Chapter One

Jules Thompson’s family had clearly run mad. The whole idea of the Marquess’s visit was ridiculous. Jules would not be surprised if her father had dreamed up the whole thing entirely in his head and there was no carriage on its way at all.

“You do not realize how fortunate you are,” said Aunt Rosemary. She sat in an armchair by the fire, glaring at her needlework as though it was responsible for Jules’s lack of enthusiasm over this imaginary visit. She had pointed out her niece’s good fortune fifteen times that day already. Jules had kept count.

“She will do all she can,” Jules’s mother chimed in as she moved around the room, adjusting flower-embroidered cushions. “Won’t you, dear?”

It was not really a question.

“Of course, Mama.” Jules was still moving about the Christmas tree, hanging her handmade stars. Not that it would matter.

If Lord William Morton, Marquess of Bexley, first son and heir of the Duke of Highgarden, was actually visiting their country estate to propose to her… No, she couldn’t even finish the thought.

It was absolutely unthinkable that such a man would consider proposing to the daughter of an unconnected and near-impoverished baron from the edge of Staffordshire.

Just two weeks earlier, her father had received an intriguing letter, written on heavy gilt-edged parchment and sealed with gold wax. He had nearly bounced out of his chair on reading it. Since that day her father had talked non-stop about the Duke of Highgarden as if they were old friends. It was a name Jules could not remember being spoken by either of her parents before that day.

Now, with just four days till Christmas, Jules was hanging handmade stars on a tree in their drawing room while everyone waited impatiently for the magnificent Marquess of Bexley to arrive and save them all.

Ridiculous.

“Remember you must wear the dark-blue velvet for dinner this evening,” Jules’s mother said as she took a seat opposite her sister-in-law, glancing nervously out the windows and poking at her own embroidery. “You know it compliments your eyes.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Jules replied. The blue velvet gown. Yet another item discussed more times than was necessary. “I shall do just that.”

“I still say the lavender would do better,” said Aunt Rosemary. “It’s much closer to the current fashions.”

Jules’s father moved to stand behind his wife, staring into the fire beside them as he laid a hand on her shoulder and patted reassuringly.

Of course Jules had agreed to be open to the Marquess’s proposal, if it should miraculously eventuate. It was easy to agree to something she knew was never going to happen anyway. She had also prepared their home for his arrival, if only to appease her family.

All her efforts over the last two weeks had seen their home turned into the perfect courtship setting. The worst of the drawing room’s plaster cracks and peeling yellow wallpaper could hardly be seen behind the abundance of Christmas greenery. Pine and holly were tied with ribbons along great swathes of green fabric hung along the walls. Fabric that belonged to a set of long retired curtains Jules had found in the attic. Two lengths even swooped high across the room between opposite walls, a wreath of mistletoe dangling from one.

Then there was the grand masterpiece; an enormous pine tree, brought in that morning on her father’s orders.

It was hard not to think of the disappointment her family would feel when it turned out Lord Bexley had only used Hillview Manor as a convenient stopover on his journey home.

Jules picked up another paper star, grateful the decorations were close to finished. She refused to be the one blamed when Lord Bexley left their home unbetrothed, so the arrangements must be perfect.

Her younger siblings had chosen today of all days to behave like perfect little angels. Normally their mischief kept either her aunt or mother occupied, but not today. Today Peter and Abigail helped with the decorations and played tag as they took turns checking for the Marquess’ carriage, leaving the two women free to grate at Jules’s nerves.

“More, more, more!” Peter shook the last box of paper stars.

“Yes, yes,” said Jules, his enthusiasm finally bringing a smile to her face. “Put them where you’d like, just don’t touch the ladder.”

Abigail’s decorations were already attached to the tree, and she’d skipped off to check for the carriage again.

Jules shook her head as she gazed up at the pine tree that dominated their drawing room. The top came close to brushing the room’s twelve-foot ceiling. Her mother had objected profusely, but her father insisted, and here it was.

It did look festively beautiful though. Along with the rest of the greenery in the house, it now felt like she was standing in a pine-scented garden rather than their drawing room. At least the setting was perfect for this imaginary courtship.

She picked up the next-to-last box of ornaments and smiled at the familiar trademark embossed on the lid. She opened it and ran a finger over the four delicate blown-glass angels inside, feeling the feathers etched with gold into their wings and the smooth billowy skirts. Her grandmother had loved unwrapping them each year as she told the story of her first Christmas in London. Jules’s grandfather had bought them at a tiny glassmaker’s shop hidden away in a corner of Chelsea, where they had spent their first Christmas together.

Jules closed her eyes, trying to imagine the smell of Grandma’s favorite gingerbread biscuits and feel the warmth of her hugs. She had always been so full of love…

Available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited November 6th 2026