Prologue

M iss Elena Burrows sat beside the fountain in the garden at Haverston House and lifted her face to the sky. The sunlight warmed her skin, spreading over her in waves of delicious heat. It was the day of her birth—the day she would officially be launched into society, finally able to attend balls, soirées, and picnics. She could even go to the theater and the opera. She could hardly wait. At long last, at eight and ten, she would enjoy more freedom—or at least, as much freedom as society’s dictates allowed a young lady.

“You look lovely.”

Elena started at the sound of a gentleman’s voice. Not because she feared it, but because she had not expected it. She had believed herself alone in the garden. Turning, she met his gaze. The man before her was the very one she was most pleased to see. His dark brown hair gleamed in the sunlight, and those pale blue eyes warmed her far more than the sun’s rays… The Earl of Northfield was the love of her young life. Elena had adored him for years, and she knew he felt the same.

He held her heart, and she believed his belonged to her. Six years her senior and her brother’s closest friend, she had known since the moment they met that she would always love him. He had stolen her heart with his kindness—and it certainly helped that he was perhaps the handsomest man she had ever had the privilege to gaze upon. That meeting was years past, when he had first come to visit with Phillip during their time at Eton. He had been but four and ten, and she a young girl with a new fascination.

Even then, she found herself dreaming of what their future might be. Despite her innocence, she believed that one day she would grow up to marry this man. They were far too young to understand it fully, but still, she yearned for him. “Theo,” she spoke his name as if it were a benediction, for indeed it was to her. “I did not expect to see you.”

His ready smile made her heart skip a beat. “How could I stay away on such a momentous occasion?”

“And what would that be?” she asked, though she knew precisely what he meant. She could not resist teasing him.

“It is your birthday, is it not?” He lifted a brow. “If I am mistaken, do inform me immediately.” He held out a small box and waved it in the air. “For if I am wrong, I must return this at once. It would not do for you to receive a gift on a day that is not special.”

She leapt to her feet and tried to snatch the box from his hands, but he was much taller, with a greater reach. “Give it to me,” Elena demanded.

“But it’s not?—”

“You know perfectly well it is my birthday,” she insisted. “Please, Theo,” she begged softly. “Let me have my gift.”

“Could I ever deny you anything?” he said, his voice softening. Those blue eyes of his seemed to pierce her very soul. How could she fight the inevitability of her love for him? She could not—and truthfully, she did not wish to. There was nothing she desired more than to belong to Theo. He handed her the box. “I thought of you when I saw it and knew you must have it.”

She opened the lid and sighed. Resting on a bed of crushed velvet lay a locket of the finest gold. In the center was a bright ruby fashioned against a round locket, like a star bursting from the center. “It is beautiful,” she murmured in awe. “I love it.”

“There’s a miniature inside,” he told her. “Open it.”

She undid the clasp, and inside was indeed a miniature. It was of the two of them. “When did you have this done?”

“A while ago,” he replied. “It’s a good likeness, don’t you think?”

She nodded, tracing her fingers over it. They were depicted in profile, gazing at each other with a look of profound affection. She hadn’t realized she looked at him in such a way, but she recognized that adoring expression on his handsome face. She had seen it often enough to know it was genuine. “It is perfect,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He trailed a finger over her lips. “I wish I could kiss you.”

“You can,” she encouraged. “I am eight and ten now. We can marry. All you need do is ask my father…”

“Not yet, love,” he said gently. “You should have at least one season. Enjoy the pleasures of being a young debutante. You deserve all the world has to offer. Don’t worry. I will ask him. How could I not?” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I love you too much to walk away without trying to claim forever with you. But I want so much for you, too.”

“I do not want anyone else.” Her smile widened. “I can wait though. I have waited this long, have I not?” She stepped closer to him. “We have our whole lives. A few more months will be nothing in comparison to forever.”

“Precisely.” He took the pendant from the box. “Let me see it upon you. I want to see it lying against your lovely skin.”

She allowed him to fasten the necklace around her neck. She touched the starburst, feeling comforted by its presence. It was the finest gift she had ever received. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know if I remembered to say that, but I shall treasure this always.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I plan to shower you with gifts. This will be but one of many.”

“I need no gifts.” She gazed into his adoring eyes. “All I need is you.”

“But you shall have me and all I can give. I insist.” Theo smiled. “One takes care of those they love, and I love you more than anything.”

Elena could scarcely believe her good fortune. This man… “You are almost too perfect to be real.”

“Believe in me, darling,” he said. “I promise I shall love you all my life. There will be no one else for me.” He sighed. “But I must go now. We shall speak again later. There is some estate business that demands my attention. Until later, my love.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Enjoy your day.”

The smile lingered on her face long after he had left, filling her with joy—until the worst happened. She was eight and ten, a woman grown. She could finally marry the man she loved. But fortune was not on her side, and she did not marry Theo.

Her father had other plans. Plans she discovered that very day, not long after Theo left. Her life changed—and not for the better. Yes, she married, but not as she had dreamed. She did not have a season. No, Elena had been sold to an old man desperate for a young wife. Her father had lost a great sum of money to the Earl of Dryden, and the earl generously offered to forgive the debt if Elena were given to him in marriage.

That night, Elena was wed to the Earl of Dryden by special license. She was forced to endure the old earl’s lecherous attentions and a marriage bed that left her cold. She’d had a chance at love, and her father had ruined her life instead.

On her birthday, when she had turned eight and ten, she became Elena Wilson, the Countess of Dryden. That new woman was not one to suffer fools. She had to grow up fast, and become a woman not to be trifled with. It was the only way she could survive her new fate. She held her head high and pretended she was exactly where she had always wanted to be—even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

She hated her father. She began to despise most men. And she ensured she never saw the Earl of Northfield again. Her heart could not bear the sight of the only man she would ever love—not while she was bound to a man who repulsed her and subjected her to his loathsome desires. Her life was no longer her own, and if she hoped to survive, she had to bury all her hopes and dreams. She had to close her heart and feel nothing. Most of all, she had to forget what true happiness felt like, for the memory was far too painful. Some things were best left buried…