Prologue

London, England

Thursday, April 18th, 1743

“Come now, Rosalyn,” Lieutenant Long said, his wide grey eyes pleading with her for a small boon. “I am leaving for Scotland tonight, and I would take a kiss from you to keep me company on the frigid Scottish nights.”

In the morning light, Rosalyn de Clare looked around the small London park. Her gaze shifting from their horses, grazing on tendrils of fresh spring grass at the base of a tree to beyond, where fashionable men and women strolled along the path. “I would not want to cause a scandal.”

“One kiss. After all the attention I have given you as of late, it is at least my due.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him.

Rosalyn struggled in his arms. “I did not ask you to pay any particular attention to me. Please, James, release me now before someone sees us.”

“Everyone on the path has moved on. No one is near at present.” Lieutenant Long’s gaze shifted from her face to the parted edges of her collar before descending to where the fabric of her riding habit moulded over her breast.

Heat flooded Rosalyn’s cheeks. “Truly, James, you must release me,” she said tartly, starting to feel very uncomfortable with how alone they were behind the ancient oak tree. She never should have agreed to come with him on this outing without a maid or a footman.

He shifted closer, and Rosalyn’s heart jammed in her throat. His mouth descended towards hers. His hand drifted from her waist to the nape of her neck. Instead of fear, curiosity flared. She had never kissed a man before. His lips were hard as they slid against her lips, claiming her, marking her as his.

Uncertain of what to do with her hands, she left them to dangle at her sides as the kiss became harder, more insistent. It was then that she felt an unaccountable prickle of alarm scratch down her spine. She brought her hands up and pushed hard against James’s chest when a hot, hard part of him pressed against her. He gripped her arms and with one hand, tried to shove her down, while the other hand fumbled with the fall of his trousers.

For an instant, Rosalyn was paralysed by shock and fear, until a spark of rage erupted inside her. She twisted her shoulders, trying to free herself from his grip, but instead of freedom, his fingers dug into the fabric of her gown. The sleeve tore, exposing her shoulder.

Lust filled his gaze as his hand slipped from her shoulder to cup her partly exposed breast.

“No!” This man wanted more than a kiss from her. Rosalyn jerked her knee upward with furious strength, and she landed a blow to the most vulnerable part of him. His eyes flared as he howled and jerked back. She pulled out of his arms, her heart racing.

“What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

Rosalyn’s breath hitched as she looked to the left, horrified to see that what she had hoped to have been a private moment, was seen by none other than the Duchess of Leeds and several ladies and gentlemen in her company.

James, recovering far more quickly than Rosalyn, smiled at the great lady then nodded, as though nothing untoward had just happened. “Good day, Your Grace.”

The duchess returned the lieutenant’s smile, but when she turned to Rosalyn, her eyes narrowed with disdain. “Scandalous behaviour. Your brother will not be pleased.”

Rosalyn clutched the torn edges of her gown, trying to conceal her exposed flesh. Her heart pounded in her ears. The world swam before her eyes as she swayed on her feet.

“I should have expected such behaviour from you,” the duchess continued to berate her. Behind that woman, Rosalyn could hear the swelling of whispers that rippled on the morning breeze. Unable to bear their comments a moment longer, she forced her dizziness away and darted to her horse, jumped up onto the saddle, then fled past the startled, staring duchess and her friends.

Her heart thundering in her chest the entire journey home, Rosalyn raced to her room, locked the door, then buried her head in her pillows. Why had she ever agreed to go to the park with Lieutenant Long today? And why had she not run away when he had asked her for a kiss? Rosalyn knew, without a doubt, that whatever events happened next would not bode well for her.

Three hours later, she was summoned to the library by her brother. Upon entering the chamber, she saw his eyes narrow with annoyance and her stomach sank. She sat in the chair across from his desk. “You wished to see me?” Rosalyn tried to keep her voice from trembling.

“You have humiliated me to the depths of my soul with your wanton behaviour in the park today,” Hugh de Clare said brusquely.

“Hugh, I—”

“I do not want to hear your excuses. You played fast and loose and now you must suffer the consequences.”

“No, Hugh. You do not understand—”

His fist came crashing down against the table. “No, it is you who does not understand. You are ruined. Beyond repair. All of London is gossiping about your little indiscretion, and as a result I have done the only thing I can.”

“Which is?” Rosalyn tried to gather her wits, to find a way to reach through her brother’s anger, to the young man who had raised her since the death of their parents.

“I have acted within my rights as your guardian,” he bit out as his face flushed. “I’ve convinced Lieutenant Long that it is in his best interest to marry you, immediately.”

“You what?” she gasped, clutching the arms of the chair to control her shaking.

Her brother did not seem to notice or, more likely, did not care. “The only concession the military man asked was that you meet him in Scotland for the ceremony because his regiment was heading north forthwith.” Hugh narrowed his gaze on her. “You have two days to pack your things. I have arranged for several of my finest men to accompany you on your journey north.”

“Why are you doing this, Hugh?” Rosalyn asked with a shimmer of tears in her eyes, trying to understand her brother’s persistent cruelty to her. “I have done everything you ever asked of me, all while trying not to be an imposition.”

He stared past her at the wall with blank indifference. “I have asked Miss Amelia Jenkins to marry me, and she has accepted on the condition that she would not have to share this house with you. So, this arrangement with Lieutenant Long is auspicious for both of us. You will have a husband, and I will no longer be responsible for you when I take a wife.”

Rosalyn swallowed hard, trying to force back the tears that fell onto her cheeks. “Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?”

“Not a damn thing,” Hugh bit out. “The arrangements have been made. You will join Lieutenant Long in Scotland in two days’ time.”