed the chignon from my hair. Taking the brush from my hands, he combed it through my hair with long strokes.

"Papa thought you spent too much time in the summerhouse, Prissy," Gray finally stated. "He wanted you inside with the guests, but he daren't interfere—all things considered."

"All things considered, why?" I asked dreamily. My thoughts remained full of my evening with Spence.

"Don't you know who you spent the entire night with?" my brother whispered, his voice reverent.

"Lieutenant Spencer Wilkes-Porter," I answered, shrugging my bare shoulders primly. "What's wrong with that?"

"Viscount Meriweather Wilkes-Porter, little sister," Grayson squealed, his voice rising another octave. "Second son of the Earl of Barnchester to utilize the correct form of address. Papa couldn't interfere because he outranks us. Lottie insisted he do something about your outrageous behavior, but he didn't dare."

"Lottie, huh?" I exclaimed, my dander up. "It's clearly none of her business. I'm going to bed, Grayson, and I'm going to dream of dancing in the Viscount's tender arms. You can tell Lottie that when you see her."

I pushed my brother from my room and closed the door. For a moment, I leaned against it, and then I plummeted onto the bed. Flopping onto my back, I hugged myself tightly. Imagine! Viscount Meriweather Wilkes-Porter—son of the Earl of Barnchester—spending a delightful evening from Priscilla Everstow. I could barely contain myself.