‘Easier said than done.’

Queen Charlotte's Debutante Ball…

So far, Freddie's evening had been torture. Nothing excited a crop of eager debutantes and their ambitious mothers more than an eligible peer of the realm, which meant he had had more eyelashes batted in his direction than even he, a shameless lover of women, could cope with.

As the first waltz began, he slipped out of the ballroom and wandered into the empty courtyard of St James's Palace to stare at the stars, wondering if it would really be the poor form everyone said it was to disappear before midnight. It wasn't as if he wanted to be here. He had come as a favour to his friend George and because his mother had wanted at least one Fitzroy to pay their respects to the Queen after their long absence from court.

Well, he had done that, and staying meant twirling a silly debutante around the floor and they were all too eager to be wed for his taste. When a chap took part in the dancing as good manners dictated, the debutantes got their hopes up that they might one day be his duchess. As much as Freddie wasn't in the market for a duchess, nor likely would be for the foreseeable future because he rather liked the bachelor life, he did still have a conscience. Upsetting young ladies unduly wasn't something he was comfortable with. Probably because he had two younger sisters and would strangle anyone who gave them false hope and clumsily broke their tender hearts.

He heard giggling and groaned.

'I am sure I saw Lord Frederick sneak outside.' The feminine voice sounded no older than his sisters. 'Alone.' That comment was accompanied by more giggling, suggesting that these determined debutantes had come hunting for him in a pack.

Quick as a flash, he darted through an archway and followed the narrow pathway along the outside edge of the palace. With any luck, it would lead to a convenient exit where he could escape onto Piccadilly into the night. Or perhaps the all-male sanctuary of White's a convenient stone's throw away. A nice brandy and a newspaper in a wingback by the fire appealed so much more than this hellish ball. He turned a bend and stopped dead at the sight of his friend's much too pretty younger sister sat all alone on a bench staring listlessly at nothing, and something odd happened beneath his ribs.

'Hello again, Dot.' She stiffened at his greeting, more awkward at being caught here than horrified to be caught alone with him. 'I see we are both hiding tonight.' Something in her tight smile made him worry about her, so he wandered closer. 'I'm on the run from a gaggle of giggling debutantes. Who or what has precipitated your flight from the ballroom?'

'Nothing.' Her eyes dropped to her lap. 'I just needed some air.'

She was a dreadful liar. 'What has Peter done wrong?'

Instantly her head snapped up. 'Why on earth would you say that?'

'Because he must have done something for you to have avoided him like the plague all evening.'

Freddie could have kicked himself for admitting that he had noticed, but his gaze had been strangely drawn to her after the odd moment he had experienced with her earlier. An odd moment where the floor had shifted, his heart had seemed to swell and the rest of the world had melted away. All so peculiar, it had left him off-kilter all day. 'I'd have thought the pair of you would be dancing the first waltz, staring soppily into one another's eyes, seeing as your imminent engagement is the worst-kept secret of the Season.' He glanced at her finger and was worryingly pleased to see no ring on it yet. 'Or are you simply upset that he is dragging his feet over proposing?'

'Not at all.' She bristled, because she had always bristled around him. 'There is no hurry.' And she seemed grateful about that. So grateful her beguiling face could not hide it.

'Ah…' He sat heavily beside her, shocked. Shocked that the match of the Season was apparently not quite as perfect as all the fervent gossip suggested, and even more shocked that he was relieved by that. 'I see.'

She went straight back to bristling again. 'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'That if you do not want to marry Peter, don't.'

Her outrage melted into instant despondency which she failed to cover with disdain. 'Peter is the perfect man. Any woman would be glad to have him.'

'Except you, Dot. Clearly.'

She opened her mouth to counter this, then clamped it shut. After a significant pause, she chose her next words carefully. 'Peter and I have been the best of friends forever.'

'So?' Freddie twisted so that he could study her properly. 'The love of a friend is quite a different beast from the sort that infects the heart. You can love someone and not be in love with them.'

She pondered that before she remembered he annoyed her. When she did, she turned away, folding her arms so tight it did wonders for her cleavage. 'I refuse to take romantic advice from a man like you! One who flits from affair to affair like a bee in a bed of roses. What do you know about the true meaning of love, when for you it is so transient and disposable?'

'For all my rakish ways, the heart of a romantic beats beneath this impressive chest. When the thunderbolt strikes, I shall throw myself headfirst into the parson's trap, just you wait and see.' He had always known that, deep down, as was the Fitzroys' way. They never did anything by half measures. When something was right, it was right, so there was no point in shilly-shallying. 'Until then, I am merely having some harmless fun.'

The silence stretched for a moment. 'Do you really believe love is like a thunderbolt? That it cannot grow slowly over time.'

'Like a fungus?' Freddie laughed. 'Perhaps for some it does, but I want the thunderbolt. We Fitzroys are a spontaneous and devil-may-care lot, whereas you Claremonts are…staid and all about duty.'

'There is nothing wrong with duty.'

'So long as it has a higher purpose. If the only purpose of this union is because your families expect it, then tell them that is unfair.'

'Easier said than done.' She regretted that admission instantly, her eyes so lost it plucked at his heartstrings. 'I did not mean that as it sounded.'

'Yes, you did. You love him as friend, but you are not in love with him.'

Because he had to, Freddie reached for her hand, and all at once, it was as if the world shifted on its axis again.

Like him, she stared at their linked fingers, stunned, as if she had felt the earth move too, then she tugged hers away to square her shoulders and stiffen her jaw. 'But I shall be.'