Bianca focused her attention on trying not to step on the foot of the gentleman who danced with her, even if she nearly failed at doing it for her mind was stuck on Race. She felt him watching her from across the room, and once the dance was over and she returned to his side, she hoped he would ask her for a dance. But he didn't. He instead stood by while yet another gentleman whisked her off to the dancefloor.

At first she thought nothing of Race's reluctance to dance with her, but the second she spotted him with her sister making their way to the dancefloor, anger immediately flooded her mind, causing her to miss a step and smash her heel on the toe of the poor lord.

“Forgive me, my lord.” She offered a half-hearted apology, not bothering to pay attention to his response as her eyes drifted to her sister who was now shamelessly flirting with Race.

She had fully decided to walk up to the couple and give them a piece of her mind, when they pulled away from each other, and hand-in-hand, made their way out of the ballroom.

Visibly furious, she turned from her dance partner and began making her way away from the dancefloor. Perhaps it would be best to catch the two red handed? If they thought they could make a fool of her, she would be the one to shame them. She would make known their act to society and—

Her thoughts were brought to an abrupt end, when she bumped into a large figure. Hissing in pain, she pressed her hand to her forehead.

“Be careful, my lady.” Strong hands took a hold of her shoulders.

“Forgive me.” She removed her hand from her forehead and glanced up at the figure. He was slightly familiar, but she didn't recognize him. His brown eyes sparkled with... Mischief? She wasn't sure what she saw in them, but they caused a cold chill to race down her spine, and his hold on her shoulders oddly filled her with fear.

She took a step back in a bid to get away from him.

“Do not think too much about it, it is you I must be concerned about. Perhaps I must get you a glass of wine?”

She shook her head, remembering her mission. “I must decline. Thank you, my lord.”

“Please, call me Anthony.”

“I must be excused now.”

This time making certain not to bump into any more people, Bianca manoeuvered her way through the ball room and to the hallway, failing to spot Race or her sister. What had she been thinking, that she would come out minutes later to find them lurking in the hallway? Surely they found a room for themselves.

Briefly, she considered storming out of the building and taking the carriage home. But she needed to confront them! She needed to look in the eyes of her lying husband, who, only a few hours ago, tried to seduce her. Perhaps he would seduce her sister tonight, due to her rejection?

She went through the halls in search of them, failing to find anything. She had decided to give up, when she heard voices drifting from a closed door.

She neared the door, and pressed her ear to it.

“I asked you to marry me, I sent a marriage certificate.” Race's voice drifted to her. He sounded upset.

“Bianca never told me of your plans. She took the certificate and journeyed to Bath where she seduced you, and forced you to marry her.”

Bianca shrunk back at her sister's lies. Carla would accuse her of seducing Race?! It was Carla who deceived her into journeying to Bath, and it was Race who seduced her!

Silence followed Carla's words, and Bianca considered leaving. Perhaps her lying sister and unfaithful husband deserved each other.

“Would you have married me if you had seen the certificate?” Race broke the silence.

“Perhaps.” Yet another falsehood from Carla. Bianca knew her sister would never have conceded to marrying Race, she also knew her sister only wanted him now because he was extremely wealthy, and he held the keys to her future, for her dowry was in his hands.

“You wouldn't.” Race's next words surprised her. He knew?! “You do not love me, my lady, and I am in doubt I loved you either. Perhaps I was a fool to have been misled by your beauty, but love? Love is too strong a word. Love should only be used in reference to a person one cannot help but think about, a person who causes one's heart to stop, skip, flip, accelerate...” He chuckled. “A person who invades one's thoughts at the oddest times in a day. A person one desires to be with, whose presence evokes pleasure and unspeakable joy. A person whose kiss makes you weak in the knees, whose kiss doesn't make you feel guilty. That person is not you, Lady Carla,”

“Race,” She gasped. Bianca too was shocked, for a few months ago, Race told her without mincing words that he could never love her because he loved her sister. Yet, he stood before her sister now, saying he didn't love Carla.

It didn't make sense, none of it! Perhaps it was his plan all along, to seduce two sisters, and connive his way to the fortune of their parents! It didn't surprise her that Race Belington turned out to be nothing but a gold digger.

“It is Bianca.” Bianca's lungs constricted, stopping her breathing, but it was his next words that stopped her heart: “I love your sister, and I must let her know.”

Afraid he would find her eavesdropping, she hurriedly made her way from the hall, and to the drawing room, where she settled on a chaise. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, but she didn't dare consider Race's words only a moment ago. He couldn't possibly have been serious! Surely he was jesting! Perhaps she heard incorrectly?!

When Race eventually showed up to help her to the carriage, she barely noticed Carla's absence. She instead sat anxiously waiting for him to repeat what it was she heard him say. But the time they were making their way into the building, her heart skipped with excitement.

“Have some tea with me in the drawing room.” Race turned to her.

Disappointed, she shook her head. “I do not feel well.” She didn't want tea, she wanted him. She wanted him to take her in his arms, and tell her what he had only a few hours ago, told her sister.

Frowning, he reached out and touched her forehead, sending a barely containable shiver of desire down her spine. “Shall I have a bath made?”

She shook her head once more, his hand falling to his side. “I only need to lie down.” With you, she wanted to add, but didn't think it appropriate with the butler so close by.

“Very well.” He kissed her. Bianca had to force her lips together to keep from moaning with pleasure. He pulled away suddenly. “I have work to do in my study. You should lie down.”

Disappointed, she watched him make his way down the hall.

She laid awake for several hours, before drifting to sleep after he failed to show up that evening. When she woke up the next morning, he still wasn't in the room. Anxious to find him, Bianca crawled out of bed and changed into a day dress, before combing her hair, and making her way out.

“You mustn't send me away for her.” Carla's silent whispers drifted to Bianca, forcing her to a halt on the stairs. Taking hold of the banisters, she leaned down enough to stare at the heads of her husband and sister.

“It is only appropriate.”

“You only think you love her, Race.” She touched his arm. “But you love me.”

He shoved her hand away, causing a smile to settle on Bianca's face. “I love her. Your dowry shall be the country house left by your father in London. Enough to earn you an Earl for a husband, if you so wish.”

Carla sighed. “Very well.”

Bianca watched her sister make her way down the stairs, before turning to Race. He stood there, dressed in his clothes from last night's ball. Where had he slept? Was it possible he spent the night with her sister? She shook her head, remembering what she heard him say to Carla; he loved her.

“Bea?”

She was dragged back to the present, her eyes coming to rest on Race's face. He stood on the same spot, staring up at her with a frown on his face.

“Race.” She whispered.

He began climbing the stairs then, only coming to a halt on the stair before her. “Lady Carla journeys to London today to begin the season. I insisted she said goodbye to yo—”

Bianca pressed her lips to his then, silencing him with a kiss. She placed both her hands against the sides of his face, and pressed her forehead to his. She stared into his eyes, silently pleading with him to repeat the words he spoke to her sister.

He touched her face, his eyes sparkling. “Have breakfast with me.” He whispered warmly.

Bianca giggled because food was the last thing on her mind, but Race kept inviting her to dine. She kissed his lips, longer this time, until his arms curled around her waist, and he responded passionately to her kiss.

Pulling away slightly, “Perhaps a bagel.”

His eyes darkened with passion, and he shook his head. “Come to bed with me.” He kissed her senseless.

“Why?” She was breathless, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Companionship? Cordiality? Heirs?”

“Love. Come to bed with me for love, Bea.”

Nodding, simply because she could barely speak, Bianca clung to Race, as he carried her up the stairs to their bedchamber. She released a soft sigh the second her body made contact with the bed. Race leaned down over her, and kissed her once more.

“Bea,” He pulled away slightly, evoking a loud groan of complaint from her lips.

“Hm?” She reached for him, but he shook his head and sat beside her.

“I kissed Lady Carla.”

Bianca knew of the kiss, but it didn't stop it from feeling like a stab to her heart.

She nodded. “I know.”

“Then you must know that I regret doing it, and I'm sorry.”

She searched his eyes for several seconds. “Are you? Did you share her bed?”

He shook his head furiously. “No! I couldn't. I could never do that to you... To her! To either of you!”

“Why?”

“I couldn't produce a child like myself, Bea. I couldn't hurt you either. I know it wasn't our plan to be married, but...” He breathed, and leaned forward, his nose nearly kissing hers. “I love you.”

Bianca heaved a breath and closed her eyes, his words sinking into her very core. She loved him too. She knew in the depths of her heart that she loved him, for the anger she felt when he was with her sister was as a result of that love. The desire to be with him, was as a result of that love.

She opened her eyes, and reached out until her fingers were brushing his face. “I love you too, Race.”

Their bodies became one that morning, not for heirs, not for cordiality, not for endurance, but for love. He was in love with her, not her sister.