Finally, the day came. The Everards surpassed another storm intact, stronger than ever.

Agatha was finally cleared of all accusations against her.

There were still those who were wary, but as typical of the Everards, they did not care because scandal or not, the wedding happened just in time for the start of the Wickhurst Season.

Clarice could not attend, claiming she was not feeling well. Typical of Clarice to always play safe in such social games, Tori thought as she sat in the pew behind Lady Alice and her daughters.

Everyone else present, save for the family and those who cared for the wedding, was ogling the Everard brothers sitting opposite their mother and sisters.

One, however, was missing.

Tori turned and frowned when Levi sat beside her, pulling the sleeves of his coat down his wrists while he craned his neck, looking for—or hiding from—someone. Or everyone.

"Should you not be sitting with your brothers?" she whispered, turning her head back to the altar where the eldest of the Everards was being wed. Benedict was secretly referred to as the beast because of the scars on his face. Tori had to admit that the man could be quite intimidating, even for her. Today, however, the beast was far from terrifying because of the look in his eyes as he stared down at his bride. No one could tell how the romance between the two started, but perhaps love was indeed a mysterious thing.

"Have you not seen the flock of mothers and their daughters around us?" Levi answered under his breath, his eyes directed at the alter as well. "To stand or sit or be anywhere near my unmarried brothers, most especially now that the scandal passed, would equate to suicide."

She let out a small scoff, covering it with a fake cough when a few heads turned. Margaret, who was sitting beside Lady Alice in front, looked over her shoulder and threw her brother a scalding look.

"It was her!" Levi pointed at Tori.

"Hush!" she hissed, inching away from him.

He slid closer, as if she could shield him from everyone else. She considered sliding farther away, but Lord Forshaw was to her left and she would hate to spend the entire ceremony dizzy with the man's unique smell.

"But don't you think marriage might be good after all?" she asked him. "One look at your brother and his bride will give anyone hope."

"My, Tori, do not tell me you are thinking of announcing your betrothal soon?" he inquired, slightly turning his head to look at her from the corner of his eye.

Tori blinked. "Well, yes, as a matter of fact."

He was obviously startled by her response. "You are?"

"Yes."

"To whom?" Was it doubt or challenge she heard in his voice?

"If my stepmother wins, it will be with a man she can control and fool. If I win, it would be with someone I chose."

Levi frowned, and this time his whole body shifted and he faced her fully. Tearing her eyes off Benedict and Agatha, she stole him a look.

Tori had to be reminded once more that she was talking to the most handsome of the Everard brothers—in her opinion, of course. He was slightly larger than Benedict and while his eldest brother's face was filled with scars, his was... well, glorious.

No man ought to have such face, really. The sharp edges of his face, and those dazzling emerald eyes that seemed to always glimmer with wickedness, promised disaster. Even after many years of having been around him growing up, and even after seeing him charming his way around the Town before he disappeared from Wickhurst three years ago, Tori found herself startled and transfixed by his beauty still.

Surely, every man must think life was unfair to all but Levi Everard. He had everything—the wealth and the looks.

But he was also a reserved man. He had always been, she thought. Having been around the Everards helped Tori figure out the family's quirks. Levi Everard, in her opinion, was the most private.

Yes, Benedict may seem more mysterious, but that was only because of his scars and his icy demeanor. Another brother, Maxwell, was perhaps the most stoic, and rarely spoke, but he did not evoke the same mysterious air Tori often felt around Levi.

He was a different matter. He could fool everyone into thinking he was the most charming man around—and he truly was. But she saw how his smiles could easily wane when no one was about. He wore a mask, and it had been on him for so long that it was a part of him now, a second skin that was always at the ready whenever he needed it to smile for him.

But even if she claimed she knew him well, she did not truly know him deeply enough. No, not anymore, at the very least. They were past the age of games and tricks, of banters and teasing. He became a man and she... well, she too had changed.

Therefore, it was easy to say that somehow, along the way, their friendship had come to a pause and never truly grew with them. Tori could not help but think that she had lost a friend.

Or a part of that friend. She still considered him one. Or at least she tried to pretend he was, and that she was still as comfortable around him as she was years ago.

"And who are these grooms you are talking about?" She vaguely heard his question.

Clearing her throat, and drawing her thoughts back to the moment, Tori looked at the couple being wed and back at Levi. "The first one is still the man I do not wish to think about. The second can be anyone."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"It means I am yet to catch the man."

"What? Trap him in marriage?"

"No, manipulate him into a marriage with me."

His face contorted with disbelief. That look flashed images of the many days she spent with him and his family. He would always have that look whenever she said something, because he was always the first one to doubt her words and consider the fact that she may be jesting. Most often he would be right. "You are insane, Tori."

"Hush!" Margaret hissed at the two of them over her shoulder, but her scolding stare was directed at her older brother.

"It was her!" Levi pointed at Tori again.

This time, Lady Alice turned and gave Levi a blank stare. Tori had seen that stare too many times in the past, and had gotten her fair share of it as well, to know it was nowhere near blank.

Levi scoffed in disbelief and slid lower in his seat to avoid the attention of the guests around them.

"Either you are jesting," he whispered beside her, not willing to let the matter go, "or you are insane."

Tori lifted her shoulders. "Mayhap, yes. Insane, I mean, because I am not jesting." She looked on at Benedict Everard and Agatha Blair, both soon to share one name. The couple had been through the worst. Next was nothing but a blissful life.

Tori vowed she would have the same and her stepmother better be ready, for she was not losing this game.

***

"Are you aware of Tori's plan to find a husband?" Levi asked Margaret later at the wedding ball.

His sister's expression did not change. She was good at it. Growing up with five brothers taught her well, Levi thought. "You cannot imagine the number of ladies looking for a husband every season, brother. Tori is no exception."

He followed her gaze and joined her in watching Tori dance with a gentleman. "Who is that man?"

"Mr Rodney Walker," she said. "He owns five shops."

"And what does he sell?"

"Chocolates."

He frowned at the gentleman. "Business does not seem to be doing well then. Look at him grimace." As Margaret glared, he added, "Either that or Tori is a terrible dancer." The dance was ending, and he did not miss the look of relief from both dancers. "It must be the latter."

"What is the matter with you?" Margaret asked, now clearly irked. "You keep pestering Tori."

"I always pestered Tori, Maggie."

"When we were children, yes. And then you decided to be a gentleman and a good friend for a good number of years. But now you seem to be regressing!"

He blinked in confusion. "Maggie, I am merely jesting."

"You are mocking," she snapped. Then she turned to him and looked him up and down. "And since you are already here, why don't you ask Tori for a dance? Find out if she is a terrible dancer."

He blinked. "No, thank you. My feet are still healing after those times the two of you stepped on them while learning the waltz. And that was what—ten years ago?"

"You can simply say no, Levi," Tori's voice said.

He made a sharp turn, and his eyes locked with hers. She did not look angry. She looked stunning. In fact, her eyes seemed to be laughing in amusement as well.

"Mr Walker walked away?" he inquired.

"With his two good feet unharmed," she replied with meaning. Then her eyes traveled down to his feet. "I am sorry about your feet, my lord. I meant to cripple them, not make them suffer for years."

The laughter slowly rumbled in his chest before it eventually exploded. Without thinking, Levi lifted his fist and playfully jabbed it against Tori's arm.

"Levi!" Margaret scolded.

"What?" he laughingly asked. Then, realizing what he had done, said, "Good Lord, forgive me, Tori. I forgot you easily lose your balance."

Over Margaret's frustrated scolding, Tori laughed. Then she playfully pushed him away, gloved palm over his chest. To his surprise, he slightly stumbled back. "It is fine, my lord, I have gone quite strong over the years."

He forced out a laugh, gritted his teeth when he saw the challenge in her beautiful blue-gray eyes. Because he would not let her have the last move, he stepped closer, but Margaret slipped between them and hissed, "Stop it, the two of you. Goodness, we are no longer in the playroom!"

"Well, I can definitely say I did not start it," said Tori, nonchalantly turning away. Then she stiffened. Margaret saw what caught her friend's attention and scoffed in disbelief.

Spotting the subject of their ire, he frowned. It was Lady Clarice Ashdown, sashaying around the ballroom with her friends.

"She must have gotten word that the Everards are indeed back in the good graces of polite society," he heard Tori say under her breath.

"There you are!" a familiar voice boomed behind them. Levi turned and found his younger brother rushing toward him. "Max and Nick are looking for you. They are in the gaming rooms."

"I will follow shortly—"

Ralph stepped closer and whispered, "Mother is looking for you. She is with friends."

Their mother being with her friends meant women and their unmarried daughters or nieces. "Then we have to dash," he said to his brother and then to Margaret and Tori, "Enjoy the ball, ladies," before quickly turning around with Ralph in tow.

As he evaded the crowd, squeezing through skirts and tailcoats, Levi looked over his shoulder. Margaret and Tori were moving, their faces grim.

He shook his head. Whatever the pair was up to, he should not concern himself.

Until they did something stupid, of course, he added to himself.

***

One week in Wickhurst was enough for Levi. The most scandalous social season just started, and he did not want to prolong his stay.

He spent his last night in Wickhurst with the rest of his brothers at Grey's, drinking and playing cards, and could not remember how they all ended up in Nicholas' villa. But it was always the case, since the residence of the fourth Everard son was closest to the gentleman's club.

By morning, Levi was ready to leave. "With Benedict gone this particular season, you should stay," said Maxwell. "You are the second eldest."

"And you are the third. Therefore, in my absence, you are the eldest," he wryly replied. "You can handle the twins."

Ysabella and Emma were not really twins. Emma, the youngest, was born the same year as Ysabella. The two practically grew up together as one wicked pair. They had always been known as the twins for as long as the family could remember.

Maxwell shook his head. "Do not blame me should one of them get into trouble this season."

"They might end up on a bloody tree again," said Ralph, munching his food.

Levi turned to their youngest brother. "You watch over the twins this season."

Ralph's eyes widened. "But you just said Maxwell will do it. Why me!"

"Because you need to take responsibilities, brother," he said, throwing his napkin on the table. "Where's Nick?"

"Passed out," Ralph said, motioning his head in the direction of the parlor. "You should stay, Levi. You do not know what the two devils can do. I swear to you, they are the worst!"

"I see them every Christmas. I know they are the worst."

"But they are angels during Christmas!" Ralph motioned to Maxwell. "Maxwell can handle them."

"I have other responsibilities," said Maxwell.

"You do naught but stare into space, Max!"

"I think."

Ralph looked dumbfounded. "I do not think—"

"That is precisely why at least one of us has to think," Maxwell droned, his eyes looking bored. "Finish your meal and go home. The twins have to go to their fittings."

Ralph groaned.

Levi scoffed in amusement. At five and twenty, Ralph needed more responsibilities. The twins would be a good practice.

He stood, righting the sleeves of his shirt. When he looked up, he caught Maxwell staring at his hands. His observant brother made no comment when he looked up and met Levi's gaze. "Safe trip, brother. I heard bandit attacks are higher this season."

Levi nodded and as he passed Ralph, slapped the man's shoulder. "Take care of the twins. For now, no scandal for you, Ralph. Nothing like the one two years ago. Focus on the sisters."

"It was not even true! Gossip, that's all it was!"

Levi walked out of the room and poked his head into the parlor to check on his other brother. Nicholas was on the chaise, sleeping with half of his body about to fall on the floor. As he rushed to the front doors, he heard Ralph still talking. "This is too bloody unfair. They have five brothers. Why does it have to be me?"

"Shut up," he heard Maxwell reprimand.

Later, inside his carriage, he looked out into the busy streets of Wickhurst.

He did not know why Victoria Ashdown's face flashed in his mind. At the wedding, she seemed determined to find a match this Wickhurst Season.

Going by her choice of dance partners, he was doubtful of her success.

Even so, he wondered if he would find a married Victoria Ashdown the next time he returned to Wickhurst.