Prologue

Autumn 1815, Hampshire, England

For the first time in his life, Dr. Xavier Sinclair was uncertain of his future.

He followed his four brothers from the carriage, and stared up at his childhood home, Wyndhill Park. The dark brick manor, rising three stories above him, more a mansion than a home, was filled with both pleasant and frightening memories.

“I am in need of a brandy,” Micah, the middle brother, announced, to which the others murmured their agreements. Xavier said nothing and took his time in following them inside. He and his brothers had just returned from a visit with their only sister, Elaina, who was married with two children of her own.

When they’d first gone to her home, Elaina had been plagued with amnesia for three years. Xavier had attempted to treat her and cure her of the condition but he had failed. Only when Elaina’s husband, and their family friend, Lady Olivia Westbrook, had gone against Xavier’s instructions did Elaina improve and regain the memories she had lost.

It still stung that they’d been able to help her when Xavier could not.

Lady Olivia, a most obstinate and disagreeable woman, had only read journals, but never treated anyone. As for Elaina’s husband, he was too blinded by emotion to heed Xavier’s advice. Yet, they had been correct, and Xavier had been wrong, which left him questioning whether he should continue in his work. He had dedicated his entire life to the pursuit of treatments for madness, depression, hysteria, and all ailments of the mind so that others did not suffer and die as his mother had.

Except, his knowledge had failed him when it came to Elaina.

“You are getting rather long in the tooth.”

Xavier stopped at the threshold of the library and glanced around to note that each of his brothers was lounging about, a glass of brandy in hand.

“I can only assume you mean Lucian, as he is the eldest,” Xavier offered and made his way to the sideboard where he poured his own glass of brandy.

“I mentioned that I am considering purchasing Greenhaven Cottage,” Asher, the fourth born brother announced. “Lucian is not in agreement.”

Greenhaven Cottage was the estate that neighbored theirs and had stood vacant though was sometimes let in the summer. “Why the purchase?” Xavier asked.

“We could extend the stables, more land for the horses, or maybe build our own track for racing,” he answered. “I would also live in the cottage.”

“There is no need for you to move from Wyndhill Park,” Lucian argued.

“Ah, but there is. You cannot wait much longer to wed. I am certain that your future wife does not want four younger brothers underfoot.”

“There is no need for me to wed when I am certain one of you will see to the task.” Lucian frowned before he took a drink of his brandy.

“You are the Earl of Garretson,” Silas, the youngest reminded him. “Therefore, it is up to you to wed and produce an heir and a spare.”

“It is a rule, is it not?” Micah asked. “I am certain that is a rule.”

“If it were, several titles would have been retired by now,” Lucian argued. “Yes, it is preferable, but not necessary. As we all share the same bloodline, especially father, and none of us were born on the wrong side of the blanket, any of you could marry and produce the heir apparent. Therefore, it is not necessary that I do so just because I happened to be born first.”

“And the very reason I am happy to have been born fourth.” Asher grinned.

“It will not be me,” Xavier announced. “I have no desire to wed, nor father a child. Further, I already own a comfortable home in London. Therefore, there is no concern with me being underfoot.”

As the spare, Xavier had assumed that if something did happen to Lucian, it would fall to him to see that there was an Earl of Garretson for the next generation, but as Lucian pointed out, any of them could see to the task and he was quite happy to allow one of his brothers to do so.

“I am only twenty. I certainly cannot consider a wife, or any woman, at this juncture in my life,” Silas argued.

“You speak as though you are a virgin,” Asher snorted.

An unanticipated blush spread across the face of the youngest brother.

“You are!” Asher pointed. “That must be rectified right away and once done, you will be considering women quite often.”

“If you enjoy women so well, then you should wed and go about begetting heirs in Greenhaven Cottage,” Silas challenged.

“The only breeding I am concerned with is that of our racers. The bloodline of Hercules is the one that needs to be continued. It is our future and fortune.”

“That leaves Micah to see to future generations,” Lucian offered with a grin.

“It will not be me,” he insisted. “Have you forgotten my injury.”

Xavier’s stomach tightened. How could he not have considered… “Your lower back, from battle. Does that mean that you can no longer…it has happened to others?” Good Lord, to be unable to enjoy intimacy for the rest of one’s life would truly be depressing, and Micah was only four and twenty.

“I can assure you that only my back was injured. However, pain does make the act difficult,” Micah ground out.

“Then have her ride you.” Asher grinned. “It is often my preference as it leaves my hands free to fully enjoy that which is before me and to pleasure her in the most delightful ways.”

Micah glared at his brother but did not respond.

“One of us must produce a son,” Lucian insisted. “Therefore, I have a proposition.”

There was no offer large enough to make Xavier reconsider his bachelor intentions.

“Harwood Hall,” Lucian announced. “It remains empty yet houses servants in the event one of us visits.”

Sometimes Xavier forgot the family owned a second estate.

“It is not entailed, therefore, it can be given or sold to another.” Lucian’s lips quirked as he looked to Xavier. “You have often complained that those who suffer from madness are only driven further into it once they enter Bedlam. The manor is certainly large enough that you could establish your own hospital. It does boast twenty bedchambers.”

Xavier only offered a nod but would not commit. Especially when it might require him to wed.

Lucian then looked to Micah. “As Harwood Hall is near Eastbourne, you have only a short stroll to the beach, where you prefer to walk. The weather is also mild so you will not be plagued with additional pain brought on by the cold.”

“We have beaches not far from here,” Micah reminded him. “I stroll them often.”

Lucian frowned and turned his attention to another brother. “Asher, as you know, there are large stables, which remain empty, and land for the horses to graze.”

Xavier narrowed his eyes as he realized Lucian was dangling the prize before each brother with a solution to concerns previously voiced as incentive.

“The same is available on the neighboring estate,” Asher reminded him.

“Why should I want it?” Silas asked with a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Income,” Lucian answered. “You would become a landed gentleman and not need to decide on a profession.”

“What exactly is your proposal, Lucian?” Xavier asked.

“The first of my brothers to wed and produce a son will receive Harwood Hall.”

“Say one of us does so, but then you marry and have a son?”

“My son will inherit the title and Wyndhill Park. Ownership of Harwood Hall will be given to the first brother to father a son no matter how long it takes.”

“Well, I have no need for such an estate. My work is in London.” Xavier tossed back what remained of his brandy.

“Nor I,” they each echoed.

“It will be one of us,” Lucian predicted. “The odds of none of us finding love is nearly impossible and when that happens, I will be happy for you.”

“You cannot simply sit around and hope that one of us marries,” Micah insisted.

Lucian settled back in his chair and cradled his glass of brandy. “Two years. If none of you manage to meet the terms set forth for ownership of Harwood Hall, I will take myself off to London, endure a bloody Season instead of just attending Parliament, and marry the most pleasant woman I can find.”

Having to endure a Season would be hell for Lucian, which is why he was so willing to part with an estate.