Prologue

London, England

December 1802

"Move over, Miranda! I can't see!"

Miranda rolled her eyes and tossed her brown hair. Her glare pinned her younger sister where she was fidgeting on the staircase. They had both snuck out of bed in order to get a better look at the party taking place downstairs. Elaine was eager to see the finery of the guests and the dancing. Miranda yearned for something else.

"I swear, if you elbow me one more time—"

"That sounds suspiciously like a threat, Miss Applegate. What would your mother say?"

Miranda gasped as she pivoted her head around to see the speaker through the spindles of the railing. For a moment, she was unable to speak. Mr. Anthony Gravehill had long been the subject of her childish fascination. At least, that's what some might claim it was, but she knew better. It was love. True love, and it couldn't be distinguished by anything like age or maturity. From the very first moment he had appeared on her family doorstep as the guest of her elder brother, Jacob, at home from school, she'd thought of little else.

But then, how could anyone be immune to that stubborn lock of dark hair that wanted to fall over his forehead, or those mesmerizing green eyes that captured her and pulled her into his very soul? He might have been the younger son of a viscount, but he was her future, and anyone who said differently would hear about it from her.

There was only one problem. She couldn't seem to speak around him. She knew she ought to respond to his teasing now, but words simply failed her whenever he was near.

Her younger sister, however, didn't have that problem. "Miranda is being mean!"

She spun on her. "Me?" she snapped. "Elaine, if you were any more annoying, you should be a fly next to my ear when I'm trying to sleep!"

"Come now, children…"

That brought Miranda's head back around. "Pardon me, sir, but I am nearly fifteen years old. Hardly a child."

His lips twitched, and she was held captive by how well shaped and masculine they appeared. He truly was magnificent. "I stand corrected. Forgive me for my error."

Miranda yearned to sigh, because of course, she would forgive him for any sort of transgression.

"She loves you."

Miranda's stomach dropped to her feet as she spun toward her ten-year-old sister. "Elaine!"

"What?" She shrugged. "It's true." She then proceeded to sing. "Miranda and Anthony sitting in a tree…"

With a gasp of outrage, Miranda lowered her voice. "Don't you dare finish that sentence if you don't want me to tell Mama what really happened to her pearl necklace."

Elaine abruptly closed her mouth tightly, although her blue gaze was mutinous. Miranda had no doubt that she would come to suffer the consequences of her actions toward her younger sister, but it would be worth it not to be completely humiliated in front of the man she loved.

"You love me, do you?"

Miranda's head swiveled back around to Anthony, who was wearing a crooked grin.

Rather than slink back to her room in embarrassment, she lifted her chin and said, "Of course. I care for you just as I would my brother."

"That's reassuring," he said softly, his gaze growing distant. "Because I shall be leaving to serve in the Royal Navy just after Christmas."

Immediately, Miranda's stomach dropped to her feet. She knew that Jacob was enlisting, which was heartbreaking enough, but to know that Anthony would be in danger as well… It was almost too much to bear.

She dared to reach a hand out to him through the spindles. With tears in her eyes, she spoke the truest words in her heart. "Please say you'll be careful."

He smiled gently as he accepted her offering. "I promise. How else might I come back to you?"

With a tweak of her nose, he released her and returned to the party.

Miranda, on the other hand, was determined that she fulfill the part of her vow that remained unspoken between them. "I'll wait for you," she whispered to his retreating back. "Forever, if I must."