Lady Lisette Wimberly glared at the tall, dark, male, standing with two of her brothers. It was her birthday ball, hosted by her parents the Duke and Duchess of Wimberly in their London townhouse. If it were not for him—Elisha Roulle, Viscount Marston, it would have been a wonderfully exciting evening. But, no. Here he was—again. Hadn’t he taken the hint when her Mama had invited him to Wimberly manor and she’d ran away from, ignored, tried everything on earth—to give him a disgust of her? This was her Mama’s doing. For a woman known for her unconventional life, her eccentricities, her insistence on bringing her children up with choice and more freedoms than most enjoyed—it did not make sense that the duchess had gotten it into her head that a bore like Marston would do for Lisette. Honestly! Lisette ground her back teeth. She could not even enjoy the fact that her brothers, Aiden and James, were here in their dashing uniforms, having just joined the military. Or, that the heir and former rakehell, her brother, Demetrius (Deme) Willingham, 4th Marquis of Fielding, had just rocked society on its heels by purposing to their Coachman’s daughter, Haven Mulhern.
