CHAPTER ONE

“You cannot marry him. I will not allow it.”

Siena straightened from her slump and sent a regretful smile toward Eliza, who stood, arms crossed and shoulders set as though ready to do battle, a few feet away.

“If only you were the one who was making the decision.”

“I have no idea how your parents could expect you to marry a man so… distasteful. Unsettling. Old. He must be older than your father. And the way he looks at you—”

“Is how a husband is allowed to look at his wife, I would suspect,” Siena said, although she couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of Lord Mulberry touching her, let alone—no. She couldn’t think of it, or she would never get through this day.

It wasn’t his age that bothered her. It was how he made her feel. Eliza wasn’t wrong.

“I suppose the only positive of this situation is that he might not last much longer,” Eliza said as she stood from her seat in the armchair before the fire and walked over to stand behind Siena, meeting her gaze in the mirror of the vanity. 

Siena’s lady’s maid had already come and gone, having prepared her for the morning wedding ceremony, and only Eliza remained as they waited for the carriage to convey them to the church.

Siena’s eyes widened. “Eliza!”

Her best friend shrugged, her blue-green eyes alighting with mischief as her dimples played in her cheeks. “It’s the truth.”

She reached out and stole a lily from the bouquet sitting on the vanity top in front of them and tucked it into a pin that was holding Siena’s blonde hair in an intricately braided style that was far more elaborate than she preferred. 

But it didn’t matter, for who would ever see it but her family, her groom, and his children?

“Children” who were older than she was.

“How your parents could do this to you, I will never understand,” Eliza said, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. Siena knew that Eliza meant well, but it was easy to say such things when one had parents allowed her to do as she pleased. 

“They are most concerned that I am well looked after,” Siena said softly.

“You are too kind. I suppose it doesn’t hurt that your new husband’s family is so well respected in social circles,” Eliza added in a jaded tone.

“I suppose not,” Siena admitted, looking up and meeting Eliza’s eyes, noting the pity in her friend’s gaze.

“You do not have to do this, you know,” Eliza murmured, and hope sprang in Siena’s chest before she could tamp it down.

“What other choice do I have?” Siena said, throwing her hands up to the side. “I have asked my parents for more time to find another suitor, but they have no interest in hearing my thoughts. This is how it has to be, whether I like it or not.”

“There is always another option,” Eliza said slowly. “You just might have to take a risk.” She looked from one side to the other, as though someone might hear her. “If you want to escape, I will help you.”

“Escape?” Siena stood, startled. “How? And where would I possibly go?”

“Anywhere,” Eliza said, reaching out and taking Siena’s hands in hers, more fervent now. “I have a plan. I wasn’t sure if you would agree, but just in case, everything is prepared, including a horse with saddlebags packed. I do not live far and my father won’t notice a horse missing from his stable for a time.”

“That would be stealing!”

“That is what you are most concerned with right now?” Eliza said with a sigh. “Honestly, Siena, do you always have to do what is right, what you are told? Your selflessness is to be admired, but it also drives me mad.”

Siena hated the shame that washed through her at Eliza’s words, especially as she knew her friend was right.

“If I do not marry Lord Mulberry,” she began, as that hope began to rise in her throat once more, “then no one will ever have me. I will be ostracized and then I will never have what I truly want.”

“Which is?”

“To be a mother,” Siena said softly. 

Eliza’s eyes bore into hers. “You do understand what you have to do to become a mother, do you not? Or should I remind you? For it is very important that you know before you marry Lord Mulberry.”

“Of course I know,” Siena said. “You have shared with my all of your ‘knowledge’ before.”

“Just making sure,” Eliza said. “You make it sound as though I have experience when really it is all from studying—”

She was interrupted by a knock at the door before Siena’s lady’s maid, Alice, opened it a crack.

“My lady, it is time for you to proceed to the church.”

“Thank you, Alice,” Siena said before dropping Eliza’s hands. “We should go. I do thank you, Eliza. You are like a sister to me. I know you are looking out for me in what you feel is best.”

“Someone has to do it,” Eliza said grimly, “for you certainly do not look out for yourself.”

Eliza’s words stayed with Siena as they left the house on Grosvenor Square and entered the carriage, where her mother was already waiting, her face set in disapproval. 

“I do hope that you shall be more attentive to your husband,” she said with a sniff. Siena ignored her, used to her barbed remarks, although she could sense Eliza balking behind her.

“Where is Father?” Siena asked, dropping her lilac skirts around her as she and Eliza took a seat across from her mother. She hoped Eliza wouldn’t say anything to anger her mother. Eliza’s parents were of proper enough standing for the daughters to be friends, but Siena’s mother did not hide her disapproval for the outspoken Eliza – nor Eliza her disdain for Siena’s mother, who had always been the domineering sort. 

While Siena wouldn’t have to obey her for much longer, she knew she was only trading one puppet master for another.

The closer they drew to the church, the faster her heart began to pound. While she hadn’t been particularly pleased about the marriage her father had arranged, she had tried to ignore it until now, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop it so what was the point in worrying over it? She had tried in vain to appeal to her brother, but he was merely her father’s mimic and was happy to marry her off so that he would never have the risk of looking after her. 

This wedding was inevitable now, and the closer they drew to St. George’s, the more perspiration broke out on her brow at the reality that the next hour would change the rest of her life.

Her heart was beating so hard it was nearly pounding out of her chest, and her vision threatened to blacken completely. As the panic set in, she looked to Eliza, and her friend, understanding her better than anyone, set her lips in a firm line before reaching out and squeezing Siena’s hand. She lifted a brow, asking Siena what she wanted to do.

Siena only paused for a moment before she nodded just once, clenching her jaw. 

She had always done what she was told, had never taken a chance or done anything for herself. Everything she did was to make those around her happy.

But not today. 

She would do it.

She would escape this wedding.

~~~~~

“Would you like me to light the fire, your grace?”

“No.”

Levi sat in the worn navy damask chair in front of the empty hearth, staring into where flames should have been flickering, warming him and the room.

Which they would have were he a different man, one without his demons. 

“It is rather cold—”

“Light the rooms you are using if that will keep you warm, Thornbury.”

“I am not concerned for myself, your grace, but the staff—”

“Light the rooms for them, then. Leave this one.”

“Very good, your grace.”

The butler closed the door softly behind him, leaving Levi alone in the drawing room, dark but for the light from behind the three large windows. On the rare sunny day, the room would be alight, but today, on a day as gloomy as his mood, it simply cast a blue glow around the room, although it was enough to read the paper before him.

He should have ended his subscription months ago, but he found that he could not completely shut himself off from the outside world.

The article was small, on the bottom right side of the third page. Most readers probably skimmed over it, no longer interested. But the fact that it remained was enough to irk him. When would they be done with him?

The door opened with a creak once more, causing Levi to throw the paper down in exasperation.

“Your grace?” Thronebury had been with him long enough that he did not shrink away from his tempers, although Levi somewhat wished that he did.

“I told you, Thornbury, I do not want a fire.”

“It is not that, your grace. You have a visitor.”

Still facing away from the door, Levi sighed as he rubbed his fingers against his temples. “Tell Fitz to go away.”

“I had a feeling you would say that,” came his friend’s far-too-jovial voice from behind him. “So I showed myself in. Thank you, Thornbury. I appreciate your attempt at properly announcing me.”

“Lord Fitzroy,” Thornbury murmured before the door shut with a click behind him.

Levi tried to surreptitiously place the scandal sheet in the book next to him, but Fitz was too fast. Levi envied the light, unburdened skip in his step as he took a seat in the chair next to him, reaching out and snatching an untouched sandwich from the tray on the table between them. 

“Still reading that shit, I see?”

“It is drivel, yes, but drivel people read,” Levi muttered. “Why will they not leave me be?”

“It is not every day a man survives your experience, ascends to the highest ranks, and then responds by hiding himself away in a run-down estate outside of London,” Fitz said, crossing one knee over the other and then bouncing it up and down. The man could never sit still, always moving in one way or another. 

“You make it sound as though I am someone to be admired.”

“You are.”

Levi snorted. His friend couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I came to share a thought with you.”

“A letter would have sufficed.”

“And miss this electrifying conversation? What a shame that would be. Besides, how would I know that you would open and read what I had to say?”

Levi remained silent, for Fitz had a point.

“You have been in hiding long enough. It has been over a year and, as you say, there is still much speculation as to what has become of you. A man becomes a duke and suddenly disappears? Many think you are dead, you know.”

“Let them,” he said before adding, “They also think I’m a murderer. Not sure which is worse.”

“No one is saying that much anymore. The issue is, you have done nothing to rebuild the entailed estate and you have a dukedom that could sorely use you, Levi.”

“They do not need me. Others are seeing to it.”

“It’s not enough,” Fitz said, leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs as looked closer at Levi, but Levi refused to meet his gaze. 

“What is this ‘thought’ of yours?” Levi asked, wanting to be done with this. He both loved and hated Fitz’s visits. As much as he enjoyed seeing his oldest friend, he also hated that they always brought him a spark of hope that life could go back to the way it used to be.

That, however, was impossible.

“It has been long enough. If you return to London and society and show your face, then all the rumors will be put to rest and no one will talk any longer. It will also be much better for you than sitting here in this awful mausoleum. Did you know it is freezing in here? And I am not talking about just the temperature, although that is also an issue. When was this place built? Surely there was another in your possession you could have chosen, although I do appreciate how close to London you are, for I enjoy the ride.”

Levi looked at him, blinking as he tried to sift through all of the nonsense that had come out of Fitz’s mouth. 

“You think I should show my face in London? My face?” His mouth dropped open. “Surely you are jesting.”

“I would never jest,” Fitz said, pausing a moment before bursting into laughter, although Levi remained straight-faced. “Very well. I would jest. But not about this. What are you going to do, Levi, sit here alone staring at the wall for the rest of your days? How morbidly depressing.”

“It fits, doesn’t it?”

“You need heirs.”

“No, I don’t,” Levi shrugged. “I do not much care about my family line, and someone will take over what is left of the mess that remains.”

“Is that any way to honor your family?”

“They are not here to care,” he said, pausing a moment before adding, “nor will I be when an heir becomes an issue.”

His words were true, but there was more to it. To have children, he would need a wife. While he was sure that some poor woman could be forced to marry him for his title alone, he was not about to saddle anyone with the horror of staring at him for the rest of her life.

He had no choice. 

He would remain here in hiding. Alone. As it should be.