“A nobody.” She tossed her head. “His father owned a timber mill near Boston. I could never have married him without disgracing myself and my family.” He saw real emotion in her eyes for the first time. “Please don’t tell Mama I told you anything about it. It’s supposed to be a secret. I don’t know why I told you.”

“It’s all right. Your secret’s safe with me,” he said gently. “I’ll play my role to perfection, Miss Chandler. I’ll make you London’s reigning belle.”

Her face lit up. “I think we shall suit, Your Grace.”

“Perfectly, Miss Chandler.”

They shook hands on a deal that was mutually beneficial to all parties.

Even though it all felt empty, somehow.

When West returned home, he was greeted by the sound of laughter and excited voices. He followed the merriment to the music room. His sisters were clustered around Miss Beaton as she sat at the pianoforte, playing a sprightly air. Her eyes glowed and her hair had come loose from her cap, sending tendrils of soft brown curls around her shoulders.

“Lady Blanche, may I have this dance?” Betsy asked in a low voice, making a deep bow.

Blanche giggled and accepted her arm. The two of them twirled onto the carpet, pretending to be dancing at a ball.

West smiled and nearly walked into the room. He stopped himself just in time. His presence would only put a damper on the warmth and intimacy of the moment. He never spent time with his sisters of an evening. He was always out at the gaming hells indulging in fleeting pleasures. Burying himself under layer upon layer of iniquity until he couldn’t even stand to look at his face in the mirror.

He wasn’t carefree. He wasn’t happy.

He’d known that for a long time. Contentment was something that only belonged to other people. He didn’t know what true happiness felt like.

He knew the taste of pleasure, the compulsion to gamble, the blessed oblivion of gin and whisky.

Miss Beaton—Viola—knew happiness. She glowed with it. That ready smile of hers, the dimples she bestowed upon the world so effortlessly, the charming way she had of humming under her breath as she walked.

She was joyful by nature, and happiness found her because she had a sweet and giving disposition. That was it, wasn’t it?

He’d suppressed that warm, open side of himself when he was still a young man. He’d vowed to become bad and wicked and he’d accomplished his goal so thoroughly that he’d become everything his father said he was.

It didn’t matter if he wanted to enter the music room and receive his share of Viola’s attention. Make her smile and then bask in the warm glow.