Romancing Lady Cecily @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } ROMANCING LADY CECILYAshley MarchNew American LibraryNew American LibraryPublished by New American Library, a division ofPenguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USAPenguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, EnglandPenguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, IndiaPenguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South AfricaPenguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, EnglandPublished by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.First New American Library E-Book Printing, August 2011Copyright © Ashley Henderson, 2011All rights reservedNEW AMERICAN LIBRARY and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.ISBN: 978-0-451-53339-0Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.PUBLISHER’S NOTEThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this e-book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.Chapter 1London, April 1849Cecily kept her head lowered as she walked, the rain washing down her face and soothing her fevered cheeks. Another sob erupted from her lips, refusing to be contained. Releasing her skirts to wrap her arms around her waist, she huddled into herself as though she might become small enough for the pain to disappear.�śMilady,” the footman called behind her. For a moment his umbrella hovered overhead, creating a gray curtain of rain, a numbing deafness of sound as it drummed above her. Cecily increased her pace until the rain poured over her head�"streaming past her neck and beneath her collar, soaking the lilac muslin day dress. Her petticoats dragged against her legs, slowing her steps.Today she would not be cosseted or protected; today she couldn’t bear to act content to remain wrapped inside her tidy box of pampered indulgences and practiced sophistication.The storm slung thick locks of hair across her face. It pelted freezing water against her skin, little stinging pins which slapped at her forehead, her cheeks, the hands she raised to peel the wet strands away from her eyes. She slogged forward, grateful for the cold, the wet, the physical misery that�"for a short while at least�"subdued the aching devastation of her heart.When again a shelter formed overhead, Cecily bit her lip to suppress the cry rising in her throat and whirled around to face her servant. She blinked through blurred eyes, focusing first on the black gloved hand holding the umbrella at her shoulder, then the sight of her servant three feet away, tucking a coin into his pocket. The footman met her gaze and lifted a brow. It wasn’t the first time he’d been bribed to leave her side, yet he never departed without her acquiescence.Cecily inclined her head.As he turned and marched off, heels splashing water with each step, the umbrella above her head lifted higher. Cecily forced her gaze from the blue waistcoat threaded with silver to the black cravat above, then finally to the face of the man she most dreaded to see. Baron Sedgwick.She jerked away, angling her chin so he wouldn’t be able to see the tears slipping hotly from beneath her lashes.A finger touched her chin, a slight caress made all the more sensual in its brevity. �śWhy are you crying?”�śWhy are you here?” she returned, her voice slashing wildly, disguising her grief with anger. He always seemed to prowl on her weaknesses, always glimpsed the vulnerability she tried to keep hidden from others. But she didn’t know if she had the strength to push him away today, nor the will to battle wits with him.He gave a low chuckle, the sound slipping beneath the drum of the rain and seeping into her bones. It spread beneath her skin and ran through her blood, a comfort she’d rather have refused. �śDear kitten, I’m always here.”Yes, he was here. And Angela was gone.It was an uncharitable thought to have, to wish for him to be dead instead, and one she immediately regretted. She didn’t want him to die, but neither did she welcome this continual craving to crawl inside his coat and bury herself against him. Even now she desired him when she shouldn’t, when she wanted to surrender everything in grief for the loss of her closest friend.Cecily blinked the wetness from her lashes and met his eyes, black pools which haunted her dreams, though she would have far preferred them in her nightmares. �śLeave me be,” she said, but her voice hitched in the middle and the last syllable ended with a whimper. She dropped her chin to her chest, her limbs shuddering from her attempt to not wail before him.�śMy carriage is around the corner, away from prying eyes.” His voice was clipped, as if he disapproved of her show of emotion. His fingers�"those which possessed such damning knowledge of the texture of her skin, the best paths to travel to elicit her sighs�"they wrapped around her wrist and lifted her arm. The heat from his gloved touch enlivened every nerve just as the rain and cold had begun to numb her pain with a new sort of wretchedness. She hated him for it, for making her feel again.He pressed the handle of the umbrella into her hand. �śI’ll walk ahead first. As soon as you see me round the corner, start following.” He paused, his thumb stroking idly across the ridges of her knuckles. �śAnd Cecily?”She gripped the umbrella so tightly it shook. Raising her head, she glared at him. �śYes?”A narrow smile eased the warning in his voice. �śShould more than two minutes pass before you come, know that I’ll return and carry you, your betrothal and your reputation be damned.”He strode away. While Cecily’s mind might have fantasized about rebelling, her feet obeyed him. They didn’t turn in the opposite direction and run after her servant but headed straight toward her downfall. The rain quieted to a patter above and her sobs grew in strength and frequency until, when she reached his carriage, they’d broken through the lump in her throat and issued forth in fractured, keening moans.He reached through the open door and pulled her inside, leaving the umbrella to clatter from her hand to the street below. The door closed and he gathered her onto his lap.�śI’m sorry,” she whispered, burying her head in his neck and clutching at his shoulders. He pulled her away and framed her face between his palms. The leather now lay cool against her flushed cheeks.�śI won’t tell you not to cry,” he murmured. �śI’m entirely too selfish for that. Cry, my little kitten, and let me kiss away your tears.”Cecily shook her head and swallowed, fighting the inclination to give in to him, despising how quickly she allowed him to sweep aside her resistance. No musician could have played an instrument better. His voice was like a song of seduction to her senses, the husky invitation of a violin sliding beneath her well-guarded defenses.�śMy darling,” he whispered, and his mouth slid along the crest of her cheek. As if called by his touch, the tears brimming in her eyes overflowed, chasing the path of his kiss.�śYes, that’s it.” He gathered her closer, his arms about her tight, almost crushing. She should have felt suffocated. Or restricted. Perhaps instead comforted by the strength in his arms. But as his lips traced over her face, catching every tear as it fell from her eyes, pulling the moisture to the corner of her mouth and pressing against her lips, her sobs turned to gasps of pleasure. She clutched him frantically, holding him even more tightly than he held her.She could not escape him, his ability to turn any thought toward him, any emotion into longing. Her closest friend was not yet dead an entire day, and here she was, panting in his arms.No. No.Cecily stiffened, preparing to push herself away. But before she could lift her hands from his shoulders he released her, so suddenly that she almost fell to the floor of the carriage�"and would have, if not for the light, innocently polite pressure of his fingertips at her back.He was black and white before her. His eyes shadowed, discreet pools; his skin pale in contrast; his coal dark hair and the white blade of his smile quickening her breath while the deceptively simple stroke of his fingers branded her as his over and over again. �śYou must tell me if you feel inclined to cry in the future. I will be more than glad to support you in your time of need.”A mockery. He mocked her grief. And the fact that her body yearned to lean into his, that her lips throbbed with greed in wanting him to devour her again, was even more humiliating.Cecily whipped her head aside and cast her eyes to the floor. She stared at the water collecting beneath the hem of her dress, then spreading in a thin trickle toward the soles of his boots. She hoped it ruined them. Everything she touched�"his trousers and woolen jacket, his waistcoat and the cravat which she’d savaged in her desperation to get near him�"she hoped all of it would be ruined.She attempted to climb off of his lap, but he held her fast with no more than the points of his fingertips at her back and the flat of his palm over her thigh. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his mouth against the crook of her neck. The fingers at her back were replaced by the iron strength of his arm, the hand at her thigh trailing a sensuous path up her waist, over her stomach, pausing to cup her breast. Never enough to satisfy; only to tantalize.�śCecily.” She shivered when he spoke her name, the heated stroke of his breath against her throat stirring lust and want and every unspeakable sensation she’d prefer to ignore. How many times had she told herself she would no longer be moved by him�"by his voice, his gaze, his touch� .� .� . his kiss? He had no right to intimacy with her. And she had no right to give it to him.When she tried to turn her head away again, his hand left her breast and touched gently at her chin, drawing her gaze back toward his. �śWhy are you crying, kitten?”She closed her eyes. At the moment she wasn’t strong enough to resist the entrancing pull of his gaze, those black eyes which insinuated with one glance every dark and terribly delicious thing they could do together.�śShall I force you to tell me, then?” he asked, the words murmured low, rough like velvet, causing a flush to rise to her skin.�śNo. You shouldn’t have asked me to come. It was a mistake to follow you.”�śPerhaps. But it’s always a mistake to follow me, isn’t it? What would your betrothed think, I wonder? Surely you haven’t mentioned in your letters how you allowed me to lie you down in the grass and raise your skirts to your thighs, or how you begged me to kiss your�"”She covered his mouth with her hand, ignoring the way her fingers trembled against his lips. �śI am well aware of my faults, my lord. I would ask you to release me now. Let me leave.”His mouth moved beneath her palm, forming the shape of a kiss against her flesh. Cecily’s pulse leapt as she remembered the last time she’d tried to keep him from speaking, from employing his voice and words to seduce her. She hadn’t succeeded very well then, either.But this time he lowered his arms to his sides and leaned away, against the soft-as-butter leather squabs at his back. It had been more than a month ago, and yet still she couldn’t forget the supple caress of the seat against her bare skin in contrast to the rough abrasion of his jaw along her inner thigh. �śYou may leave,” he said, gesturing grandly toward the carriage door. �śHurry now, before your servant returns home and your family begins to question your whereabouts.”Cecily narrowed her eyes at the obvious taunt. They both knew the footman had turned in the opposite direction of her house when he’d left her with the baron.Still, grateful for the reprieve, she lifted herself from his lap and reached for the handle. It twisted easily beneath her hand and she pushed, the door giving way until a spatter of raindrops fell in the space between.He said nothing, but she could feel his stare. Watching her, waiting as he always did. As if hoping that one day she might do something to surprise him. And oh, how she longed to surprise him, if only to comfort herself with the knowledge that he didn’t know her as well as he assumed he did.He expected her to run away, but she wouldn’t. Not today, at least. Cecily held herself still as she crouched beneath the carriage ceiling, gripping the handle, her head and face sluiced by the rain. She counted for ten seconds. Long, interminable seconds, an eternity’s passage of time. Anticipating an unknown answer, hoping he might give in first and demonstrate a similar weakness for her.At twenty seconds, she wished him to hell.When she reached thirty-seven seconds his hands gripped her waist. He gave a low curse, and then he was pulling her back, reaching around her to shut the door. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap again, then lifted his fist to knock against the roof and signal the driver.The carriage began to move. Cecily’s eyes were swollen, her nose likely red and her cheeks pale from the cold. But for the first time since she’d heard the news of Angela’s death, she smiled when his eyes met hers.�śYou think you’ve won, don’t you?” he asked, his gaze trailing down to her lips, then lower still to where her bodice lay plastered against her breasts. �śI wish you could see yourself. Your cheeks flushed with triumph, your eyes shining in victory. But what you don’t realize, my dear, is that I was prepared to let you walk away. I would have let you go. I wouldn’t have followed you, and I wouldn’t have called you back. Do you know why, Cecily?”She forced her lips to remain curved. �śWhy?” she asked, whispering lest he hear the truth she denied to both of them.�śBecause you always return to me.” He tilted his head, his lashes lowering to where his fingers played with hers, his large, black-gloved hand appearing even more wicked and erotic against the backdrop of her delicate white one. �śEven now you did not wish to leave, rather waited for me to insist that you stay. It appears, my darling, that despite all of your words to the contrary, you have actually begun to develop a tendre for me.” His lashes lifted, his onyx eyes stifling the breath in her throat.Cecily swallowed and shook her head. A stream of water trickled from her temple down her cheek. �śNo.”�śNo? Then perhaps it is something different, something entirely separate from mere romantic sentiments. Perhaps it is this.” He disentangled his hand from hers and followed the path of water with his finger, caressing her jaw before slipping below to her throat, down the slope of her chest and halting at the line of her bodice. He teased her, the pressure of his touch feather-light as he stroked back and forth across the swell of her breasts. She closed her eyes and arched against him.She heard the swift intake of his breath, the satisfied sigh which followed. �śAh, Cecily,” he murmured low in her ear, his voice filled with dark amusement. No doubt he smiled as well, pleased to make such a fanfare of her weakness. The cool slide of leather moved upward, pausing over the frantic thrum of her heart. �śIs it me for whom your heart quickens?”His other hand reached below, to the sodden hem of her dress. Cecily moaned, then bit her lip, her legs quivering as she imagined the next path his fingers would take. �śIs this why you stayed? Is this why you continue returning to me?” One damp stocking rolled to her ankle.She couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe, convinced that the barest touch from him now would send her flying apart, helpless in his arms.�śAnswer me, Cecily. Is this what you wanted?”She waited, a wordless plea that he would continue without her response. The rain pattered ceaselessly against the roof, the slosh of the wheels and stomp of the horses’ hooves louder for the silence within the carriage. She sensed his stare on her, a presence which evoked the same impulse to surrender as the sensual drag of his lips across her skin. Her memories were slaves to him, tormenting her with the knowledge of the pleasure he could give her if only she answered as he wished.Minutes passed. A quiet expectation weighted the air between them, the substance of her desire a tangible, relentless compulsion, more inevitable even than the draw of oxygen into her lungs. It was cruel of him to force her to say the words, when he knew that someday she must deny him and instead turn to another.Still, when his hands fell away and he began to withdraw she panicked. She caught his arm, pressed his palm over her heart once again. �śYes,” she whispered, meeting his black gaze, blushing at the dark promises within. �śThis is why I stayed.”And God help her, because when the day of her wedding finally came, she didn’t know if she would be able to find the strength to leave.Chapter 2The rain hadn’t stopped when Cecily arrived home. She carried it in with her, trailing water over the threshold and into the grand foyer. The footman at the door raised a brow at her sodden appearance but said nothing, as though accustomed to her odd entrances. Cecily feared that her time with Baron Sedgwick was beginning to result in changes of her character�"for better or worse, she had yet to determine.As if inspired by the mere thought of his name, her heart tripped unsteadily inside her chest, setting her pulse to vibrating throughout her entire body. Even when he wasn’t present, he controlled her just as surely as a clock’s pendulum controlled its hands.In her bedchamber, Cecily raised her arms, bent her head, and lifted her feet all at her maid’s commands. The drenched dress, petticoats, and even the soaked chemise were soon discarded, replaced by a velvet robe which seemed to have been heating before the fire, waiting for her return.�śHis lordship asked that you join him and her ladyship in the sitting room as soon as you’re able, my lady,” her maid told her as she gathered Cecily’s wet garments into her arms.At once, the pleasant remnants of being surrounded by the baron’s arms folded beneath the terrifying thought that her parents might have taken greater notice than usual at her prolonged absence.Cecily smoothed her palms over the edges of the robe as she twisted her head and stared into the fire. �śYes, of course. The yellow silk, then, with the lace edges.” A dress to enhance her youthfulness, her innocence. Only Sedgwick knew that he’d turned her into a corrupt and wanton creature, witless with her need for him.Being made to step out of her fur robe was nothing short of an act of cruelty, and Cecily shivered at the bite of the air, the crisp April wind slipping through the window casements to nip at her skin. But soon she was dressed, coiffed, and primped as befitting the daughter of an earl.No one would ever suspect the extent of the emptiness inside, the space the baron had gradually carved inside her soul. It taunted her, tested her, left her craving his presence. Had Angela’s lover made her feel the same? Had she also tried to ignore his attentions and quench the passion between them, to no avail?Angela.Without the sensual distraction the baron provided, the swell of grief Cecily had suppressed rose high again. She swallowed it with a smile as she entered the sitting room.�śFather. Mother.” She greeted each with a kiss to the cheek. Her father nodded and brushed down the hairs of his side-whiskers. A nervous gesture, one she’d mimicked as a child, when she wished that she, too, had whiskers. Her mother murmured something soft, her voice as soothing as the ritual of watching her steady hands pour their tea every afternoon.But Cecily couldn’t understand her, not above the furious tattoo of her pulse, roaring in her ears. Every movement they made, each syllable formed upon their lips, seemed slow and deliberate, increasing her fear that they’d finally discovered her trysts with a man who not only wasn’t her betrothed, but one who trod on the good graces of Society simply because it amused him.�śCecily, dear.” Her father cleared his throat and gestured to the seat at her mother’s side. �śSit down.”Yes, she should be terrified, ill with the thought of disappointing the parents who had never been anything but loving and indulgent of her. Yet she found herself nearly giddy with relief that everything would soon be revealed. No more hiding. No more secrets. Perhaps if her meetings with Baron Sedgwick became known, he wouldn’t seem as mysterious or devastatingly wicked anymore. No, he would be harmless. And she�"Cecily prayed fervently�"perhaps she would finally be set free from the net he’d cast over her. She could return to being the sensible woman she’d always been, one who would have never before considered running away as Angela had.Her mother passed Cecily her embroidery hoop. The earl paced to the window and back again, stroking his whiskers. At length, just as Cecily had looped the thread into her needle, he pivoted on his heel and announced, �śWe’ve received a letter from your betrothed. It came while you were away at the shops.”This proclamation in itself wasn’t very exciting, nor was the guilt which rushed through Cecily in its wake. Her fiancé wrote regularly, at least twice a month. Notes to her father, with whom he made investments, and short little notes to Cecily herself. They were private pieces which Cecily suspected her father read beforehand, letters which never went beyond anything more than well wishes for her health. Once there had been a stray sentence mentioning how he looked forward to being together as husband and wife one day. But that had been all. Nothing amusing or interesting, nothing to arouse her passion or her imagination as the baron was so skilled at doing.No, the announcement that they’d received a letter from her betrothed wasn’t newsworthy. It was her father’s agitation, evidenced by his quick, jerky movements and the uncontrolled modulation of his voice, which caused Cecily to curl her hands. The needle in her grip pricked her thumb, but she didn’t flinch.�śOh?” she said, smiling. �śAnd what did my dear fiancé write to us this time?”�śYou are to be married within a week.”The smile on her face felt like a broken hinge, the only thing supporting the structure of her composure; if she were to let it slip even a little, a possibility existed that the mild-mannered, predictable daughter they believed her to be would disappear entirely. �śA week,” she echoed, still smiling. �śBut the banns�"”�śHe’s arranged for a special license.”Of course he had.�śBut� .� .� .” Cecily laid her embroidery upon her lap, clasped her hands together. �śBut he’s delayed the wedding for over two years. Why is he suddenly insistent, and why so soon, and�"” Her chin lifted, her voice becoming more strident. �śWhat if I no longer wish to marry him?”�śCecily,” her mother admonished gently beside her. �śYou gave your word. Your father gave his word.”�śI’ve changed my mind,” she said, rising to her feet. The embroidery fell away, unheeded to the floor.Her father frowned. �śMy dear girl, you must marry him. It is a matter of honor. The investments he’s made�"”�śThey are only investments, yes? Surely you can repay him for what he’s given to the company.” Cecily spread her arms wide, encompassing the wealth of the sitting room. The plush Persian rugs, the antique Elizabethan, Jacobean, and Queen Anne pieces. �śSurely we have enough, surely the company can�"”�śNo. We can’t. You don’t understand.”�śI’m sorry, Father. Mother. But�"”�śGod’s teeth, Cecily, he is the company!”Cecily stared at her father’s wide, wild eyes. His breath wheezed in and out with each movement of his chest. She shifted her gaze to her mother, but the countess looked down at her embroidery, her hands knotted, her face pale.�śShortly after the initial investments were made, some very unfortunate events occurred. Everything was lost. Not only our wealth, but that of my friends and acquaintances who had trusted me. I�"” Her father reached up, wiped his brow. �śI don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t approached me.”Cecily narrowed her eyes. �śHow did he know of your misfortune?”�śRumors had begun to circulate. I tried to quash them while I searched for loans, but it was useless. He offered to invest all of the money I had lost and much more. He shared his wealth with me, and in return�"”�śYou sold me.”�śYou agreed to the marriage,” her father was quick to assure her.�śBecause it was what you wanted! But did I really have a choice? If I had said no, would you have refused him?”Her father’s expression twisted, his dull blue gaze seeking escape from hers. �śNo. He only wanted you.”Cecily sank to her chair and put her face in her hands. The letters she’d received from him�"each and every one was so distant and courteous. The words of a gentleman, though ruthless he might be. When she read his letters she felt cold, detached�"whereas the baron aroused every manner of feeling within her breast. The baron, whom she’d resisted falling in love with, with whom she’d experienced every pleasure but that which was reserved between man and wife, secretly hoping that the day of her arranged marriage would never come and she might marry him instead.�śWhat is his name?” she asked, a muffled question into her hands.�śYou know he wished to remain anonymous. He made it very clear that you not discover his identity until your wedding.”�śWhich is now to be within a week, is it not? Am I to meet my bridegroom without knowing his name? Do I not deserve that at least, Father?”Her father gave her an odd smile. �śI told him you were a good girl, that you wouldn’t push to know it. But he was sure you would. Somehow he knew you would.”Cecily laughed. �śHe knows me well, does he? Or at least he believes so.”�śAugust. That’s the name he told me to give to you.”�śBut not his true name?”Her father glanced away.�śDo I know him, then? Have I met him before? Have I danced with him in between his travels overseas?”�śEnough. I can’t tell you any more. He made me swear to secrecy.”�śI am your daughter!”Her father stepped forward and cupped her shoulders, angled his head to bend toward hers. �śAnd you are precious to me beyond life itself. If I did not believe he would treat you well, that he did not have the highest regard for you, no amount of money offered would have persuaded me to give him your hand.”�śBut you did.”�śI did.” His hands lifted from her shoulders. �śHe has given us much, and we have made an arrangement for your marriage in turn. It is something you will abide by, is it not?”A cloak of despair, hot and heavy�"was this how Angela felt before she ran away with her lover?�"fell over her. Duty. Honor. These were the words of the world to which she belonged. Not passion. Not choice. Her wedding�"the inevitable which she’d been preparing for over the past two years, the day she’d hoped would never come�"was here. She’d been correct in keeping at least a small part of herself from the baron. If only she could remove all the other pieces she’d so easily surrendered to him.Cecily lifted her chin and attempted another smile. She and Angela had both known the lives that had been planned for them, had both happily accepted their futures. But the parallel between them had ended last night when Angela had deserted her husband and child. Unlike Angela, she would not change course. She would not disappoint those who mattered the most to her.�śYes, of course,” she said. �śI shall marry as you wish, Father.”When she returned to her bedchamber it was to find a bouquet of white lilies held in her maid’s hands. �śThese just arrived, my lady.” Her arm extended, a small white envelope tucked between her fingers. �śAnd a note�"”Cecily tore it open when she recognized the familiar script. Unlike her fiancé’s, the baron’s handwriting lay thick and sloped across the parchment, even the curves of each letter’s lines seductive.My dearest Lady Cecily,I grieve for your loss at the passing of your dear friend Lady Wriothesly.You have my deepest sympathies.S�"He must have made inquiries immediately after she left his carriage. His concern had been sincere. Cecily clutched the note and sank to her knees, the tears rising once more.The carriage door opened, revealing the exterior of Lady Mayberry’s town house in all of its bedecked glory. Cecily might have been able to send her regrets to every other ball, soiree, afternoon tea and dinner party that week, but no one missed Lady Mayberry’s annual ball. Even when Cecily had tried to convince her mother she shouldn’t go�"not only because of her impending nuptials but also because she still wanted to wear mourning for Angela�"her mother simply patted her arm and instructed Cecily’s maid to find the violet gown they’d bought specifically for the Mayberry ball at the beginning of the Season.The groom appeared in the space before the door, folding out the steps and waiting expectantly. Her father cleared his throat. Cecily startled and turned her head. In the darkness, she could only see a slice of his whiskered cheek by the stripe of light from the lamps at the front of the Mayberry residence. �śTime to go,” he said.�śOf course.” Reaching forward, she allowed the groom to take her hand as she descended from the carriage. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders and stared at the town house while the earl and countess stepped down as well. The mansion was ablaze, every window lit from within. Streams of people thronged toward the door from the other carriages in line, their laughter and gaiety disquieting when the entire past week had been spent in nothing but tears.Tears for Angela, and thoughts of the Baron Sedgwick.It would be the cruelest turn of fate to face him again now, knowing she must soon belong to another in all regards. And because fate seemed to have no particular fondness for her, she knew he would be here. His presence would taunt her with her own weakness, the realization that she would never be able to forget him no matter how she tried. He was a curse, the only person who could have ever swayed her into defying her parents and running from the obligation of her arranged marriage. His eyes, his lips, the touch of his hands�"how seductive memories of him were when she lay in bed at night, contemplating the realization that in only a few days she would lay beneath another man.She’d never condoned Angela’s plan to escape with her lover. Yes, she was glad to see her friend happy, but she’d refused to assist Angela in her preparations. They were proper ladies, the crème of the ton, respected and admired by matrons and debutantes alike. Neither of them was supposed to be the kind of woman who jaunted off to the Continent, leaving an ocean-sized scandal in her wake.Yet with each passing day that Cecily spent preparing for the wedding and shopping for the final pieces in her trousseau, and with each passing night recalling with fevered clarity the feeling of wholeness when the baron’s lips met hers, the fantasy of escaping England with her own lover became something she indulged in far too often. And though she tried to content herself with the knowledge that she was right in marrying the stranger her father had chosen, she couldn’t help remembering the overwhelming joy on Angela’s face the day she’d told Cecily of her plans to be with the man she loved.A hand touched her wrist and slid down to give her fingers a comforting squeeze. Cecily smiled at her mother and began the walk at her parents’ side toward the town house. They quickly converged with the other guests, all timely in their appearance�"no one dared to arrive late to Lady Mayberry’s ball. Although she had the urge to crane her neck and look around for the baron, Cecily resisted. So many times she’d tried to guess if he was in the vicinity simply by evaluating any changes in her breath or any other physical reaction, but it became a pointless gesture; just the thought of the baron created a visceral response as if he’d stroked her from one end to the other.�śIs it true?” someone asked in delight beside her.Cecily recognized her friend’s voice and glanced over at Eleanor, the daughter of the Viscount Morgan. Tall, blond, and slender, people had often commented on how similar she and Angela had appeared.�śYes, I shall be a married woman this Friday,” Cecily said, sending a glance toward her mother. As much as Cecily loved her, the countess’ tongue for gossip was rivaled by only a few.�śBut who is he?” Eleanor bent her head to whisper in Cecily’s ear. �śIs he a Spaniard? Surely not a Frenchman!”�śNo, no. Nothing so exotic or terrible, I’m afraid. Just another Englishman. And�"” Cecily raised her hand to forestall the next question. �ś�"you shall learn his identity at the same time as everyone else.”Thank God her parents had decided it best to keep her future husband’s name a secret from the ton. Although it created quite a stir and several jests over the past two years when the wedding had been delayed time and time again, no one realized that even Cecily didn’t know his name. It was also effective in turning away prospective suitors who might otherwise have pursued her hand and created an awkward situation. The only man who had dared to approach her since the news of her betrothal had been the baron, and he’d simply laughed when she first made certain to mention her engagement to him.�śI want much more than your name bound to mine,” he murmured darkly in her ear. �śI will have all of you, Lady Cecily, every hair, every breath, every heartbeat� .� .� . and every moan.”�śYou are such a tease,” Eleanor humphed, then squealed as she caught sight of someone else and hurried off. Cecily wanted to call her back. She should demand to know how the other woman could act so happy when Angela had died not even a fortnight ago. She’d seen Eleanor sobbing at the funeral, leaning on Lord Grayhurst for support. Had her tears dried so easily, then? Had it been easy to put away the memory of Angela and don such a convincing mask of happiness and frivolity?Carried along by the crowd, Cecily was swept past the front door and up the stairs to the entrance of the ballroom. Everyone quieted and formed an orderly queue as they strained to hear the announcements made of those before them.�śHis Lordship the Earl of Marwick, Her Ladyship the Countess of Marwick, and Lady Cecily Bishop,” the butler read from their invitation. Cecily assumed the proper smile and followed behind her parents as they greeted their hostess.For the next hour she danced. Quadrilles, reels, and even a waltz or two. Even if the eligible men no longer sought her out as a potential bride, bachelors and married men alike still seemed to enjoy a partner with a pretty face. She counted everything. The number of dances, the number of people whom she spoke with, the glasses of punch she consumed. Twelve potted plants and six columns for couples to use when engaging in private conversations. Two terrace doors, three violinists, and one feathered hairpiece set atop the white head of the very eccentric Lady Abernathy. Unfortunately, she lost count of the number of times she smiled. There were far too many of those, prominent displays for all the world to see, when all she wanted to do was return home and crawl into her bed where she could simultaneously forget about Angela’s death and her upcoming marriage by dreaming about the Baron Sedgwick.The baron, who was nowhere to be found among the fourteen dark-headed men nearby, nor was he among the seven she’d counted tonight with similar broad shoulders or the two who, for a moment, made her smiles turn genuine with their well-pointed jests.But then he was there, standing before her with another glass of punch in his hand. And he was the only one she’d seen that night with black eyes, the only man who’d made her heart turn over as a result of his devastating smile.�śGood evening, Lady Cecily,” he greeted. The meandering path of his gaze brought to mind the first time he’d seen her nude, when they’d escaped from the Carlisles’ musicale into the conservatory where he’d helped her to strip bare and then ordered her to touch herself while he watched. It was also the first time she’d realized that he meant to be her lover in all but the final act between a husband and wife.Cecily sucked in a breath, saw how his pupils flared in response. Like musical instruments they were, each taking turns to play the bow upon the strings to elicit a reaction from the other. Pleased, she breathed deeply again, her breasts pushing against the bodice of her gown.Slowly the baron’s lashes lifted to her face. He smiled and moved his outstretched arm. �śRefreshment, my lady? You appear quite flushed.”�śNo, thank you.” Cecily licked her lips, almost heady with knowledge of the sensual power she held over him. Every encounter was like this, an exploration of her own femininity while he stroked and pulled and tugged at her seams.He inclined his head and handed the glass off to a passing servant. �śShall we dance then?” He moved in closer, his black eyes steady on hers. Though conversations continued around them, though someone’s skirts pressed against hers to her right, only he remained in focus, drawing her to him. The heavy sensation of blood running thickly through her veins. The shortening of her breath. The inevitable way she leaned in to place her hand in� .� .� .�śNo,” she gasped, jerking her hand back to her side. �śNo dancing. I’ve promised the next set to Mr. Bell.”�śI don’t think Mr. Bell would mind if I dance with you instead,” he said. �śNor do I think you would particularly care.”�śWe mustn’t. I�"” And here it was. The time she’d been dreading, the time when she would have to reveal that her future husband�"August�"had written to say they would be married in two days and she shouldn’t be with him ever again. To dance with him was only inviting torment on her part and likely scandal if the other guests saw the longing on her face she tried but surely failed to hide.But as she hesitated, he placed her hand over his arm and led her on to the dance floor. He kept the proper distance between them as they walked, even when he turned toward her and placed his hands�"one at her waist, the other covering hers. As the music began and he led her in the first turn of the waltz, his stiff arm and posture kept her a safe distance away.Still, the very air between them hummed. When she looked into his face, she saw that he, too, could feel it, this inescapable need between them. Oh, but he wasn’t simply feeling it. He had created it, and seemed to enjoy himself as he watched her fight against her desires to uphold her reputation in front of the others.�śWhy did you not want to dance with me, Cecily?” he asked. His voice was too low to carry to the other dancers, and the thumb attached to the hand at her waist slid briefly up, then down. A private seduction, here in the middle of Lady Mayberry’s ballroom. �śCould it have anything to do with the rumors I’ve been hearing for the past week and a half?”Her throat went dry. �śYou’ve heard?” All this time she’d thought she hadn’t seen him because she’d made an effort to make herself unavailable. But could it be that he’d learned of her wedding and instead had kept himself away from her?�śIt seems your erstwhile fiancé has finally become decisive about the date he plans to marry you. Shall I give you my felicitations now, or wait until later?”Cecily glanced away, over his shoulder. She tried to ignore the suggestion in that one word. Still, its echo slithered in her mind, beckoning to her. She returned her gaze to his. �śLater?”He smiled, as if in approval of her capitulation. �śWhen I steal you away and you agree to marry me instead.”Cecily laughed. When his grip on her hand tightened and he narrowed his eyes, she flung back her head and laughed again, the light and fluff of a lady’s amusement. Else she would have cried, knowing that no matter whether he jested or was entirely serious, her duty and her family’s obligation required her to marry a man she’d only yet met in letters. �śI wonder, my lord,” she said, tilting her head. �śWhat great confidence you must have, to believe that I would so readily agree.”�śIndeed.” He answered her smile with an idle one of his own and studied her as they turned again. Then his gaze shifted to their joined hands. With a lift of his brow, he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss over her fingers. �śYour claws are showing, kitten.”�śLet go before everyone sees,” she hissed.�śOh, everyone has already seen. They are watching us closely. You have become a great spectacle. Do you think, if I were to ruin you right now as they all stare, your mysterious fiancé would have you still? Or, perhaps the better question is: would you still choose him, or would you choose me instead?”�śYou will ruin me if you continue,” she said.He returned their hands to their proper places, but not before she heard him murmur, �śI should have ruined you a long time ago.”She ignored it, ignored the thought of him lying above her, their limbs entangled as he finally made her his lover in truth. Her chest ached.�śI don’t want to ever see you again,” she said.He faltered as they turned once more, their movements a step behind the count of the music. �śI’m afraid, my darling, that your wish must unavoidably remain unfulfilled. For, you see, I live in England. You live in England. Unless your husband takes you away to gallivant around the world, he also will likely live in England.” He paused. �śHe is an Englishman, is he not?”�śYes. And you know I meant that I want you to stop seeking me out. Cease following me. Allow me to move on, as you must do.”�śHmm.” Another thumb stroke at her waist. �śI don’t believe you mentioned his name to me. Or perhaps you did and I simply forgot. What was it again?”She gritted her teeth. �śYour memory is correct. I didn’t tell you.” Would the waltz never end? Must this moment be prolonged? Why wouldn’t he allow her to say good-bye?�śCome now, don’t be shy. If I don’t know his name, how am I to know to avoid the two of you at all costs?”�śAugust,” she muttered.The curve of his mouth flattened, the black of his eyes somehow appearing to become even deeper. �śAh.”The violins pulled at the last strains of the waltz, and he swung her around in their final turn, then slowly drew her to a stop. Wordlessly he escorted her to the side where he’d first found her. �śMy lady,” he said, then bowed.Cecily’s heart thumped. �śThat’s it?” she whispered to his bent head. �śYou’ve given up, then?”He straightened, taking a step backward. One small step, and yet it seemed the greatest divide. �śI will never give up,” he said. But then he walked away.Chapter 3It was only the second time that he’d stood beneath Cecily’s window. Although from the beginning he’d made sure to discover exactly which bedroom was hers, he hadn’t allowed himself to come more than once before. He knew his limits, and the thought of Cecily in the bedchamber above, clothed in nothing more than her night rail, vulnerable and his for the taking�"the image was too much to bear.But tonight he allowed the image in his mind, embraced the picture his imagination painted of her blanket pushed to the end of the bed, her night rail tangled about her waist, her hair fanned over her pillow and her chest heaving as she dreamed of him.Did she dream of him?Perhaps. Perhaps not. Certainly he’d done everything to become her greatest desire, the same inescapable obsession that she’d become to him since the very first night he saw her.He lowered his gaze from her window and considered the tree outside. It would have been convenient had it been planted a foot closer; as it stood now he was more likely to break his neck than to actually succeed in climbing from branch to branch and then inside her window.Fortunately, he’d arrived with another plan.Drawing his watch from his pocket, he watched the seconds tick by. After approximately ninety-three had passed, a quiet click sounded at the study window nearby. The window casement swung out, followed by the head of the groom. Charles. He’d been very careful to obey his instructions to the last detail, but if he did happen to be sacked, he’d have a healthy purse of coins to sustain him for a while.Scruples were meaningless to the baron. Especially when it came to Lady Cecily. He would have paid far more�"all of his fortune�"in order to be with her.After a quick nod in his direction, Charles withdrew his head and Sedgwick approached the window. After climbing inside, he followed the footman’s muffled footsteps from the study and up the stairs, straight to her bedchamber.Sedgwick reached inside his pocket and withdrew the coin he’d promised. �śVery good, my lord,” the servant whispered with a grin, then silently melted into the shadows.Sedgwick turned to the door.The increased tempo of his heartbeat was familiar now, something which had once surprised him whenever she was near, something he’d tried to amuse himself with, but now he simply accepted it. Without her, he was a man who only pretended to be complete. With her, he only pretended to hold the reins of his self-control.He knocked.Foolish, to give her an opportunity to deny him entrance. To chance that someone else might hear�"or that even she might not hear the sound beyond her own slumber.He waited, but could detect no movement within the bedchamber. Closing his eyes, he covered the handle with his hand again. He could not walk away. He must see her tonight.But as he pushed into the chamber he came face-to-face with her, her arm outstretched toward the door. She gasped, and he lunged forward, covering her mouth with his hand. �śQuiet, kitten, else you will rouse the entire house.”A long moment passed. She gave a nod, and he released her, stepping backward to shut the door. He continued watching her, unable to look away. All of the images his mind had conjured had been for naught; the silk he wished to rip away was instead long cotton, the loose hair he wished to plunder was instead braided tightly at her scalp. Despite all that he’d taught her, she still remained the innocent virgin in appearance.Sedgwick smiled. Her eyes widened as he strolled toward her. �śYou cannot be here,” she whispered when he cupped her face between his hands.Bending his head, he kissed her cheek, then turned her head to kiss the other. As he did so the sweet rush of her breath fanned over his skin. And God, that was all he needed for his body to harden, ready to take her in the very next moment.He forced himself to release her and step away. Tonight he would give neither of them the pleasure of seduction. He already knew she lusted for him, something he’d once believed would be enough. But now that the wedding date was in two days, he needed more from her. Much more.�śRun away with me,” he murmured, circling her. She shivered as he watched, and his muscles tightened with the impulse to reach out and draw her near, to fold her in his embrace.�śI can’t,” she whispered, staring ahead at the opposite wall.�śDo you expect me to believe that you wish to marry your mysterious fiancé�"this August�"more than you want me?”Her body stiffened, her chin jerking toward him as he passed her left shoulder. �śI don’t know what you expect,” she said, using that haughty tone that he loved so well.�śBut you do, don’t you, Cecily?” He smiled narrowly. �śYou care about me, even though you might deny it.”She met his eyes. He raised a brow then looked away, ignoring the whisper of doubt which slithered through his conscience. He couldn’t stay near her. If he did, he would be too tempted to touch her, to kiss her, to sway her through physical means. Instead, he wandered into the darker shadows of the blackened room, away from the light cast off by the low fire. He remained silent. Not because there weren’t any words he could find, but because there were too many.�śI believe I like seeing you jealous,” she said at length.He forced laughter from his throat. �śJealous? Dear kitten, I am jealous of everything which touches you. I despise that nightgown you are wearing, for it brushes your skin. I despise your maid, for touching your hair every day. I despise everyone who sees you the times when I cannot, who speaks to you when I cannot, the beggar in the street who glimpses your stockinged ankles as you pass by. Of course I am jealous of the man who will soon have you bound to him for the remainder of your life.”He watched the heavy rise and fall of her chest, the protective way she crossed her arms over her chest. She hadn’t expected him to admit the truth. But he must be careful; doing so could be addictive and very dangerous.Yet though he grasped for it, he didn’t have the control he needed so desperately when he was around her. Leaving the shadows, he crossed the room and halted before her. He took her hand, raised it to his lips. �śDo you believe I am a good man, kitten?”�śNo,” she replied immediately, forcefully, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.�śAnd yet, tell me this, my lady. If I were someone else�"if I were the man whom your parents wish you to marry two days hence�"would you marry me instead?”Her eyes searched his. �śWhat reason would I have to marry you?” she asked.His heartbeat seized, the breath stolen from his lungs. Still, he was careful not to tighten his hold on her hand; nor did he release her. �śI see,” he said, moving forward until he stood against her, her breasts pushing into his chest. With his other hand he reached down and slowly began pulling up her night rail and beneath, her shift.�śThis is what you want, is it not?” His knee nudged her thigh, forced her to walk backward until she was wedged between him and the bed. �śDo you expect me to continue as we have been after you wed? Do you believe I will still be there to play servant to your needs?” He dipped his head, dragging his mouth along the edge of her jaw line and below to the tender give of her throat. How he wished he could sink his teeth into her flesh, to brand her as his and his alone, so that even she couldn’t doubt it.�śNo.” She shook her head. The hand unclaimed by his reached up, anchored itself at his neck. �śI would not be that woman. I will not betray my husband once we are married.”�śThen I suppose I shall have to satisfy you now, won’t I? One last time before he completes your knowledge of the marriage bed.”Her fingers clenched in his hair. His scalp stung with pain. �śYes.”It was a plea, although he knew she wouldn’t give him more. She might make silent confessions with her body, might moan and gasp and seek his lips with hers, but she never gave voice to her desires. He had to fight for control to stay away from her, while she held herself so easily away. Only through the kisses and caresses did they both give in.He secured her night rail and shift in his fist above her waist and pinned her against the bed with his weight. �śOpen your legs,” he ordered, hardening even further when she obeyed him immediately.With his other hand still holding hers, he brought their clasped hands to the juncture of her thighs. He released her only long enough to cover the back of her hand with his. Then he guided her fingers. Together, they parted the folds of her wet, silken flesh.�śSedgwick,” she gasped.He clamped his lips together, too close to demanding that she use his given name.He drew away from her, only far enough to look down and watch their shallow strokes. He moved his fingers to her wrist, giving her more freedom. �śDon’t stop,” he said. She made a soft sighing sound. He glanced up to find her gaze on his face. Leaning forward, he kissed her, aware of the feel of her delicate sinews moving beneath his fingertips below, the pulse in her wrist throbbing. His tongue stroking hers the same way her fingers feverishly caressed her own swollen need.He felt the movement of her fingers increase and she moaned, breaking their kiss. He looked down again and tightened the pressure of his hand. �śSlowly.” If she refused to beg when he touched her, then he would see her lose control with herself, to writhe and come undone at her own touch.A whimper crossed her lips but she slowed, her wrist flexing beneath his fingers as she stroked herself with one long, shaking movement. He alternated between watching her play with herself under his direction and lifting his gaze to her face. With each sigh and moan she tossed her head from side to side, first into the gleam of firelight and then into the darkness of shadow. Her lips pursed for a while, then parted in pants. Her eyes were closed, although they flickered open to sear his soul whenever he gave another command.�śDeeper.” Above she was virginal innocence: braided hair and high-necked cotton gown. His lashes lowered to below, where her long slender white legs stood splayed wide in the darkness, erotic in the white and black where the firelight couldn’t reach. And there, between, were their hands�"his there only upon her wrist to guide, to encourage and restrict as she�"God. He swallowed hard. The heaviness in his loins spread throughout his body, weighing his arms and legs, the sight of her pleasuring herself more potent than laudanum.�śCurl your finger.”�śSedgwick.� .� .� .”�śYes?” His breath caught, his attention shifting to focus on her face. But her eyes were closed still, hiding the admission he sought from his gaze.�śI� .� .� . want you.”His chest caved in, his lungs expelling air. Self-flagellation would have been no more painful than this, this constant hope he kept that she would one day give him permission to more than her body. He didn’t regret coming, but he should have left as soon as she’d made it clear he was not her choice. �śNo, kitten,” he murmured. He stilled her hand entirely. Her eyes flew open, glaring.Slowly, reluctantly, he released both her wrist and his hold on her night rail. �śI must go.”�śGo?”He turned, straightened his clothing. Composed his features. Erased the longing. When he was certain that she would see only what he wanted her to see, he met her gaze one last time.She’d lowered her clothing, perched herself on the edge of the bed with her hands on either side gripping the mattress. �śDamn you, Sedgwick. Damn you for doing this to me.”�śI believe you know how to bring it to an end. Surely I’m not necessary for this part.”�śPerhaps not.” She glanced away, bit her lip. �śBut don’t you want to watch?”He cursed her vulnerability, that shyness coupled with her seductive, teasing words. He’d been lured by her beauty, but this was how he’d been caught. Drawn in, his defenses plundered one moment by her hesitance, then her confidence, her passion� .� .� . then his own belief that he could make her need him just as much, so desperate to have him that she would do anything.When he remained silent, she lifted her chin and looked at him again, her gaze almost accusatory. �śI want you, but I won’t beg you to stay.”He nearly shook with the urge to go to her, to touch her again, but he knew himself too well to understand that if he did, he would be the one begging. He would take her now, and ruin the years he’d waited for her to give him everything. Instead, he curved his lips. �śI didn’t think you would, Lady Cecily. After all, you have a wedding to prepare for.” He gave a deep bow. �śI bid you adieu.”He turned to the door and paused. He waited only a moment, but it was far too long. Even if he had waited an hour, her silence made it clear that no declaration would come from her lips. He opened the door. �śI wish you all manner of happiness in your marriage,” he said before leaving. This truth, at least, he could speak.Chapter 4The morning of her wedding, Cecily went through her usual routine. She woke as the scullery maid stirred the fire. She brushed her hair as she waited for her lady’s maid to enter and help her dress.Her gown was ivory, in the style of Queen Victoria’s wedding gown. She didn’t examine it too closely; her mother had chosen both the color and the pattern. It must have had quite a few buttons, as it took the maid an interminably long time to finish with the back.Her hair was done simply at her request. Even if she must marry a stranger and behave as a dutiful daughter, at least she could have her way in this small part; no effort would be made to please him with her coiffure. No braids, no fanciful parts or sweeps or even anything other than the plainest of pins. Her small rebellion didn’t matter, anyway; the veil covered all of her hair and hid it from sight.Her father escorted her to the carriage. The three of them�"Cecily, her father, and her mother�"rode mostly in silence to the church. Her father attempted to make trivial conversation about the street hawkers they passed, but soon quieted when no response was made to his words.The church was small. Not St. Michael’s or St. George’s. There was no need for the wedding to be held there, as only her parents and the vicar of the town parish were to be witnesses; that was as her bridegroom had wished it, and Cecily was grateful. She couldn’t think of anything worse than meeting her husband for the first time in front of a few hundred guests. If nothing else, she wanted the privacy for her own reaction and her own thoughts. It would be difficult enough hiding her repulsion from four people, let alone trying to act the happy bride in front of the entire ton.With her hands clasped upon her lap, Cecily stared through her veil at the curtain covering the carriage window. No call of the coachman or sound from the harnesses alerted her that they were stopping; one moment the carriage had been moving along at a steady clip, and the next it was still, waiting for her to descend in front of the church.She could feel her mother and father watching her. Without meeting their eyes, she clutched her skirts in one hand while holding on to the groom’s hand with the other. She breathed in deeply. �śA beautiful day,” she commented, and indeed, it was�"no London fog for her wedding day, but clear sunshine and blue skies with only a scattering of clouds. Even a bird perched on the church roof, chirping happily.She’d been wrong to only want her parents and the vicar as witnesses. Angela should have been there, too. After all, Cecily had helped Angela prepare before her wedding; it was only fair for Angela to be at hers as well.Cecily bit her lip as her father took her arm and followed her mother inside the church. Yet despite the pain�"or perhaps because of it�"tears filled her eyes. They moved across to the open sanctuary doors. Down the long aisle, she could see the form of her bridegroom and the vicar waiting. Her mother strolled up the aisle before her. Then, turning, she too waited.They began to walk, her father steady and strong beside her. But with each step that took her closer to the front of the church, she couldn’t help but think: This shouldn’t be happening. She shouldn’t be marrying a stranger named August. Angela shouldn’t be dead. Circumstances shouldn’t have made her choose between her family and a man who changed the entire meaning of the world when she was with him. When she’d asked him the night he came to her bedchamber why she should marry him, he should have told her he loved her. He should have given her a reason to defy honor and duty beyond her own desires.Damn him.By the time they arrived at the other end of the aisle, the tears were brimming over, blurring her vision until all she could see of her bridegroom through her veil was the dark outline of his head and shoulders. Her father released her arm and stepped away. Swallowing, Cecily gave a small nod to the man who would soon be her husband and then looked toward the vicar.The vicar opened his mouth. Cecily blinked, forcing the tears to clear. When she opened them again, the vicar’s mouth was closed. Movement came from the side, and then her veil was being lifted.The scream thickened her throat. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want him to see her, not until it was over. Only a few more moments.� .� .� . �śNo�"”A finger touched her chin, drawing her gaze toward his. Dark obsidian pools that she could lose herself in�"that she had lost herself in, time and time again.He brushed his finger across her bottom lip. �śDon’t cry, kitten.”Her hand came up, fingers splayed wide. His head jerked to the right as he allowed the crack of her palm across his cheek.�śDon’t call me that,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. He noticed it was trembling. �śAnd I thought your name was Thomas.”�śIt is.” He reached up, caught a tear with his fingertip. How beautiful she was, even furious and miserable. �śThomas August William.”�śWhat is this?” Lord Marwick stepped forward. �śWhat cause did you give her to slap you? She knows you by your Christian name? Why are you touching her so familiarly?”August tore his gaze from her face�"reluctantly. His cheek burned from the imprint of her fingers, yet he knew he deserved all of her wrath. �śOh, I doubt she hardly needs a cause. And we are well acquainted, my lord. I’ve met Lady Cecily a number of times.”�śYes, of course. You danced with her at the Mayberry ball. But I was under the impression that�"”�śIs this the man we owe?” Cecily stepped back, away from his touch. He curled his fingers into his palm, then lowered his fist to his side. He had expected her surprise and anger. Though her withdrawal was an unwelcome move, he had expected that as well.The earl looked back and forth between them for a moment, his expression grooved and hollowed in concern. He nodded. Cecily turned to the vicar. �śPlease continue, then.”�śCecily.” August wrapped his hand around her upper arm. He tried to pull her away� .� .� . closer to him. �śI don’t want you to marry me because you feel obligated.” Yes, he did. He wanted her any way he could have her, although gladly would be best.�śDo you not?” she asked with a sharp jut of her chin. �śDidn’t you coerce Father into agreeing that I marry you in exchange for your financial support?”�śI gave him the money at the beginning. He could have said no.”�śBut you knew he wouldn’t!” She paused, her eyes lowering, then lifting to his again, shuttered now. �śJust as you knew you could make me want you.”�śCecily!” Lady Marwick sputtered nearby.�śSedgwick.”August raised a brow. The warning note in the earl’s voice was most impressive.�śGo on,” Cecily commanded the vicar.�śMy lord? Shall I�"?”�śYes,” August and Lord Marwick answered at the same time.They were married in less than three minutes. Vows spoken, rings exchanged. The woman he’d coveted for more than two years was finally his. August reached for her hand. For the first time since he’d begun his seduction, he couldn’t find any words. Should he attempt to soothe her? He might attempt a kiss�"She glanced at him, then lifted her hands and plucked out the pins holding her veil in place. The headpiece fell to the floor. �śGood day, husband,” she announced, then turned and strode back up the aisle.Chapter 5Her new husband followed her. Out of the church and into her family’s carriage where he ordered the coachman to take them to his house.�śMy parents will need a conveyance,” she snapped as he settled comfortably in the opposite seat.�śThey can use mine.”�śI don’t wish to go to your home.”�śWhere else would you go? We are married now.”And God help her for the thrill that shivered down her spine at those words. More so now than ever, she shouldn’t want to be his.When they arrived at his town house he followed her through the door. She greeted the butler and the footman who waited at the front, servants she knew by name due to the number of times she had visited the Sedgwick residence to let him seduce her with words and touches. Or rather, she supposed now, to let him toy with her.He followed her down the hall and up the staircase, followed her down another corridor and into the bedchamber she’d used to straighten her attire in the past. It was the room adjacent to his�"the bedchamber designed for the mistress of the house.He strolled toward her. Unlike her he moved unhurriedly, his breathing even, not chasing her as much as stalking her like a predator after his prey.Or, watching her as a chessmaster guarded his pawn. There were so many analogies she could use to describe how much of a bastard he was.Cecily climbed onto the bed and tumbled onto her back, her arms and legs spread wide as she stared at the ceiling.She heard a strangled sound. A stifled laugh? A groan?�śWell?” she said. �śCome and take me. This is why you pursued me, is it not? Why you pretended to be two different people so you could make sure you won me either way?”He approached soundlessly and sat on the bed beside her. She didn’t sink toward him, but the fact that she still wanted to caused her face to flame with shame. His arm lifted and he reached out, drawing a finger from her cheek down to her throat.�śI understand you’re angry at me, kitten.”�śI believe I asked you not to call me that.” The nickname had been a welcome endearment from a man she l�"could possibly have loved. He was no longer that same man.�śYou have every reason to be furious,” he said, using that dark, calm voice he’d employed so well in the past to seduce her to his every wish.�śGo to hell,” she replied, just as calmly. She paused, searching for more vulgarity to fling at him. �śBut first fuck me so we can get this done.”He didn’t even raise a brow. �śPerhaps you might consider an annulment,” he suggested.Cecily swatted the finger away he held at her pulse and sat up. �śWhat do you want from me?” she pled.He said nothing, only watched her.�śDo you not want to be my husband? My lover? Is this not what you planned and schemed? To have me at any cost?” She narrowed her eyes, her next thought bringing her more misery than before. �śOr am I simply a means to another end?”�śNo.” He reached out again and cupped her cheek. �śYou are all I want.”Cecily jerked away. �śAnd yet you used me,” she whispered.His hand lowered until it covered hers on the coverlet. �śMy darling. Can you not see the truth? Can you not understand how I waited for two years, biding my time? Catching your gaze across the room first, then speaking with you to make you comfortable with me. Asking you to dance, making jests to hear you laugh. Our first kiss. Our first touch. I waited and I waited, even while I made the arrangements with your father. I only set the wedding date because I could be patient no longer. And then when you discovered Lady Wriothesly’s death and you would not let me comfort you, I�"” He broke off and inhaled deeply. Lifting her hand to his lips, he turned it over and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. It was only one of the many vulnerable, secret places of her body that she hadn’t known needed to be kissed until he had revealed it to her.Cecily shivered as his lips gently plied her skin with more whispered caresses. �śDo�"” Her lashes fluttered upward, tangled with his heated black gaze. �śDo you love me?” she asked. She immediately wanted to take the words back, certain of her own foolishness.He moved her hand, pulling it away from his mouth and drawing it toward his body. Her fingers brushed against the soft woolen cloth of his waistcoat. Her palm settled over the left side of his chest. Beneath her hand, she could feel the wild, frantic beating of his heart�"perhaps even faster than her own. �śMadly.”Cecily swallowed and tried to draw her hand away. Slowly, as if he were reluctant to release her, his fingers slipped one by one from hers until she was free. Yet even then her palm remained pressed against him, and his eyelashes fell, half-lidded, awareness of her need for him again filling his eyes.She snatched her hand away and darted her gaze across the chamber to focus on the door, anything but him. �śIf I requested it, you would permit an annulment?”From the corner of her eye she saw him rise. �śAs you’ve probably concluded by now, I’m not a particularly honorable man. I did not refuse to take your virginity when you begged me simply to save you for your unnamed, unknown fiancé.” He strode to the door, pausing to look over his shoulder. �śI did it, my love, in order to give you options.”Then he walked quietly out, leaving Cecily with her hand outstretched and her lips parted, wondering whether she’d meant to call him back to explain more or simply because she couldn’t bear for him to leave.Her maid unpacked the trunks. Cecily went to the library, selected a random book from the dozens of shelves, and pretended to read for the new few hours. She could have stayed hidden away in her bedchamber while her things were put away, but the sight of her clothes and belongings being stowed away seemed too permanent. Yet she didn’t intend to permit an annulment. Foolish though she was, devious though her husband might be, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him.Simply knowing that they were now in the same house, that she could go to him and speak with him, could touch him any time she liked, comforted her with a peace she hadn’t known since he’d first appeared in her life.Anticipation. Desire. Want and need. Comfort and peace. Odd that he should bring her all of these; odder still that she should trust him despite the fact that he deceived her.August. It was no longer the name of an aging man, but of a man who walked with silent steps, a man who pierced through her defenses with one glance. No matter his name, he would always steal her breath away.�śCecily.”She startled. The book fell from her grasp, settling with a broken binding and crushed pages below the window seat. She glanced behind her, then up. August stood there, staring down at her, his expression inscrutable. The door behind him closed. She swallowed, determined to disguise the immediate need which threatened to overwhelm her. �śHow may I help you, my lord?”He moved to sit at her feet. Even with her legs bent in the narrow space he was still too close, her feet tucked against his outer thigh. �śI have a confession to make to you.”She raised a brow and shifted, trying to curl into herself so that he couldn’t weaken her any further by his touch. �śAnother revelation so soon? Shall you tell me all of your secrets in one day?”His mouth curved into a dark half-smile�"part wicked, part self-derisive. �śI will tell you whatever you wish. But I would ask one thing of you first.”�śYes?”�śStay with me.” His smile fell, his lids lowering as he stared into her eyes. �śMy confession is this: I tried to seduce you because I know I can sway you with my mouth, with my hands. I can give you pleasure. I know how to make you breathless, mindless with passion. The truth is, however, that I don’t have anything else to offer you. I’m not the man your parents would have chosen for you freely. I am not a man of talent. If I were, I would have composed a symphony to your beauty. I am not a man proficient with words�"all I can speak of is my love for you, and the devastation you would damn me to for the rest of my life should you leave. It’s true I have wealth. I will give it all to you. I will give you everything you wish, everything I can give�"every hour of the day, every breath from my lungs�"if you will stay with me. Don’t leave.”Her heart slammed against her ribs. Slowly, she straightened and leaned forward on the window seat, her eyes roving over him. How still he sat, his posture stiff and his gaze guarded. Cecily reached forward and lifted his hand where it lay clenched upon his knee. She turned her face and laid his palm against her cheek. He stared at her, and she willed him to see her own silent confession, the truth that had been evident all along if only he had tried to see it.�śIs this the hand you would seduce me with?”His chest expanded with breath. He gave a short, terse nod, his black eyes flaring.�śAnd this?” She leaned farther still, reaching to trace the outline of his lips, her fingers trembling at the first touch. �śIs the mouth you would use to make me mindless with passion?”He kissed her fingertips, then lifted his other hand to capture hers. Holding her captive, he parted his lips and drew both fingers inside. The hot, sensuous pull of his mouth stirred an ache between her thighs. Her breath rushed from her lungs, her skin heating in turn from her own need, his touch, his dark gaze which claimed every beat of her heart as his.Withdrawing her fingers, she knelt and circled her arms around his neck. �śI accept,” she whispered. �śI will take all of you, everything you will give me. Your heart, your soul, your body. Just as you have mine.”�śI fear even your heart, soul, and body will never be enough,” he said against her lips. �śI will always want you, always want more of you. I will never be content with what you can give me. You must understand, Cecily, for I will not leave you alone. If you take me now, you take me knowing that this fire will remain unquenched, this desire something that I wish to consume you also.”�śYou speak as if you are the only one who wants. Do I not love you as well? Do I not need you as desperately?”�śYou have not said�"”�śI love you. I loved you from the first. I�"”He kissed her hard, sealing his lips to hers, tangling his hands in her hair and holding her to him with such strength that she couldn’t move. But she didn’t want to move. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her clothes were too constricting, unbearable boundaries shielding her from the heat of his skin, the touch of his flesh against hers.Unlike their previous encounters, he didn’t leave her lips. He tore at her buttons, her lacings. He shred the gown from her shoulders and shoved her corset aside. He ripped her drawers and chemise apart and she was naked before him, all but for her shoes and stockings, and still he kissed her.She tugged at his jacket but he moved her arms again to encircle his neck. In a frenzy he removed his own clothing, their lips parting for seconds only to find each other a moment later. He laid her down upon the window seat and moved over her.�śI shouldn’t take you now,” he said, each syllable a caress as his mouth brushed over hers. �śNot here, not like this. Tell me to stop, kitten. I need you to tell me�"”In answer she smoothed her hands over his shoulders and down his back, pressing him against her, opening her thighs to cradle him. �śNow,” she whispered. �śNo more waiting. Please, August.”On a moan he entered her, unable to control himself. She cried out his name again.�śAugust.”He shuddered as he stroked inside, again and again. A thousand words could not have described the glorious heat of her body as he moved within her. He searched for her pain, cursed himself for taking hours and hours to prepare her over the past two years only to abandon all pretense of control at the moment he needed it most.With relief he found that her features wore only an expression of passion. She stared up at him, when he’d expected her to close her eyes as she’d always done in the past when pleasure overtook her. He watched her as he moved inside, needing to see the moment that she, too, realized that all the words they had spoken and all of their previous caresses were finally confirmed in this moment, this consummation.They moved together, silent. Words were needless now when every time he entered her, each tightening of her legs around his hips, every second that passed between them as they stared into one another’s eyes was like a vow.Neither looked away. Not when her lips parted with breathless pants, not when she clenched around him, not when he reached between their bodies to push her first to release. She bowed beneath him, the most beautiful image he’d ever seen, coming apart in his arms. Burying his face at her throat, August poured himself into her, his entire body trembling with the effort after every time they’d met and he’d given her pleasure while taking none of his own.Afterward her heartbeat thudded beneath his ear, and she clutched him tightly, her arms and legs still wound around him as if she could keep him inside her forever.�śI understand,” she said quietly.Reluctant to have even one inch of his skin leave hers, still he pushed himself onto his elbows. He drew a line from the corner of her eye where a wet trace showed a tear had spilled, moving over the crest of her cheek and down to her chin. He turned her gaze toward his.�śTell me,” he urged.Her eyes burned into his, and for the first time, August realized she was finally allowing herself to see him as something that wouldn’t soon disappear. At last, she understood that she was the one who possessed him heart, body, and soul.�śI always thought that I would be satisfied, that this would be the conclusion to your kisses and caresses that kept me longing for you these past two years. Yet you have just made love to me and already I want you again. Is this how you intend to consume me?” she asked.He smiled and leaned down, kissed her once more. �śEvery day for the rest of our lives, my love.”Chapter 6The note arrived as he finished preparing for dinner. Though his name was written in her script it held no scent, which he knew after lifting it to his nose, seeking another hint of her.August turned the envelope over, carefully pried the edges open with his fingers. He drew out a thick white card, the elegant black writing containing a short missive, nothing more than:Meet me in my bedchamber.�"CThough the location and the signed initial were different, the message was more than familiar, an echo of the same he had sent to her repeatedly over the past two years.His wife had summoned him to a rendezvous.Casting off the cravat his valet had just perfected, August dismissed the servant and strode to the connecting door between their chambers, her note in his hand.He didn’t knock, but entered quietly, his body already hardening. Is this how she’d felt when he sent for her? Her blood thickening with arousal, her heart speeding in anticipation? No wonder she hadn’t been able to refuse him; simply the thought of her waiting for him, knowing she wanted him, was enough to tear away any pride that might have kept him from her side.Of course, where Cecily was concerned, he’d long ago surrendered his pride. With her there was only need.Although he made no noise as he entered her bedchamber, nothing to alert her of his presence, she was nowhere to be found. Not on the bed�"the first place he looked�"nor waiting for him before the fire.�śCecily?”A soft, smooth hand touched the back of his neck. �śDon’t turn around,” she ordered, her voice low, each of the four syllables spoken in the seductive tone of a temptress.Black cloth descended over his vision, and he felt her fingers brush in his hair as she tied the ends at the back of his head.He knew by the stirring of air that she moved to stand before him, by the silken strands of her hair sliding across his skin as he stretched out his hands that apparently she’d never meant to go downstairs to dinner.He took a deep breath, aware of his own impatience now, when he’d been eternally patient as the seducer.�śHullo, kitten,” she said.August laughed, but the sound was uneven, uncertain. Even he could hear the need in his voice. �śPerhaps you should try another name,” he suggested.�śYou’re right, of course. Kitten is too tame for you.”Her fingers descended upon his shoulders, then dragged downward, pulling sensation from every pore hidden beneath his clothes. �śAm I the tame one, my lord? Is that why you gave me that name?”His breath hissed out as she untucked his shirt from his trousers.�śHardly tame. As I mentioned once before, even kittens have claws.”�śHmm. I suppose they do, don’t they?” Her fingernails scraped low on his abdomen, scoring him lightly. They passed over the front of his trousers, little lines of pleasure pressing through the thick cloth.�śIs this a proper seduction, my lord? Am I doing this correctly?” The placket of his trousers came undone, the waist loosening. She tugged them down.August reached out, needing to touch her, to feel her, but she calmly took his hands and returned them to his sides.�śMy lord? You haven’t yet answered me.”She took him in hand.�śYes.” He pushed into her touch, gritted his teeth as her palm moved over him. Had she also felt powerless like this, helpless as he’d determined each move to be made, as he’d dictated how much control he would give her?No, she could never have felt as helplessly thrilled as he did right now, unable to do anything but let her have her way with him.The moment her tongue touched his tip, he thought he would spill himself. Every muscle clenched as he sought restraint. And though he tried to keep his hands at his side as she wished, he couldn’t help it as his fingers sank into her hair in wordless encouragement.Then she drew away, her head tilting upward beneath his hands.�śPerhaps I should stop,” she said.�śNo�"why?” he asked. God, but he was close to begging her. Behind the blindfold he closed his eyes, swallowed. She was silent, the only proof that she remained in the room the feel of her hair beneath his fingers.�śPlease,” he said, careless that he begged, careless that the word came out hoarse and raw. How many times had he tortured her when she would have kept silent? He’d forced her to moan her acquiescence, forced her to plead in sighs and whimpers and wordless noises of pleasure. �śCecily.” He groaned her name.Her hand wrapped around him again, her fingers small yet tight at the base of his cock. �śPerhaps this is what you want,” she said. An exact echo of the phrase he’d used with her. She slid her lips over his tip, lightly sucking. �śOr this.” His entire length slid inside her mouth.He arched against her. A moan issued from his lips without thought. If he were worthy of her, he would have stepped back and ripped off the blindfold, carried her to the bed and pleasured her until she was the one moaning and screaming, until she begged him for release.But he was selfish. Too weak with want to think of anything but her hands and her lips on him, his cock swelling even further inside her mouth.When she began to withdraw again, he begged. �śPlease, Cecily.” The blank slate of his vision swam with colors as she obliged with the tight circle of her fingers and the hot, velvet wet cup of her tongue.A wild cry broke his throat as he spilled himself inside her mouth, his legs shaking as he held her head in place and bucked his hips. She didn’t try to move away but tightened her grip, swallowing as he came.When he was done he stood over her, his mind empty of anything but the thought of her. He removed the blindfold, then moved his hands from her head to her shoulders, dragged her upward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.�śWhy?” he asked her, kissing first her cheeks, her forehead, her chin.She shrugged, her mouth curving. �śI wanted to give you pleasure.”�śI am always pleased with you.”�śThen I lied.”He tipped her chin up. �śThe true reason, my love.”�śI wanted to know that I’m not the only weak one. I wanted to see if you would give me control.”He laughed, a shaken sound. �śThen we are each weak and without control, for every time I look at you I feel helpless. Each time we kiss my chest aches, and I despise each moment you’re away from me.” He stroked a finger down her cheek, laid his forehead against hers. �śI believe, kitten, that I am simply, unbearably, in love with you.”She sighed and closed her eyes. �śAnd I you.”August cleared his throat. �śI would like you to know, however, that should you ever feel weak again, please feel free to arrange another tryst as you like. I would be happy to oblige you.”�śPerhaps after dinner, then,” she said, looking at him through her lashes.�śAgreed.” And he captured her smile on his lips.What happened to Lady Cecily’s friend Angela?Read on for a preview of the next riveting Victorian romance fromAshley MarchROMANCING THE COUNTESS�śFrom the first page, Romancing the Countess captivated me with a smart heroine, a sexy, brooding hero, and a sophisticated romance that vibrates with sexual tension.”�"New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Hoyt� London, April 1849As on most every other night, Leah lay in the center of the bed and watched the shadows cast from the firelight flicker across the canopy. The steady lash of rain and wind rattled the windows in their cases, a buffer against the usual silence.Lightning flashed through the room, and her breath caught as she stared at the illumination of silver-threaded flowers overhead. Even if the bedchamber had been suffused in darkness, she still could have recited each detail of the bed’s rococo-style construction. The fluted mahogany posts with their serpentine cornices. The shallow frieze of interwoven palmettes and draperies of lush, midnight velvet. The feet fashioned as lion heads below and the domed canopy above. When the lightning came again, Leah measured her breath, anticipating the accompanying growl of thunder.She imagined the women who had come before her: her husband’s mother, his grandmother. Had they, too, stared at the canopy so long that they began to dream of its embroidered ribbons and flower garlands, of shimmering, silvery threads and roses turned black by the shadows? Had hours and hours passed until they imagined they could see each impeccable stitch, counting them only to forget the number when a sound downstairs erupted from the silence, startling them into awareness?With her heart pounding, Leah waited for the sound to transform into footsteps up the stairs, to distinguish themselves into Ian’s steady, swaggering gait. How foolish she’d once been to admire the way he walked�"to admire his easy grin, the golden shine of his sun-swept hair� .� .� . anything about him. And how even greater a fool she was now to dread his arrival into her bedchamber, when she knew he would easily accept her plea of a headache. He might even be glad for the reprieve.Still, as the echo of footsteps climbed within her hearing, she remained in the center of the bed. Neither on the left nor the right, but rigidly in the middle, as if the few feet on either side could serve to sufficiently delay the moment when he leaned across her and began stroking her breasts in solicitous, husbandly regard. He could have spared her that, at least.Leah’s breath hitched at the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Then, slowly, she sighed with relief. It wasn’t her husband. These footsteps were too hasty, the stride too short. Her gaze retreated from the door to the canopy overhead, her fingers released their stranglehold on the counterpane, and she began counting the stitches again.One, two, three, four� .� .� .�śMadam?”Leah’s gaze stumbled over the width of the ribbon and flew toward the direction of the housekeeper’s voice.�śMrs. George? I apologize for disturbing you� .� .� .”�śNo, no. Not at all,” Leah called. Tearing the covers aside, she hurried across the room. Anything to leave the bed. She had already opened the hallway door and raised her arm to invite Mrs. Kemble inside when she froze, arrested by the housekeeper’s expression. Gone was the woman’s usual implacable cheerfulness; in its place was a face worn with time, each wrinkle sagging with the weight of her age. Her brows were lowered, her teeth buried in her upper lip, and the hands clasped at the front of her waist trembled as she met Leah’s eyes.�śI’m sorry, madam. There’s� .� .� . there’s been an accident.”Leah blinked. The housekeeper’s mouth seemed to be moving at an extraordinarily slow pace, as if each syllable struggled to escape. �śAn accident?” she repeated. And somehow, simply by saying the words, she knew that he was gone.�śYes, Mr. George� .� .� .”They stared at each other for what seemed an impossibly long time, until Leah was certain she could have counted at least a hundred canopy stitches.Finally, she forced the words out. Not as a question, but a blunt, sure statement. �śHe’s dead.”Mrs. Kemble nodded, her chin quivering. �śOh, my dear, I’m so sorry. If there is anything�"”Gone. Ian, her husband, was dead. Never again would she lie awake at night, waiting for him to return from his lover’s arms. Never again would she listen for his footsteps or count the stitching or bear his tortuous, sensual lovemaking.He was gone.And Leah, who had vowed never to cry for him again, sank to her knees, her hands clutched in the housekeeper’s skirt, and wept.�śRook to queen. Check.”Sebastian nodded and considered the whimsical dance of the fire’s shadows as they played across what little remained of his ivory army. He slid a lonely pawn forward.His brother uttered a low oath and planted his bishop near Sebastian’s king. �śCheckmate. Damnation, Seb, that’s four in a row. Do you even realize you’re losing?”Lifting his gaze from the chessboard, Sebastian raised an idle brow. �śYes. And I thought you’d be happy.”James swept aside the pieces and began arranging them anew. �śI’d be happy if you found a new role. Something other than heartsick lover. At least condescend enough to pretend to notice my presence. It’s only been half a day.”�śFourteen hours.” Sebastian rolled the ivory queen between his thumb and forefinger.Precisely fourteen hours had passed since Angela left for their country estate in Hampshire, but already he was going mad without her. In three years of marriage, they’d spent only a few nights apart. Even though their lovemaking had been sporadic since she’d taken ill in the autumn, he was still accustomed to their usual domestic routine: sitting before the fire together as she brushed her hair, discussing the day’s events. If she didn’t feel well, a kiss good night before they separated for their individual bedchambers.James paused in the act of replacing the last ebony piece. �śFourteen hours� .� .� . And I suppose you also know exactly how many minutes and seconds?”With a small smile, Sebastian settled his queen upon her square and refused the urge to glance at the mantel clock over the sitting room hearth. Instead, his fingers reached below to the note he’d tucked away in the chair’s crevice. There was no need to unfold it; he’d already read the words a dozen times, enough to memorize the few short sentences she’d written.If he breathed deeply enough, he imagined he could smell her perfume rising from the well-worn paper, the same blended scent she used for her bath.Lavender and vanilla.Memories wrapped around him, warm and soothing and arousing. It had been a long time since Angela had allowed him to watch her bathe, but still he could remember the heady scent of lavender and vanilla upon her naked skin, the slosh of the bath water over the sides of the tub as she bucked beneath his touch.The corner of the note twisted between his fingers.James nudged the first pawn into play. �śI know you have Parliamentary duties to attend to, but surely they would understand if you made it a priority to see to your wife’s health first.”�śThey’ll have to.” Sebastian led his own pawn out. �śI’m traveling to Hampshire in a week, whether the bill’s resolved or not.”One week. Compared to fourteen hours, it seemed a hellish eternity.Still, he looked forward to surprising Angela; she wasn’t expecting him to arrive with their son for at least a fortnight. He might bring her a gift as well, perhaps a little house spaniel to keep her company when the weather forced her to remain indoors. Something to cheer her, to keep her from her melancholy. Regardless of how much he tried to attend to her, she seemed so lonely at times.Her health had never been the same after Henry’s birth, but recently she’d become more and more withdrawn. She continued to act the role of generous hostess while they were in Town, smiling and flirting as usual, but privately he could tell the London air was making matters worse. Sebastian could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. In the way the lightest touch of his fingers sometimes made her flinch, as if her skin was too fragile.He didn’t regret allowing Angela’s departure to the countryside, but damned if he could stay away for even a week when she needed him.Sebastian considered the row of ivory casualties at the side of the board, pieces fallen beneath James’ advance. He moved his queen’s bishop to counter James’ rook. For the first time that evening, he actually felt like making an effort to win. �śMake that three days instead.”James glanced up with a knowing look. �śThe night’s young yet. I’m sure given a few more hours you’ll be calling for the coach.”A crash of thunder outside echoed the anticipatory clamor of Sebastian’s heart. He smiled. �śPerhaps,” he murmured, and captured one of James’ knights.The horses would have to ride hard through the storm, but he could very well reach the Wriothesly estate the next afternoon. It would be only a short while after Angela would have arrived, and to think he would be able to see her again so soon� .� .� .In a matter of minutes, Sebastian managed to eliminate piece after piece of the ebony set, including the king’s bishop. �śCheck.”James tapped the table. �śI seem to recall asking you to pretend to notice me. I never asked you to win.”Sebastian edged his chair away. �śHurry and make your move.”�śLeaving so soon, are you?” James asked with a grin.�śYes, damn you, now take my rook so I can�"”A knock sounded at the sitting room door.�śEnter,” Sebastian called, glaring at James as he took his merry time in lifting his queen into the air, then slowly moved it toward the remaining white rook.�śMy lord. A message has arrived for you.”Sebastian gestured absently in the direction of the butler, then, realizing how late it was, lifted his gaze to the doorway with a frown. �śWho is it from, Wallace?”�śA Mr. Grigsby, my lord. I beg your pardon. I wouldn’t have interrupted your game, but the messenger said it was most urgent.”�śOne moment.” Sebastian turned to find his rook gone. With one last move, he shifted his queen across the board to trap James’ king. �śCheckmate.”�śYes, it’s a great surprise, that one is,” James muttered. Then with a wave of his hand toward the doorway, he added, �śAt least find what your mysterious message is about before you go.”�śYou’re very generous as a loser, aren’t you?”With a faint smile at James’ retorted oath, Sebastian beckoned for the folded parchment. It was cheap, the material coarse beneath his fingers, and spattered with raindrops. �śA Mr. Grigsby, you said?” he asked without looking up.�śYes, my lord.”�śHmm.” Unfolding the letter, Sebastian bent it toward the light. He read slowly, his mind distracted by thoughts of Angela.And then he saw her title.Lady Wriothesly� .� .� .He read again, and again, and each time the words refused to coalesce into any meaningful coherence..� .� . identified by crest� .� .� . carriage accident� .� .� . coachman injured, man and woman killed� .� .� . coachman informed� .� .� . Lady Wriothesly� .� .� . Mr. Ian George� .� .� .The letter began shaking before his eyes. No, his hand was shaking. The letter� .� .� .He must have said something, because he could hear James calling to him.Angela was dead. His beautiful, sweet, beloved wife.And Ian, too. His closest friend.They were dead. Together.Fragments of thought collided, then fused into a numbed comprehension. Sebastian stared at the letter, his thumb rubbing the ink until it smeared. He heard James’ voice: �śSebastian, what is it?” Then the letter was gone.And all he could think was:She hadn’t been lonely, after all.Table of ContentsCoverTitle PageCopyrightChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Preview