Heiress Without a Cause

CHAPTER ONE

Note to readers: this is the first chapter of Heiress Without a Cause, which is the first book in the Muses of Mayfair series (currently four books as of August 2015, all of which are available on all major retailers).

The entire book is currently available on Wattpad - I hope you enjoy it, and would love to hear your comments!

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London - 6 April 1812

She stood outside her aunt's ballroom and breathed as deeply as her stays allowed. She had walked into innumerable ballrooms in the past decade, but she still felt that old excitement - that moment of speculation, wondering if tonight would miraculously distinguish itself from all the other nights that stretched behind and before her in a dull grey line. Her life had all the color of a debutante's closet. Since she would never wear the rich colors of a matron (or, better, a widow), that grey line was unlikely to change.

Chilton, her aunt's butler, ushered her through the great double doors to the ballroom. "Lady Madeleine Vaillant," he announced to the horde mingling below.

None of them turned.

They wouldn't, after all. She lived with her aunt and had been a fixture at Salford House since her parents died eighteen years earlier. Still, the contrast between tonight, at this proper ball, and the previous night, in a very different milieu, was sharp enough to hurt.

Here, in a white muslin ball gown, with her brown hair tucked into a spinster's cap, no one spared her a first glance, let alone a second.

Last night, wearing breeches and a wild, unkempt wig, everyone cheered at her feet.

She kept a vague half-smile on her face as she descended the steps into the ballroom. Aunt Augusta had trained her well, and she never displayed her disappointment when each night became just like every other. There were a few guests ahead of her on the landing, waiting to greet her aunt and her cousin Alexander Staunton, the earl of Salford. The delay ensured that her mask was firmly in place before Aunt Augusta saw her.

"Are you feeling well, dear?" her aunt asked when she finally reached them.

"Well enough, Aunt Augusta," Madeleine said, making her voice sound the tiniest bit tired. She had feigned illness for the past two weeks and planned a final relapse the following night, but she couldn't miss her aunt's opening ball of the season. She should have come down almost an hour earlier, but she used her illness as an excuse to cut the night short.

Augusta frowned. "You should retire early. No one will miss you, I'm sure."

She knew her aunt didn't mean for the words to cut like a blade, but she still winced.

Then she sternly told herself to stop being dramatic. It was just one night, like any other night. Her aunt and cousins loved her, even if the ton didn't. And her inconspicuous nature gave her the freedom to behave as she had the past two weeks - she should be grateful that she could take such a risk.

So she smiled and said in her sunniest voice, "I'm sure a ball is just what I need to recover. I feel better than I have in an age."

"Don't dress it up too much, cousin," Alex said. "When have these affairs ever improved our health?"

He grinned, a fellow prisoner to Aunt Augusta's expectations. He escaped more frequently than Madeleine, since he often chose his club over the events of the marriage mart. But if he hadn't inherited the earldom when his father died, he probably would have left London entirely.

She grinned back. "There is always a first time. Perhaps Aunt Augusta's ball will magically cure us all."

Her aunt sighed. "Do try to behave, both of you. Not that I usually have to request good behavior from you, Madeleine, but your illness seems to have addled your senses."