Prologue

Henry looked at his reflection for one last time in the looking glass, puffing his chest out a little. Joy filled his heart as he thought about what this day would bring. He would start out just as he was now but would end the day as a married fellow, with a beautiful bride at his side.

I can hardly wait to take Rachel back to the estate, he thought to himself, smiling at his reflection. We will soon be able to begin our life together.

Lifting his chin, Henry turned away from the looking glass and made from the room, walking down to the hall to make his way towards the drawing room where his mother would be waiting.

"Well, mother, what do you think?" He grinned and then turned around slowly, so that his mother could take him in. "I do hope that I will do well?"

Much to his surprise, the Duchess did not so much as smile. Rather, her gaze was heavy, her brows furrowing as she came across the room to him. "Fairglen, I must speak with you."

Henry frowned, his smile drifting away. "About what, Mother? Surely there cannot be too much to be said on a day like this! I am to make my way to the church within the hour and – "

"I do not think you can," his mother broke in, shaking her head. "My dear son, you must sit down before I speak with you. Please."

A cloud instantly formed around Henry as he did as his mother asked, taking in her serious expression. Her blue eyes, so like his own, were fixed and steady, though her lips were pursed as though she was not quite certain how she was to begin.

"Henry." She took in a deep breath and Henry's stomach instantly began to roll, for it was not often that his mother called him by his Christian name. She had referred to him by his title ever since he had taken it on.

"Yes?" When she said nothing, Henry tilted his head to study her. "It seems to me that there is something heavy upon your mind, Mother. Please, speak of it without hesitation."

His mother shook her head. "It causes me a good deal of pain to have to speak of this, my son, but I do not think that the marriage will be taking place today."

"Because….?"

"Because last evening, your betrothed was found in a somewhat compromising position." The words began to spill out of her mouth now, her eyes searching his as she came to sit beside him. "Your darling Rachel is no longer suitable to be your bride."

Henry could not breathe. His chest was tight, his breathing restricted as he looked back into his mother's eyes, waiting for her to laugh and shake her head and tell him that this had been some sort of cruel joke, something to take his nervousness away from him.

She did not.

"I am sorry," she continued, when he said nothing. "My dear, I have always said that the daughter of an Earl was beneath you, that she would not have had the same standing in either propriety or status and it seems I have been proven right. How much I wish that it was not so, however. I do not want you to have any cause for pain but yet – "

"This cannot be true." Henry rose to his feet urgently, rubbing one hand over his hair as he fought for clarity. There were so many – too many – thoughts tumbling through his mind for him to make any sense of what his mother was saying to him and yet, at the same time, the realization slowly began to force its way to the front of his mind.

"It is true." With a heavy sigh, the Duchess shook her head. "Had you chosen a bride from the Marquess of Lechingham's family, or the Marquess of Marchmont, or even the Duke of Youngston's family, then this situation might never have occurred."

With one hand, Henry scrubbed at his eyes. His mother had always insisted that he consider marrying a young lady with the highest of titles, but he had found himself drawn to Lady Rachel, the daughter of the Earl of Hindford. Now, it seemed, he had been foolish in his choice, had let himself believe that she felt more for him that she truly did.

"I cannot believe this," he said out loud, though his mother only sighed heavily rather than denying that there was any truth to what had been said. "She is to marry me this morning , and yet last night, she… " He squeezed his eyes closed, unable to even consider what it was that his betrothed had done.

"She clearly is not the sort of young lady that you thought," his mother said quietly, so as not to inflict any more pain upon him. "I cannot believe that this is the first time that she would have done such a thing. More than likely, this is something that she has kept hidden from you. It was only by chance that she was discovered."

Henry looked to his mother, his vision blurring a little at the edges. "Who found her?"

The Duchess closed her eyes. "I did."

"What?" The word exploded from his mouth. "How? When?"

His mother let out a small sigh and then shook her head, wordlessly.

"I must know," Henry insisted, coming a little closer to her. "Please, Mother, do not hide this from me. I must know everything."

After a moment – and another long breath – the Duchess looked up at him and began. "Last evening, as you are aware, I was at a soiree, hosted by Lord and Lady Kettridge. They are both so refined and genteel and thus, it was to my great shock that I made my way into the parlor, only to find a gentleman standing with his arms around a young lady. To my horror, another gentleman pushed past me as I made to come a little further into the room."

It was as though Henry had been punched hard in the stomach, forcing him to bend double just a little.

"There is more, my son."

Henry closed his eyes tightly, stepping back a little. "How can there be more?"

"As much as this pains me, I must tell you." His mother set one hand to his arm. "I do not know who the gentleman was who pushed past me, but the other gentleman, the one standing with his arms around your betrothed…" A slight tremble overtook her as she shuddered lightly. "It was Luke."

Those words gave Henry such a blow, he staggered backwards and, with weakness coursing through him, ended up sitting down heavily in one of the chairs by the wall.

"I am so very sorry, my dear son," his mother whispered, her eyes bright with tears. "I do not know what else to say."

Henry shook his head, unable to make even a single noise. Luke, his younger brother, the one he had always depended on, trusted in and leaned on upon occasion was the one who had stolen Rachel from him? He could not take it in.

"There can be no wedding today," the Duchess finished, closing her eyes and then, after a moment, sitting down opposite him. "Not for you, at least."

Henry's heart lurched and he looked back at his mother, seeing her nod slowly.

Every part of his soul ripped into tiny pieces. He was not to marry Rachel, then, but his brother would.

"I presume a Special License has been granted?" he asked, his voice hoarse as again, his mother nodded. "And this all because he could not help but attempt to steal her from me?"

"I do not think that your brother is the only one to blame," came the response. "Recall that I told you a gentleman rushed from the room as I came in? He must have been in there with her before your brother came in."

A hard anger raced up Henry's spine and he shuddered violently. This was not the Rachel he knew! This description of her was so against all that she had been to him, of all that he knew her to be.

It seems as though I did not know her at all.

"It will be a heavy burden for you to bear now, knowing that she will be wed to Luke but you must consider yourself saved from what could have been a disastrous marriage," his mother finished, sounding a little more satisfied as though she were relieved that her duty was done. Henry could not imagine the strife which had been caused to his mother by what she had seen. "He does wish to speak to you, however."

Henry's eyes flared. "Luke?"

The Duchess nodded. "I have insisted that he wait in the parlour, for I did not think it fair that his demand to speak with you took precedence."

Henry was on his feet in a moment, striding towards the door and yanking it open so hard, it slammed back against the wall. His mother's protest fell upon deaf ears as he made his way to the parlor, flinging open the door to find his brother already waiting for him.

"It is not as you think."

"Mother has told me everything," Henry growled, his hands curling into fists as he fought the urge to place them around his brother's neck and squeeze. " Everything."

Luke shook his head. "It is not as she believes either. Neither she nor you will give me opportunity to speak, to explain."

"There is nothing to explain! There is nothing that you could say which would make this situation acceptable!" Henry bellowed, red hot anger burning through his veins as he advanced on his brother. "You and my betrothed were found together and now, you are to marry her simply so as to save her reputation… as well as your own, no doubt, for you were never known as a rogue."

Luke did not move as Henry continued to approach, a steadiness in his eyes which made Henry's anger burn all the hotter. Henry's whole body grew tight, ready to plant his brother a facer such was his anger. He saw Luke's eyes flare, perhaps becoming aware of Henry's intention, but all the same, he did not move. Instead, Luke simply folded his arms over his chest and gazed back steadily at Henry.

"To think that you, my one and only brother, my friend , would steal her from me like this!" Henry cried, throwing up both hands rather than striking his brother. "Though mayhap I should thank you for what you are doing, for it means that I will not be tied to a despicable, lying creature like her. " Henry could not even bring himself to speak her name, his heart tearing all over again.

"You are wrong, Henry!"

Rather than Henry reaching out to grab at his brother, it was Luke who grabbed Henry by the lapels, shaking him violently.

"Wrong, do you hear me?" Luke exclaimed, his eyes wide, piercing into Henry's own. "I know that this must be more than painful but if you would only listen – "

"Leave me!" Pushing his brother, hard, Henry sliced the air between them, his breathing heavy. "From this day on, I have not only no betrothed but I have no brother either."

Luke shook his head, rubbing one hand over his eyes. "This is all a mistake, brother. Please, do not do this. You know my character. You know who I am. Do you really think that I would do something like this?"

Henry turned on his heel, stalking back towards the door. "It seems that I have been mistaken, brother," he said, hoarsely, the blurring of his vision returning to the edges of his eyes. "I have been mistaken about you and I have been mistaken about her. Marry her, then. But do not expect me to ever forgive you."

Without another word, he walked out of the room and made his way to his study. Ringing the bell, he waited until the butler arrived, keeping his composure as steady as he could.

"Have my things prepared."

The butler blinked. "Your things, Your Grace?"

"I am to return to my estate," Henry told him. "This morning, in fact. There is to be no wedding. I wish to leave within the hour."

"The hour?"

Henry nodded, caring very little for the difficulties that his servants would now face as they were forced to scurry and rush about to have everything ready for him within the short amount of time he had given them.

"Very well, Your Grace." The butler nodded and then stepped away, leaving Henry alone in the quietness of his study.

Stepping forward, Henry locked the door, having no desire to see or speak with either his brother or his mother. He did not want to hear either explanations or excuses. All he wanted now was silence.