ANGELA HAD to admit that Gerard Stark was quite a capable man.

The Garden Ball was among the much-awaited events during the season. It was not just one of the largest and most lavish balls; it was also one of the most exclusive. Hosted by the Duke and Duchess of Remington, the attendants varied from members of the House of Lords to members of the royal family themselves.

Angela was invited because she was a Worthington, also because of her brother's amiable reputation within the polite society. But for someone untitled like Gerard Stark, she was relatively impressed.

If he gained an invitation here, there was no need for her to sponsor his sister. Angela could not fathom why he seemed keen to climb higher. Surely, he already gained society's nod of approval.

What more was there to achieve?

The question lingered in her mind as she watched Gerard Stark wait outside his carriage. He looked stunning that evening, just as when they first met. He was dressed in a black coat, an emerald waistcoat over a white shirt, finishing the look with a white cravat. His dark blond hair looked tousled yet arranged at the same time, inviting close inspection. Her gloved fingers twitched as she imagined how the locks would feel on bare skin.

She closed her hand into a fist, aware of the absurdity of her thoughts.

A woman in a bright yellow dress descended from the carriage like a bright firefly. Not only did her blonde hair and dress remind Angela of the Averly ballroom from a few nights ago, but the smile on the woman's face also painted a series of frightening images in her mind.

She looked overly bright. She could have worn the darkest of dresses and that smile would still outshine everyone else in the ball and therefore attract people.

And with people came trouble.

Angela's mind raced as the pair approached her and Jonathan.

"Is that her?" Jonathan asked.

"Apparently so, yes," she said through her teeth.

"Well," Jonathan said with a resigned sigh, "you would not have a problem introducing her to anyone. I wager she will soon be a crowd favorite."

"She will also be a handful."

"Quite beautiful, too. You should consider introducing her to Spencer."

Angela stiffened. "Why?"

"Have you forgotten that he wants a wife?"

Gerard Stark's eyes met hers as he guided his sister toward them. His gaze raked over her, studying her as much as she did him earlier. She swallowed and blinked. "Spencer thinks he does, but I do not believe Mr. Stark's sister is a good match."

"Why?" Jonathan inquired, eyeing the woman walking arm in arm with Stark.

"Because she is not gentry."

Jonathan snapped his head down to look at her. "Spencer is not gentry, Angela."

She shrugged. "I'm saying he deserves one that's not a potential scandal."

Her brother shook his head and broke into a smile when the siblings finally reached them.

"Good evening, my lord," Stark greeted, giving Jonathan a slight bow before he turned to Angela to take her hand and kissed it, his hand and lips lingering on it a second longer than they should, the warmth seeping through the fabric of her glove. "My lady."

The woman beside Stark was smiling brightly at them, her eyes glimmering expectantly. "Please allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Sabrina Stark," he added to Angela, motioning to his sister who dutifully curtsied, albeit clumsily. She introduced him to Jonathan until they were all acquainted.

And Angela finally heard the woman speak. "I'm honored to be sponsored by the Worthingtons on my first season in Coulway." Goodness, the woman might as well start singing. Sabrina stole her brother a look. "I do not know many people in Sutherland as I have not been here long, but my brother told me you are rich."

The smile on Stark's face remained, but he clearly stiffened. "Pardon my sister, she does come up with the most awkward jokes."

"I assume it was not a joke, for it is true," Angela said, eliciting an involuntary cough from her brother.

Sabrina laughed and faced Angela. "I hope you will be able to introduce me to people richer than you, my lady. My brother and I enjoy being surrounded by them."

Angela blinked, rendered speechless just as Jonathan burst into a laugh. "Your sister will soon capture the hearts of the polite society, Mr Stark."

"Oh, believe me, my lord, that is what he desires most," Sabrina said to Jonathan. "He may also be planning to find me a rich husband. If you happen to be looking for a wife, I will strongly consider you just to escape all these."

It was only when Jonathan laughed again did Angela realize that the woman was merely joking.

Stark's sapphire eyes caught Angela's sea-green globes. "I did try to warn you, but you seemed quite eager to agree."

Angela's brow twitched. "I can manage your sister, Mr Stark." And then she turned to Sabrina to say, "You shall be introduced with me, Miss Sabrina. But before that, I should discuss a few rules."

"Rules?" Sabrina turned to her brother. "You did not say anything about rules."

"Everything we do has rules," said Angela. "I'm not saying you will have to follow them all. You simply need to be aware of them."

Sabrina turned to her brother with amazement. "Now, I see what you meant, brother. I quite like her." And before Angela could say a word, she turned to climb up the stairs to the main entrance. "Very well, Lady Angela, what is the first rule?"

For a few seconds or longer, Angela was rooted in her spot, looking up at Sabrina with apprehension.

"If you think you cannot handle her, I will be right behind you, my lady," Stark said, voice amused.

Her eyes flickered toward him. "I would rather you do not follow us. You are here to fulfill your part of the bargain."

Stark grinned down at her. "I suggest you go now, my lady, before you lose my sister. She has a habit of disappearing at the most unfortunate times. I would hate for her to make her own acquaintances. I very much rather they be your acquaintances."

Angela turned to Jonathan who only shrugged, giving her a look that said, "This was your idea."

Her jaw tightened, and she squared her shoulders. Lifting her chin, she followed Sabrina up the stairs. "Number one rule, Miss Sabrina, is that you avoid scandal. There are also a few rules attached to it..."

*****

"Mr Stark," the Earl of Hargrave spoke beside him, "I truly hope you do not regret this odd deal with my sister."

Gerard turned to the earl. "Just Stark, my lord. And pray tell, why would I regret my agreement with your sister?"

Jonathan Worthington's amused and knowing smile stirred alarm in Gerard. "Just Hargrave, Stark. I believe this situation you have with my sister calls for a need for us to be friends."

He saw the warning in the man's eyes and he smiled. "I hope you do not misunderstand my intentions. I am not looking for a wife, nor seeking any form of bond with your sister."

Liar. Of course, he wanted to do more than just kiss Angela Worthington's gloved hand. He was a hypocrite, that's what he was. He was facing the woman's brother and claiming to be honorable, yet his eyes had been stripping Angela Worthington's hand of her gloves, wondering how it would feel to have her fingers brush through his hair and her palms flat on his chest and back, or her nails digging into his skin...

He cleared his throat to cleanse his thoughts.

He may desire the woman as he would any other, but she was not to be touched. He learned his lesson in London.

The earl's laughter drew him back to the present. "I'm not talking about your intentions toward my sister, Stark. She can very well handle herself in a situation, albeit in the most incongruous ways. You will not survive her unless she allows it."

Stark felt challenged, wanting to prove to this man that his sister was a woman he could very well have for himself, but then again, he had learned his lesson. "What then did you mean when you said I will regret this?"

Jonathan Worthington let out a long sigh, eyes on his sister who was now at the top of the stairs, giving Sabrina the rules of avoiding scandals. "I fear that you have misjudged her status in society."

He frowned, following the earl's gaze. "Why? Is she a bastard?"

Jonathan chuckled. "I will let that ignorant comment pass, Stark. However, you are unfortunately wrong. She is a Worthington from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes. She is simply different."

"And why is that?"

The earl gave him a quizzical look laced with amused bewilderment. "You truly do not have any idea, do you?"

"I believe I do not, seeing how you are looking at me as though I'm stupid."

Jonathan laughed. "I am awed that you never realized. She must have been quite convincing. Or elusive."

"The brief time I spent with her made me realize she's smart. Sabrina needs a little of that."

"Beyond smart to have fooled you then, I should say."

He felt like a fool now, and he did not even know why. "I do not like the sound of that."

"Fooled? Do not take it seriously, most particularly where Angela is concerned. She will always make you feel like a fool." Gerard snapped his head at Jonathan. The young earl chuckled. "Fret not, my friend, that's why I'm here for."

Gerard frowned. "And what is your purpose here?"

"I am to introduce them to my friends, of course." Seeing the confused look on his face, Jonathan added, "Because she does not have any."

"Who?"

"Angela, who else?"

Gerard froze, trying to gauge if the earl was trying to be funny. "Surely you are jesting. She has promised to introduce my sister to her friends this season and—"

"My sister is one step away from a recluse, Stark. She does not come to Coulway unless she's dragged. Her friends back home are limited to her horse, her maid, and a few animals at the nearby woods," Jonathan interjected, eyes glistening with delight at Gerard's confused state. "Do you feel like a fool now?"

"No way in bloody hell—"

"I do thank you nonetheless, for this deal the two of you have may just do our family good." He motioned at Sabrina. "I will help my sister with yours. It shall not be long before Miss Sabrina will find herself the apple of society's eyes. Unlike my sister, I have many human friends."

Gerard gritted his teeth, unexpectedly feeling trapped. "I can smell another deal."

Jonathan broke into a wide grin, stretching his divided chin. "I'm glad you are smart." He directed his grey gaze back to the two ladies. "Your sister will have an amazing first season in Sutherland if you can find my sister an excellent match. Miss Sabrina will never be short of ball invitations and introductions. That will be taken care of."

Gerard slowly shook his head, feeling indeed foolish for having been deceived by Angela Worthington, but he could not help but be amazed by this new opportunity. "If you seek membership into my club," he said to the earl.

Jonathan shrugged. "I have figured you will require as much. Very well, that shall be done. I will send you a list of specifications I wish to have for her match."

"Not Spencer Pembroke?"

Jonathan's face turned serious. "Pembroke is not who my sister wants. It's your job to find someone she will at least consider."

Gerard slowly nodded. "I am assuming this shall be a secret?"

"Of course, it is," the earl replied with a scoff. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a Miss Sabrina Stark to introduce to my friends," Jonathan added before joining both ladies at the doors.

*****

When the footman intoned their entrance into the ball, Angela was aware that the interest they drew from the crowd had nothing to do with her.

They were interested in Jonathan, the handsome young Earl of Hargrave, and the young woman walking beside him and his sister. Sabrina seemed fascinated by the attention, whispering to Angela, "I now understand the clamor over the Worthingtons."

She had no response to that as she found no clamor over their family's name. There was merely interest. Jonathan should be married by now, and yet he was not, and that raised questions amongst the polite society.

Too in love with his freedom? Too much of a rake? Involved in an unrequited love? Involved with a woman he should not have?

There were rumors, but Jonathan was charming enough to dissuade anything more serious.

"Stay by my side, Miss Sabrina," said Angela when the woman started to turn. "Remember what I told you earlier."

"I do not think I will find scandal in a packed ballroom, my lady," replied the woman. "But I am quite excited to meet your friends. Wherever are they?"

Jonathan rescued her by saying, "Lady Angela's friends can wait, Miss Sabrina."

"Please, just Sabrina, my lord. And to you as well, my lady."

Jonathan nodded, offering his arm to the woman. "What say you to me introducing you to my friends instead?"

It was not long before Sabrina was in the middle of the dance floor with one of Jonathan's acquaintances.

While her brother chatted with his friends nearby, Angela stood in one corner, pleased and internally proud of herself, really. It was a task to convince Jonathan to do this, but after she told him all the details of her agreement with Stark and the consequences she would face if she failed to do her part, he ultimately agreed.

Tearing her eyes off Sabrina, she immediately spotted Spencer on his way toward Jonathan. He had not seen her yet, but he would in no time.

Making a sharp turn, Angela hurried away.

"Lady Angela, good evening!" a young man said, blocking her path.

She blinked and frowned. Then her jaw tightened. "Lord Barnes," she greeted through her teeth with a curtsy. Barnes had been introduced to her by Jonathan on her first season. Since then, the man had been the one consistent person to always ask for a dance.

"I hope that you're having a lovely night."

"Yes," she replied without meeting his gaze. He was a fine-looking man, but his presence was never a comfortable one. They had danced together once, and she never wanted a second.

He cleared his throat and asked, "May I pen my name on your dance card?" 

"No," was her fast and stern reply, stepping to the side. She left Barnes, whose face had hardened at her blunt reply.

"That was rather harsh," Stark murmured beside her.

She turned to him in surprise. He seemed amused. When their eyes met, he must have thought her gaze was an invitation, and he immediately fell into pace with her, reminding her of their time in the garden.

"Was that a sample of manners you plan to teach my sister?"

"Towards men who cannot keep their hands at the right parts of a lady's anatomy during a dance, yes," she retorted, jaw tight as she maneuvered through the crowd, away from Barnes and Spencer.

He stopped walking, and she paused with curiosity. He was looking over at Barnes.

"If you think it will impress me should you confront him, then you are wrong. I can handle myself, Mr Stark."

He slowly turned to her, his face serious. "Your brother has said the same, but I wonder what he'll do if he finds out that his sister has been—"

"I said I can handle myself," she stonily interjected. Stepping closer, she added under her breath, "You are in no position to report anything to my brother or feel any sort of responsibility other than fulfilling your end of our bargain."

He said nothing for a while. Just looked at her. Then he broke into a smile. "Very well."

"Good." Angela turned and started walking, her eyes on the dance floor at Sabrina and her partner.

Stark walked with her and leaned lower. "You tricked me."

"Which trick are you talking about?" she asked without looking, blindly making her way through the crowd, eyes tracking Sabrina.

"Into thinking that you can introduce my sister to your friends."

It was easy how he figured it out fast, considering the time he spent with Jonathan earlier. "I intend to do that after I make my friends."

He chuckled. "Good Lord, I want to do two different things to you at this moment," he murmured under his breath.

"Which are?"

"I want to strangle you."

She turned to look up at him. "And the other?"

His eyes caught hers. "I would rather not put it into words."

She looked away with a frown, curious. Was he trying to be mysterious, or was the second thing he wanted to do to her too abhorrent to mention? "I would not have signed our agreement if I did not have any means to hold my end of the bargain," she said instead, motioning toward his sister. "My brother has a tremendous array of friends and acquaintances."

"Resourceful," he grumbled, pressing closer to her as they squeezed through a group of men and women.

"Thank you."

"But I was still hoping you would have your own circles that will welcome my sister."

She stopped walking. He stood beside her, facing the dance floor to watch Sabrina. "I may not have the best social circle, Mr Stark, but I was trained how to act like a proper lady in society." Her gaze lingered on the tiny mole under his right eye, one that was barely there. "After meeting your sister, I believe she needs the same training. Making friends can come after."

He did not immediately offer a response. He turned his head and for what seemed an endless moment, he just held her gaze, making her feel pleasantly uncomfortable. "I am afraid she does, yes," he finally spoke before he blinked and tore his eyes away from hers. Clearing his throat, he searched for his sister again.

Angela took the liberty to assess him.

He was doing this for his own personal gain. Him willing to throw his sister into the fray so he could climb up the ladder did not settle well with Angela. He was like many others, after all. She wondered then how he would react when he found out that the very place he wanted to be a part of was nothing but a dark room with scattered shards of expensive glass—so broken that everyone had to pretend it did not hurt when they danced around it.

With those thoughts in mind, Angela said in a low voice, "Mr Stark, I want to find the woman I wish to match for Spencer."

He blinked a few times in confusion. "Is that not what we agreed?"

She shook her head. "I mean that I will seek for this woman myself, not you."

"Then what do you expect me to do?"

She looked around to be certain no one was listening. "What you do best, of course. Stage ways for them to meet and know each other."

"Why do I have a feeling that you find my ability to find a match for your friend lacking?"

"No, of course not, but I realized that the principles that guide you into making a match may be... mistaken."

"I beg your pardon?"

She shrugged, looking at Sabrina and the young lord she was dancing with. "You judge people by their status."

She stiffened when his hand came to her elbow to get her attention. When she met his gaze, his eyes were already in slits. Her words offended him. "I am sorry, my lady, but was it not you who said that I should find your friend a rich woman with good standing in society?"

"Yes, because it's apparent that you are not the only person who judges people by the materials of their shoes. As Spencer's friend, I want one who has good shoes with durable materials. She must also be adorable."

"And you think I cannot spot an adorable woman? Or good shoes?"

She blinked. "Certainly, yes. You found me quite fascinating."

He blinked. "I still do, yes."

"Then that's why you are not an excellent judge of character. I do not just want status for Spencer, Mr Stark."

He gaped at her. "How do you expect to find someone and judge them by their character if you lack the ability to make friends with them, my lady?"

"Your sister will do that for me."

"Oh, no, not Sabrina." He leaned closer to hiss, "If you do that, you will end up introducing your friend to a chambermaid."

"Why?"

"Because that's what she does. She makes everyone her friend."

Angela thought for a moment. "Jonathan will accompany us to many more balls and events. With your sister's natural social charm, she can use my status to make friends with the right people. Under my guidance, of course."

"This is not what we agreed on," he insisted.

In a voice so low it was impossible for any eavesdropper to hear, Angela said, "We agreed I shall sponsor your sister this season and I am sponsoring her with the help of my brother; you agreed to find Spencer a match and I will take that task from your very capable hands, so you can efficiently do what I ask whenever I ask for it."

"That is not in the agreement."

"It is stated that you will facilitate the match, which you will do once I find a woman suitable for my friend."

"And if I do not agree to whatever plan you come up with?"

"You will." She turned away. Under her breath, she added, "I do not make silly plans."

"Trust me, my lady, that the moment you walked into my office was the first of your silly plans."

Her head snapped back to stare at him. "I have thought of every possibility before you found me in your office, Mr Stark. My plans were ready while you were too busy thinking about beds."

She watched his jaw harden. "I'm beginning to think your brother may be right."

"About what?"

"That you make people feel like a fool."

She froze. "Jonathan said that?"

He hesitated. "Are you offended?"

"No," she lied. "Perhaps he is right." Stiffly, she turned and walked away. Much to her relief, he did not follow.

Did she truly make people feel like a fool?

Why would they think themselves fools if they were not?