For their lifelong patience and attention while I talk endlessly about writing, I thank Thing One and Thing Two. I love my girls more than life.

For their loyalty and tireless effort, I thank the loveliest ladies ever, my Chatelaines.

For her delicious Instagram feed (@life_in_swaledale) that made me feel like I know Swaledale and Yorkshire far better than I actually do, I have to thank the real Jenni Gosling, whose images of her shepherdess life inspired so much within this book, including my favorite character, Topknot. Jenni, I wrote you a book for a wedding present! I hope I meet you both someday.

PROLOGUE

Prologue

PREVIOUSLY, REGARDING THE WICKED WORTHINGTONS

(AS OVERHEARD IN A FINE BALLROOM IN LONDON)…

THOSE DEPLORABLE WORTHINGTONS ARE not the sort of family a respectable person should associate with," the first lady whispered from behind the cover of her painted silk fan, "unless of course, one is terribly interesting or innovative — or perhaps inclined to align oneself to a family who have the mercurial Prince Regent's respect."

The lady's companion leaned forward to take on her conspiratorial whisper. "And they make such interesting party guests — as long as one has the resources to make a few minor repairs after the festivities. Wherever they go and whomever they associate with, fascinating things happen that keep London Society thrillingly agog — even though, mind you, we don't truly approve of such goings on."

"Agreed." Lady First smiled knowingly. "Just look at the oldest daughter, Calliope, who married that strange recluse in the Cotswolds! Rumor has it that there was a swordfight — or was it a duel? — and that Sir Lawrence is a scarred and frightening fellow indeed. Then again, I've also heard that he is wealthy as a lord and keeps poisonous snakes in his wine cellar, so there is simply no trusting in rumor."

Lady Second whipped open her carved ivory fan with the dexterity of long practice to shield her half of the conversation from the rest of the ballroom. "It is those twin brothers, Castor and Pollux Worthington, who are the real scandal! Do you recall when they burned down that brothel fighting over a stunning widow, Miranda Something-or-other? I heard the battle was so fierce that one brother was driven right out of London by the other!"

A bit of happily scandalized head-shaking ensued.

Lady First looked smug. "Oh, yes. Of course, things calmed down a great deal once Elektra Worthington wed that nice Lord Aaron Arbogast. No one ever really believed those terrible things about him, not really. Those ten years he spent in the tropics were to learn estate management, not because of some silly public shunning. Such a fine fellow now! He is likely to become the Earl of Arbodean very soon. With all that wealth and power soon to be under his control, it isn't wise to repeat any of that deliciously wicked history, don't you agree?"