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curls and a face that drew astonished and admiring gasps from the multitude of interested observers.
    Every notion of feminine beauty Justin had ever considered paled into nothingness as Lady Magdaléna Evinka Nadeja Valentin raised herperfect, softly rounded chin and surveyed all the conquered who stood below her on the wooden dock.
    Her skin was the finest cream, her brows like delicate ravens’ wings above enormous, tip-tilted eyes the color of old gold coins. The nose, regal, the mouth, wide and softly curving, the cheekbones, high, turning all of her beauty slightly yet wonderfully exotic.
    In the suddenly quiet crowd, and without the slightest idea who this creature could be, several of the women curtsied, many men bowed or touched their forelocks. The lady acknowledged this homage with an infinitesimal nod of her head, accepting the gestures as her due.
    â€œMerde,” Wigglesworth breathed, staggering where he stood, his eyes filling with tears of thanks and delight.
    Luka’s voice seemed to come to Justin from a distance. “Lady Alina, my lord. Your affianced bride.”
    â€œSweet Jesus,” Justin murmured under his breath, “the impertinent chit has upstaged me.”
    Worse, and for the first time in his memory, Baron Wilde realized that he might actually be experiencing some uneasiness—and a small modicum of anxiety for his own well-being.

CHAPTER TWO
    H ER HEART RACED SO RAPIDLY Alina feared it might stumble over itself and stop.
    Tatiana moments earlier had whispered into her ear that the Baron Wilde was not an ancient ogre, but young, and a near-god, and that her ladyship had once more stuck her thumb into the pie only to emerge with a most glorious plum.
    But that was the problem. Alina had not stuck her thumb into a pie. None of what had already happened had been at her desire or volition. His Majesty had stuck all of her into the pie, and she would have to find her own way out.
    Except there was no way out. Luka had convinced her of that. Her mother dead these past three years, her father perishing at Waterloo, she’d had no one but her aunt Mimi to represent her wishes at court. Which was the same as to say she had no one to protect her, to fight for her, to convince His Majesty that his sometimes troublesome ward should not be sacrificed in some ridiculous gesture to help cementrelations between her country and that of the greedy English.
    Aunt Mimi had called the betrothal an honor, even as she could not hide her triumphant smile at the prospect of being rid of the now grown-up niece whose beauty was on the rise just as her own was teetering toward a slippery slide into middle age.
    Once Alina had resigned herself to her fate, she had demanded only two things, one of which she received.
    Her insistence on knowing everything there was to know about this Baron Wilde fell on deaf ears. She knew no more about the man today than she had two months previously, except for Tatiana’s silliness just now.
    Her second demand had been not only met, but exceeded, as the ermine-adorned cloak well demonstrated. If she was to represent the court, the king, then she must be of the first stare, her wardrobe and retinue worthy of the emissary of His Majesty.
    Gone were the childlike gowns her aunt had insisted she be limited to, replaced by only the finest silks, the most elegant designs, the most fashionable of accessories—including the full jewelry boxes that had once belonged to her mother but for the past years had somehow become the possessions of her aunt.
    Alina had gifted the woman with the set of garnets and a pretty speech filled with gratitude for herloving care of her, and done so in the presence of the king, so that Mimi could not throw the nearly worthless stones back in her face.
    Small victories, few and far between, but Alina took pleasure in them just the same.
    She had been delighted to learn that Luka would accompany her, remain with her as long as deemed