A Chance to Kiss the Marquess (Charmed By Chance #3)

Chapter 1

1

T hree months earlier…

The library was a calm, quiet respite in the midst of this lively house party, and Miss Ann Truesdale curled up in her chair at the writing desk in the corner.

Winter was drawing to a close, and the Season would soon begin, but right here and now, Ann relished the calm.

A loud laugh came from down the hall.

Well, relative calm.

Her lips twitched up in amusement as she peered down at her own handwriting. That laugh had to belong to The Duke of Carver. He was hosting this house party, and as one of Carver’s closest friends was set to marry Ann’s sister Franny, Ann-the-perpetual-wallflower had been invited to tag along as well.

Truthfully, she’d been quite overwhelmed by all the high and mighty gentlemen at this gathering—particularly the terrifying Marquess of Kalvin.

Lord Kalvin . Drat, why was that name so difficult for her to say?

She’d made such strides with her speech issues, but there were some circumstances that still brought it out in her. Circumstances…and people. Namely, Lord Kalvin.

But who would blame her? With his piercing stares and dark good looks, the man gave new meaning to the word intimidating.

She sighed and turned the page in her notebook. She’d just have to keep practicing. That was how she’d come this far, and it was how she would one day overcome her stuttering issue entirely.

Unlike her mother and sister, who seemed to think she’d magically outgrow the issue as she aged, Ann knew better. There was no such thing as magic. Only dedication and practice and dutifully applying oneself to one’s exercises.

But fortunately for Ann, Lord Kalvin seemed to have as little interest in conversing with her as she did with him. And the same went for their host, the Duke. While undeniably charming and polite, he was too busy carousing with his chums to pay much attention to the tagalong little sister of his friend’s fiancée.

Which was for the best. Ann was more than content to spend time with her dear sister and her wonderful husband-to-be Rodrick.

Rodrick had two sisters of his own, and perhaps because he was such an experienced brother, Ann had felt comfortable around him from the start. And then there was Lord Albright, the fourth member of that crew of young handsome gentlemen Ann had inexplicably been drawn into. He’d been nothing but kind to Ann in the time she’d known him so he was easy to be around as well.

Apparently there’d been a fifth young lord in this crow, Rodrick’s friend Alex, the newly titled Earl of Pickington. But he’d gone and married Rodrick’s sister Eloise, and inherited an earldom, and was so preoccupied with these life changes, Ann had seen little of him.

Still. Four handsome, eligible young men was more than enough to drive Ann to the library for a reprieve. Her fellow wallflower friends would laugh if they could see her here with the most sought after men of the ton . And she supposed the other ladies of her acquaintance would be green with envy.

But for Ann, this house party marked a hurdle to overcome. If she could make it through this event without humiliating herself entirely, she might just stand a chance of finding a match this Season.

Which was the other reason she was here in the library poring over her notebook. Her hand hovered over a blank page as she tried to focus on what she ought to write next.

Her mind raced back to the events of that morning, of the times her dratted tongue had betrayed her. And then she set about her exercises.

But all the while, her mind was elsewhere. It was back at her family home, still stewing over the words her mother had spoken before sending her off with Franny and their maid. If you play your cards right, perhaps you’ll find a husband of your own at this party.

She lifted her pen and stared down at her handwriting with a sigh.

She hoped that one day she’d wed and have a family of her own. There was nothing more she wanted than to find a place where she belonged. A place where she could settle into a comfortable life, preferably far away from society’s scrutiny.

She pursed her lips as she thought of Lord Albright’s soft smile, and his easy way of speaking.

Ann almost never grew tongue tied around the young widower. She would have liked him for that alone, but as Rodrick’s friend, she’d spent a good deal of time with Albright of late, and the more she grew to know him, the more she found to like.

He was good, and kind, and…comfortable. And that was precisely what she wished for.

The problem was…

How to make a man see her like that ? As it was, she had the feeling he saw her only as Franny’s little sister. Even though the age difference between her and her sister was minimal, everyone tended to treat her as a child. And Albright was no different. He was kind, yes, but hardly flirtatious.

And wasn’t flirtation how a courtship began?

She did her best to imagine what a romantic conversation would look like. And then she did what she did best. She practiced.

Why yes, I would love to dance with you, Lord Albright.

A kiss? Why yes, I suppose that would be all right.

I’d be delighted to marry you, my lord.

A snicker escaped as Ann let her imagination run wild and she put her quill to the parchment.

Of course I shall put you out of your misery and allow you to kiss me, Lord Albright.

She was outright laughing as she let herself get carried away with fantastical scenes.

This was where fantasy belonged. On paper. In a notebook that no one would ever see.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to practice her responses… Just in case.

“Ann! Ann, are you in here?”

She heard Rodrick’s voice before he came into the library. When he spotted her, he grinned. “There you are.”

Ann hurriedly shut the book and went to tuck it into the pocket of her gown where she always stored it. “Did you need me?”

“Indeed. We’re about to start a game of Blind Man’s Bluff. Are you in?”

Ann shot to her feet. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

She ran out of the library without a glance behind.

Which, it turned out…was a mistake.

* * *

As far as John Vergo, The Marquess of Kalvin was concerned, house parties were tedious affairs.

The Marquess, best known to his friends as Kal since he’d inherited the title nearly a decade before, disliked social gatherings of any kind, but house parties were particularly dreadful because one could not escape.

Even from the library of his cousin’s country estate, he could hear the voices and laughter coming from the other party guests as they tried their best to fill the cold winter days with diverting indoor entertainment.

His cousin– second cousin, in point of fact—was the loudest among them. Which wasn’t a surprise, really. The Duke of Carver was renowned for being charming and gracious and…

All of the things Kal was not.

He’d heard that yet another game was about to begin—Blind Man’s Bluff, of all things—and hadn’t wasted a moment excusing himself.

A high-pitched, tinkling laugh filtered up from below…

He’d escaped just in time, it seemed.

His cousin had invited their closest friends, including Rodrick, which meant his cousin had then felt compelled to invite Rodrick’s fiancée, Franny. Which meant that Franny’s younger sister Ann was also in attendance.

He’d guess it was Ann’s laugh he’d heard. She was quick to laugh, he’d noticed, though she did not speak much. She was shy like that. Always blushing and stammering when one addressed her directly.

Or she used to, he recalled. In truth, he hadn’t heard her speak much since she and her sister had arrived at this house party. And in all the years he’d been acquainted with her family, he’d never known her to address him directly if she could help it.

Not that he minded. He was accustomed to people steering clear of him. It came with the territory when one became Marquess at such a young age. And between his youth and inheriting a struggling estate, he’d had to work harder than most to earn the respect of his peers. The weight of responsibility had driven the fun-loving youth straight out of him, and he’d learned that kindness was more often than not mistaken for weakness.

So no, it was no surprise that his peers did not particularly relish his company.

Still, when he’d come upon Ann exiting the library a short while ago, she’d bolted as if he were a predator in the wild.

More sweet, melodic laughter drifted up from below, breaking the silence. Kal sighed and glanced out the window at the snow-covered scene. It wasn’t that he resented that the others were enjoying themselves. He was glad of it. Especially if it meant he was able to work without being bothered.

It was only that all their laughter was making it deucedly difficult to concentrate. And it wasn’t as though this article he’d been given to read on the history of drainage systems was particularly riveting to begin with. But if he was to make informed decisions on the new measure Lord Hearth proposed when sessions resumed, then he’d need to know his business.

Kal turned his attention back to the pamphlet in his hands just as another shout of laughter cut through the silence. Whether it was the tedium of the article or the incessant interruptions, Kal gave up on reading. He stood, pacing the length of the room, his gaze scanning the book spines for a title that might better hold his interest.

After all, Carver kept reminding him that this house party was a time to relax before the Season was underway. So perhaps he ought to find a novel or–

His gaze caught on a book that wasn’t neatly tucked away on the shelf. It was sitting on an armchair by the fireplace, and upon closer inspection, there was no title to be seen on the cover or spine.

Curious.

He picked it up and opened it, and straight away he understood what he was reading.

A diary. He flipped through some pages, noting the large, curly, feminine scrawl. He had a suspicion he knew who this belonged to. A flash of red curls and freckled cheeks appeared before his eyes.

Even if he hadn’t seen Ann darting out of this room a little while ago, he still would have connected her with this feminine scrawl. He imagined her sister Franny’s handwriting would be neat and small, her letters as reserved as her person.

But despite Ann’s shy nature, there was an energy there that came out in her laughter and her smiles, and it was that same irrepressible exuberance that came through in this writing.

A moment later he realized with a flash of guilt that these were someone’s innermost thoughts. He went to close it, but then?—

Don’t be daft, Dottie.

That was the only line on one page, and he found himself staring at it despite his guilt. Who was Dottie?

He shook his head. It was none of his business. What he ought to be focused on was confirming who this belonged to so he could return it. He assumed her name would be on the first page, but when he flipped backwards to find it, he stopped again, this time in shock.

Lord Kalvin.

His name was written in large letters at the top of the page. And then…

His brows arched high as his gaze scanned down the page.

Lord Kalvin, Lord Kalvin, Lord Kalvin…

The list went on and on until the writer apparently grew bored with the title and then it merely became Kalvin, Kalvin, Kalvin.

His name. Written over and over.

What in blazes…? He flipped the book to the first page and—sure enough, the owner’s name was written in large curly letters. This book belongs to Miss Ann Truesdale.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway had him snapping the journal shut with a guilty snick . And for a full moment he stared down at it, trying to figure out why his heart was racing.

Miss Ann had written his name. Multiple times. Over and over, and…why?

His mouth went dry and his heart slammed against his ribcage.

His response was daft, and within moments he’d regained the full use of his senses. It hardly mattered why she’d written his name in such an odd manner. It didn’t bear thinking about, really. What mattered was that he return the diary with all due haste.

He left the library, following the sounds of laughter to the large drawing room on the first floor. As he drew close to the drawing room, he walked past Franny and Rodrick, who were bent together laughing, though with hands muffling their mouths as though they were trying to keep quiet.

“You’re not allowed to leave the room, you know,” Ann’s voice called from the drawing room.

Franny laughed harder behind him.

He kept walking, entering to find Ann in the center of the room with her back to him. He saw Carver and their friend Albright slipping out the other door, leaving Ann there alone in the middle of the room.

Odd, but convenient. He did not wish to embarrass her further by returning her journal in front of the others who might tease her about what she’d written there.

My name , he could say. His heart gave an odd sort of hiccup. My name over and over.

What did that mean ?

He gave his head a little shake as he moved toward her, clearing his throat to speak. But when he was close enough he could reach out and tap her on the shoulder, she surprised him by spinning around and grabbing his arms. “Got you!” she crowed.

Kal froze. He wasn’t sure which was the most shocking. That Ann wore a blindfold—though in hindsight, he had heard they’d be playing Blind Man’s Bluff, hadn’t he?

Or that she was voluntarily touching him—nay, clutching him like she wasn’t about to let go.

But no, not the blindfold nor her hand on his arm was as shocking as the expression she wore. Her head was tipped back, and the smile she aimed up at him was brighter than the sun itself.

He’d seen her smile before, plenty of times. But never like this.

Never aimed at him. Without fear or embarrassment or intimidation.

Just a smile filled with that irrepressible joy that was so singularly…her.

He went still as his heart hammered mercilessly against his ribs. And for a long moment they stood there like that. Her smiling up at him, and him gazing down at her.

And he forgot how to breathe. He couldn’t draw in a single breath as her smile washed over him like fresh water after days at sea.

Her brows hitched but her smile never wavered. “Lord Albright? Is that you?”

The sound of his friend’s name on her lips made him irrationally angry. But it also cut through his stunned state and had him backing away until her hand fell away.

“Over here!” Carver called. He and Albright had doubled back, it seemed, so they were entering the room from the door Franny and Rodrick had exited.

Ann lurched toward them, arms outstretched as Franny and Rodrick hurried through the other door. “No, over here!” Franny called, laughter in her voice.

But Ann was stumbling straight toward Albright, and when she grazed him with her hand she tugged down her blindfold. “There! I knew I’d caught you!”

Kal kept backing away as the others crowded around Ann, laughing and teasing.

Carver was the only one who seemed to notice he was leaving just as quickly as he’d arrived. “Join us for a round, Kal. You used to love this game.”

Kal frowned. “When I was a child, perhaps.”

And then he turned to leave without a glance back toward the others. He headed to the library. It wasn’t until he was there that he glanced down and realized Ann’s diary was still in his hands.