Prologue

The Thorneshire Estate, 1806

His cheeks hurt.

It struck Calum suddenly, the realization that he had never smiled this hard in his nine-and-twenty years on earth. This level of happiness, this zest for his future. He'd meandered through his days lazily, happy only to be able to open his eyes each morning. There was never anything that gave him true, unending pleasure.

Now, the subject of all his happiness stood across the room bearing a smile just as broad.

Calum could not hear what was being said. He only saw her, his eyes tracing the outline of her face as if he hadn't spent the past year committing her to his memory. He could close his eyes and imagine the gentle curve of her cheeks, her upturned nose, the exact hue of her honey-blond hair currently styled in those lovely curls he adored on her. Calum had a lifetime ahead of him to admire every inch of her, watching her change throughout the years they would spend together. He intended to start right now.

He couldn't believe that Lady Violet Henderson was now his wife.

"Wouldn't you say, Your Grace?"

"Certainly," Calum murmured absently. He didn't know who he was talking to or what about. He didn't care. He watched as Violet tilted her head to the side and nodded to whatever her friend was saying to her. But her eyes trailed as well, as if she could not focus either. Eventually, they landed on Calum and her smile widened.

Calum straightened. After a year of courtship, his heart still skipped a beat when she looked at him. Her eyes narrowed a little with that mischievous glint that always excited him. It took everything in him not to leap out of his chair and go to her side.

They would have plenty of time together later, after all. Tomorrow, after the wedding breakfast was over, they would be heading to Scotland for their honeymoon. Alone with each other, they would have all the time in the world for private smiles and loving embraces.

Violet turned slightly to face him and suddenly, no one else existed. Calum ran his hand down his face, shifting in his chair as he watched her slowly lift her glass of wine to her lips. She always knew how to taunt him.

This wedding breakfast could not be over quickly enough.

With a wink, Violet turned her attention back to her friend and Calum tried to do the same today. He realized with a start that it was Stephen by his side, his cousin and estate steward, who did not seem to notice Calum's absent-mindedness. He focused once more on the conversation and tried to keep his eyes off his wife. Which was easier said than done.

Calum counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours until they were finally alone. At last, the wedding breakfast came to an end. By that time, the sun was slowly giving way to darkness as evening came upon them. Violet went upstairs to change out of her wedding dress while Calum remained in the parlor with his third glass of wine in his hand.

That was when he heard the scream.

At first, he froze, unable to come to terms with what he'd heard. Then realization sank like cold stones in the pit of his stomach. He dropped his wine, hardly hearing the crash of glass as he raced out of the room.

Hallways flew past him in a blur. He didn't think it possible for him to move so fast but, within what felt like seconds, he burst through the door of their bedchamber. Calum swallowed past the lump in his throat, his heart hammering.

Violet lay lifelessly on the bed.

"What happened?" He heard the words come from his lips even though he didn't realize that he'd spoken. His limbs seemed to turn to mush as he made his way to her side. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know, Your Grace." Mrs. Dawson, the housekeeper, sounded as distraught as he felt. He could hear the tears in her voice. She shifted out of his way but she kept her hands in Violet's legs, shaking her gently. "I stepped out of the room for a second and when I returned…"

"The physician." Calum's voice was raw, hardly audible. But she nodded as if she knew exactly what he wanted.

"Yes, Your Grace." In a flash, Mrs. Dawson was out the door, leaving him alone with his wife's lifeless body.

She was ashen. Her beautiful lips were white, her body cold to the touch. Calum pulled her into his arms, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision. The truth of the situation settled in the back of his mind but he refused to acknowledge it. He would wait. He wouldn't dare to acknowledge the possibility.

Calum didn't know how long he spent there with her in his arms but all of a sudden, the room was full. Mrs. Dawson and Stephen were there, and Dr. Percival Marsh was gently taking Violet from his arms. Calum made a groan of protest but he knew he couldn't do anything. Stephen was already by his side, pulling him out of the room.

"He needs space and time, Calum," Stephen was saying. "She will be all right."

Calum shook his head and wiped his tears. He didn't dare to acknowledge the truth lingering in the back of his head but it settled in his heart.

By the time the physician emerged from the bedchamber, Calum took one look at his face and the fragile pieces left of his heart crumbled into dust.