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“Greater things have been done. All seven sons? Our greatest achievement yet, wouldn’t you agree?”

A smile split open on Hope’s face. “Of course, Mother. No greater feat has ever been accomplished. All seven sons matched in one summer. We do make quite the pair.”

“That’s right. And now it’s your turn to find love. Don’t shake your head at me, young lady. You are a diamond of the first water, and it’s finally your turn.”

Hope scoffed. “It’s not about beauty, Mother. There are many women in the beau monde more fetching than me.” She recalled her debut season and all the attention she had received from various suitors. Not one could tell her what her favorite color was (blue), what her favorite activity was (hosting guests), or what she longed for (to be treasured). The most they could regurgitate would be the color of her hair, and perhaps the measurements concerning her breasts. (She had seen them staring on too many occasions not to notice.)

The worst was when she found out about a gentleman (so called only if one wanted to strictly adhere to labels) who had put a wager in the books that he would win her as a wife. Not even win her heart. Had that been the bet, there may have been something to discuss. But no, just win her. As if she were some kind of object with no soul, no purpose other than to be owned by a man.

That season taught her the most valuable lesson about herself: she needed a man who loved her for her heart, not her body. She needed to be sure her mother knew that, though she doubted it was in question.

“I want a man to love me for my heart. Not my face. Just like you and Father. A true love’s match. I will not be some man’s trophy. I must be his treasure.” It was nothing new for Hope to hear that she was beautiful. And oh, just thinking that made her feel churlish and petulant. She didn’t resent being beautiful. She was not so foolish as to think her life would be better if her looks were diminished. But she also preferred not to give it much thought. Whether she looked fetching in a blue, yellow, or red dress was not of particular importance to her. Though she knew it mattered to so many others, she couldn’t quite make herself put more time than was absolutely necessary into getting dressed.

Unfortunately, what she deemed absolutely necessary and what her lady’s maid deemed absolutely necessary were absolutely and necessarily contradictory. There were more than a few delays when Hope attempted to ready herself for certain casual affairs and her lady’s maid had intervened.

“Hope, you must know something. There are three types of beauties in the world. The first type of beauty, onlysomepeople will recognize. The second type of beauty,almost allpeople will recognize. The third type of beauty is undeniable. For beauty to be undeniable, the object in question must possess an internal light that shines so bright within them that it is impossible not to see. You, my dear, have that undeniable glow.”

“So says my mother.”

“So says everyone who catches sight of you.”

Hope shrugged. She had heard it all before.

Her shrug was followed by a sigh. It would be nice to know she was liked for who she was, not just how she looked or who her family was. But that was a dream. An impossibility, actually. She could only trust her mother that this Christmas wouldn’t turn into showcasing Hope. It seemed as though Mama was fixated on matchmaking the other guests.

Normally she would be thrilled to plan a house party with her mother, but something felt amiss this season. Perhaps it was the snow that had yet to fall. Being only three days shy of Christmas, she ought to have seen a snowflake or two, but not a single one had wafted through the air.

She was hesitant to admit the effect the emptiness of the country house was having on her. Snowick Abbey was a vibrant place. Full of life and people. There, the family had always spent Christmas together, for as far back as she could remember.

Up until, and just after, the seven-way wedding in which she lost her brothers but gained an equivalent amount of sisters, she had been too caught up in the chaos to consider what would happen next.

Apparently, this was next. Planning a Christmas house party without them. So it only made sense to throw herself fully into it. Soon there would be people filling the rooms, playing cards, dancing, and enjoying winter activities. Well, winter activities sans snow.

It would be a delight to have people around. Isaac would arrive soon. A light-toed shiver danced up her spine. She hadn’t seen him for ages. Had it really been since the wedding? Ah well, he had probably been off gallivanting with one of his blonde haired mistresses. Some men had a type. And some men had that type over and over again. As her mother had not too unkindly observed.

Isaac and her were friends, but that was by default. Whenever he had come to visit one of her brothers, she had inadvertently spent time with him. So now she would see him, and none of her brothers would be around. And hadn’t Hope been yearning for time and space from her overprotective brothers? This Christmas house party should be just what she needed.

Hope cast a glance over to her mother, head bent over another sheet of paper making a few more scribbles.

“Are we ready for everyone, Mama?”

“Yes, dear. I do believe we are. The guests won’t start arriving until later this evening, so I should have just enough time to review these final notes with Cook.”

“I’ll put this away for you then.” Hope reached for the inkwell at the same time as her mother.

“Oh, dear.” Mavis was chuckling as ink spilled all down the front of Hope’s red frock. “Oh, my Heavens.” Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were sparkling in amusement. “You must go and change now. There’s enough time before any guests start to arrive.” Mavis’s startling clap was shadowed by laughter. “Quickly, now.”

Well, it wasn’t Hope’s favorite dress, anyway.

Chapter 2

THISWASGOINGTObe a long house party. For many reasons, Isaac, Duke of Regium, could feel a rope wrapped around his chest being pulled tighter and tighter with each step he took toward Snowick Abbey. One end was inside tethered to raven locks, crimson lips, and purest of hearts. She was a close friend of his and his best friend’s little sister. Untouchable. Not that he wanted her. So he told himself every time he saw her.

The other end was currently being pulled taut by his sister. An equally vexing female, but in an entirely different capacity.

He furrowed his brow as he watched Astrid shamelessly bat her eyelashes at the footman grabbing her luggage from the back of the carriage. Sure, the liveried servant had nice calves, thick thighs, and wavy blonde locks any wanton woman would lust after, but did it have to be his sister who was the wanton woman? And did it have to be right in front of his eyes? Couldn’t she wait until she was alone? Then again, he didn’t want her to be alone with the heavenly-favored footman. There was really no good outcome here. He needed to marry her off. And soon.

“Do be sure to put that one inmyroom.” As if the footman wasn’t sure that the pink-tinted leather luggage belonged to the only female alighting from the carriage.