Prologue

"Will this journey ever end?" Theodora moaned. The carriage rattled over the rough thoroughfare, the landscape around them stark and bleak. "I don't know why I had to come, anyhow."

"Oh, Theo, really." Her mother ran her hand across her face, letting her exhaustion out on a sigh. "Do you really have to make the journey even more difficult than it already is?"

"The Earl of Kingsbury is simply bursting at the seams with anticipation at our arrival," her father, the Earl of Stafford, interjected. "He misses you and your sisters dearly. He hasn't seen any of you in, what? Six months?"

"Probably more than that," her mother said. Her lips were pursed, her face pale, and she clasped her hands before her as she stared straight ahead. Traveling had never suited her; she was always fretting, always sick. "But that is hardly the point. Why can't you be more like your sisters? They are always well-behaved—and not quite so temperamental."

"Because I am simply not as perfect as they are," Theo replied, pulling a face of discontent and returning her attention to the passing world.

Lady Theodora Cary, daughter of the Earl of Stafford, had just turned ten-and-four, and she felt as if the entire world was against her. She hated everything—her parents, her sisters, her governess, even the world around her. And to make matters worse, now she was being forced to visit Winterheath, home of her parents' dear friend, Gideon Steele, the Earl of Kingsbury. She could see her life mapped out in front of her, and she hated that, too.

She pouted as she stared out of the window. The road was uneven, the carriage jolting at every turn, but still, the horses were driven on. Theodora—Theo, to friends and family—hated that, and she hated the way it made a mess of her perfectly coiffed dark brown hair and her carefully arranged muslin gown.

Oh, stop it.

Her attitude irritated even herself, sometimes. She sighed. She had such a temper lately, though she had no idea why. Her maid had told her it was because she was transitioning from a child to a lady, that it was normal for someone of her age to be confused and frustrated with life.

Whatever the son, she hoped it would calm down soon. She didn't mean to be so snappy with her parents, nor so cruel to her sisters, but the words seemed to just come out of her mouth unintentionally.

She let out another sigh, watching her reflection in the window. On the cusp of womanhood, Theo was yet to come into her full beauty, though hints of it could already be seen. A storm raged in her sea-blue eyes, and freckles danced across the bridge of her nose. She even sported a mole just above her lip—real, not painted on, she'll have you know—a darkness in contrast to her alabaster skin.

"And you need not pull that face, either," her father snapped. "Really, Theo. You should consider yourself lucky. So many young ladies would like to be in your position. You'll find that out for yourself when you debut in society."

The countess tutted. "That's four years away, Geraint. I really don't think we need to talk of that just yet."

"I may not want to debut in London's society," Theo cried, turning to face them again. Why did they think they could control her entire life, just as they had controlled her as a child? "Perhaps I have other ideas about my life."

Her mother's laughter filled the carriage, the high pitch of incredulity ringing in Theo's ears.

"I do not know what is so amusing to you, Mother," she snapped. "Perhaps I would prefer to spend my days riding and reading."

She didn't know what she wanted to do, in truth. But she knew she was full of passion and desire. She wanted to learn things, to see things, to experience things! She didn't want to become like her mother—a bitter old shrew who did little other than needlepoint.

"You have no idea how real life works, Theo."

"What does that mean?" she asked, annoyed by her mother's attempt at mysticism.

"Well, who, dear child, is going to support you financially while you spend your days riding and reading?"

Theo frowned and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She still didn't know why she couldn't support herself financially, though she'd been told often enough it was impossible. She was certainly intelligent enough. She had ideas and dreams, and she had no desire to give herself up to a man simply so he could fund the lifestyle she desired. Why couldn't she do so herself? It made no sense.

"Why, Father, will continue to do so until I can—"

"Oh, for goodness' sake." The earl rolled his eyes as he interrupted her. "We can worry about your marital prospects in a year or two, but for now, can we please concentrate on today's visit? Kingsbury has been something of a second father to you. I would have thought you would care about seeing him as much as he cares for seeing you."

A big part of Theo was indeed looking forward to seeing Lord Kingsbury, though she was loath to admit that to her father. She hated to prove him right. Instead, she looked out of the window once more and muttered, "The answer remains the same. I would far rather be riding or reading or some mix of the two."

"Well, you cannot!" her mother shouted, glaring at her, her travel woes forgotten. "We all have duties in life, Theodora, and this is one of yours."

"Besides," her father said, taking the softer approach, as he always did, "it really is a treat, spending a few weeks in Rochester. Such a beautiful part of the country, don't you agree?"

Theo looked out over the barren land between here and their destination. It was far from beautiful. It was dry and prickly and untended. She knew, of course, that Rochester was not at all like that and Winterheath even less so. The Earl of Kingsbury's gardens were amongst the most beautiful in the whole of England, but the wasteland they traveled through now helped serve her point.

"I see no beauty," she muttered.

Her mother sighed loudly and pushed her spectacles further up her nose. "No," she replied sardonically. "You don't see the beauty in anything, do you?"

I do, she thought. It is only that I cannot express it.

They rode in silence for a while, and slowly but surely, the greenery around them became richer and more cared for. Theo felt the heaviness in her heart weigh her down further. Oh, how she longed to be curled with her feet beneath her, the fire roaring as she slipped into a novel and disappeared from the world.

"It's only a shame your sisters couldn't come," her father mused after a while. "But alas, their education is important."

"And mine is not?" Theo asked though she knew her formal education was coming to a close, and she would continue with her etiquette training in preparation for her coming out into the ton.

"Do you always have to be so argumentative, Theo? At a time like this! You know all this travel is no good for my nerves."

"Then perhaps we oughtn't to come again," Theo suggested with an insolent glare.

"It would be so delightful if you could set a good example for your younger sisters, Theodora," her father continued. "They do look up to you so much."

Theo shook her head. Her sisters looked up to her far too much, in her opinion, and her parents relied on her excessively. "I don't think you realize what a burden it is to be the eldest of three girls," she said. "When I am not expected to entertain them, I am expected to guide and teach them. But surely that is not my role in this family. I am not their mother nor their governess, and neither do I ever intend to be."

"Theodora, please!" her mother cried. "I really—"

But before she could say more, the carriage jolted. It was not the normal roughness of before but a physical jolt, throwing all three of them across the carriage. The countess let out a blood-curdling scream, her arms out to protect herself and her family. It was her worst fears coming to life.

But the carriage righted itself, falling back onto its two wheels with a thud. The earl, with a hand to his chest, let out a sigh of relief that was, in part, a half-laugh. "Goodness me. We're safe now." He forced a smile onto his face. "You see, darling? Nothing to worry about."

Even Theo's heart had begun to race, and she clutched onto the seat for dear life. The ride had never before been so uneven, and if she did not know better, she would have thought the coachman an inept fool. They may have returned to four wheels, but even now, the journey was far from smooth.

"Dear, sweet Lord, please save us," the countess muttered, her eyes raised to the heavens. Theo would have laughed at her sudden piety were it not for the fear in her own heart. Instead, she looked at each of her parents in turn and cemented the image of them in her mind. Though she tended toward insolence and disagreement, she loved them dearly and wanted to hold on to them for as long as she possibly could.

"It's fine," the earl said with another uneasy chuckle. "Everything is all right now. We're safe and look—we"re almost there."

Theo looked out of the window and was, to her surprise, relieved to see Winterheath looming ahead. She let out her breath and smiled. "You see, Mother," she said. "We'll be drinking tea before you—"

***

"Theodora! Theo, my darling girl!"

Everything was black, dark, and Theo groaned as the hands under her arms pulled her from the wreck. Her mouth felt thick, like it was stuffed with cotton, and every single part of her ached. She opened her eyes slowly, the light painful.

"Wh… what happened?" she croaked. The Earl of Kingsbury towered above her, his face a picture of sheer panic.

"The carriage toppled," he said quickly. "Are you all right? Does anything hurt?"

"Everything hurts," she managed.

He scooped her up in his arms and whisked her from the wreck. Pain shot through her with every movement, and she dared not look back at the disaster that had struck them.

"Mother…" she managed, but the words were difficult, and she cleared her throat.

Lord Kingsbury lowered her onto the ground as gently as he could, then stroked her hair from her face. He looked down at her with such concern and love that she herself began to panic.

"My lord, what—"

"My men are doing everything they can to pull them out. The carriage turned over completely. I've never seen anything like it, dear girl. It must have hit something or… I…"

He trailed off and glanced in the direction of the crash. His brow was deeply furrowed, a dark shadow across his features, and the ball of anxiety in Theo's chest deepened still.

No, please. Don't let it be true.

She jumped when Lord Kingsbury screamed, his voice ripping across the gardens, across the disaster. Across the noise and fuss of the men trying to save her parents.

No, no, no. Not now, not after all I said to them in the carriage.

"Anelle!" Lord Kingsbury screamed again. "Anelle!"

His wife ran over and landed on her knees beside them, all care for her delicate gown gone. With a strange calmness, Theo thought she had never seen Lady Kingsbury so emotional before. The woman was normally a master of hiding her feelings, a queen in the world of propriety and correctness.

"Oh, Theodora," Lady Kingsbury muttered. She twisted, so that she sat with her legs in front of her, then she gathered Theo from Lord Kingsbury's arms and cradled her head in her lap. "Go."

Lord Kingsbury nodded. Theo knew he wanted to be with his men, to be in the thick of the rescue. He would never forgive himself otherwise.

Lady Kingsbury stroked Theo's hair, rocking her gently back and forth. Despite herself, Theo allowed herself to be lulled into believing all was well, that this was normal. It was probably the shock or the pain—or, most likely, both, but her mind wouldn't allow her to grasp the true severity of the situation.

"It's going to be all right," Lady Kingsbury whispered as she rocked, the words repeated over and over again. "It's going to be all right, Theo, my darling. It's going to be all right."

Theo looked up at her. The lady's eyes were filled with tears, not quite spilling over onto her cheeks.

"I'm going to look after you, darling girl, and your sisters. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

Nothing will happen, Theo told herself.

"I'll protect you, all of you Cary girls, no matter what happens."

Theo's eyes fluttered closed, and she buried her face in the soft cotton of Lady Kingsbury's gown, inhaling her sweet lemon scent. It's going to be all right. They're going to be —

Her thought was cut off by another scream. Lord Kingsbury. She screwed her eyes closed tighter, not wanting to see, not wanting to admit what was happening.

No, no, no. Please. Not now. Not like this. Not after…

"It's too late," Lord Kingsbury said. His voice was low, but it carried on the wind into Theo's heart. "I'm sorry. They're gone."