Prologue

Zachary

9 December 1814

“Baroness Ashton.” I bowed and tipped my hat. Though she lost the title when her husband died and the cousin’s wife now claimed it, I couldn’t bring myself to call her anything other than what I had for twenty years. I then bowed to the ladies who accompanied her. “Mrs. Turner.” Evie. “Miss April.” Her younger sister.

I had not expected to see them here. The Season was yet a couple of months away and the sights at Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens were in no comparison to the mystical ambiance provided when events and foliage of the gardens were in full bloom.

My reasons for being here were quite modest. I came out of boredom, but I was thankful I did, and even more thankful I happened to see one of my oldest friends in the process.

Eveline . My friend.

Recently, I had been thoroughly scolded by my mate, Lord Lucas, insisting that I needed to put my history with Eveline behind me. A task much easier said than done.

“Lord Zachary,” Eveline said, appearing just as astonished, as she dipped into a curtsy. “What brings you to Vauxhall this evening?”

“I attended the string concert in the rotunda.”

“Oh, I adore the Ranelagh… the rococo architecture, the boughs and flower paintings on the ceiling, and the gilded window frames.”

“Indeed, it’s quite a sight. A much more pleasant one than the gardens this time of year. What brings your family here, besides a coach, of course?”

She laughed at my jest. Oh, how I missed hearing that. In the years we spent traversing the woods near our lands, racing horses, and playing tricks on Lucas, I had heard that precise sound daily. I shoved the dull ache aside as she continued, “We longed for an opportunity to spend an evening away from the house. Winter makes our home stifling and tiresome. I needed fresh air regardless of Vauxhall lacking its customary attractions.” I knew she spoke of the acrobatics, hot air balloons, and fireworks.

“Is your husband with you?” I nearly had to choke the words out. Yet, from what I had learned from my unrighteous investigations, he was rarely in Britain.

“No.” She peered down at her hands and a small lock of her auburn hair drifted across her forehead.

A pang struck my chest, and I had to fight my fingers from reaching up and tucking it behind her ear. I couldn’t count how many times that one lock broke free and how many times I attempted to secure it in place. It had become a game, but now it was no longer a game I could participate in… or should . Miss Eveline Brown was a married woman. She wed while I was at war, fighting Napoleon’s troops. And, despite the vexation and ire in my discovery of the union, I only had myself to blame.

She glanced back up and her brown eyes had a small layer of moisture in them. Was she in pain? “He is away on business.”

“The West Indies still?”

Her brows furrowed. “Yes, how—”

“Lucas told me.” Though, truthfully, the missives I received from the Bow Street runner I hired contained more details than my mate offered.

She smiled faintly. “Yes, Lucas and Helena visit often.” This was a silent strike. Though Evie didn’t naturally harbor ill will, I was certain she carried slight disappointment over my distance since my return. But spending time with her would only solidify my heart and I could never take that risk while Sir Colin was her husband. Oh, how I wished far too often he would succumb to some grave illness and vanish—a wicked thought I kept tucked deep within.

“Eveline?” her mother called. “We are going to take a walk inside the Turkish Tent. We’ll return shortly.” The baroness referred to the frivolous structure that had become a novelty in the Spring Gardens.

Eveline nodded.

Though I had spent countless hours alone with Evie, a lightning bolt struck me from within. My thoughts went to the night before I left for war and we were alone at the ancient oak we dubbed Cornelius. We sat on the lowest hanging branch that nearly reached the grass stems and talked. Memory of our conversation that night etched deeply within, and I have relived my mistake a thousand times.

I held out my arm for her and, while at first she hesitated to take it, she finally acquiesced as we strolled. In a sidelong glance I marveled at her beauty. She had only grown more lovely in our time apart with her womanly figure, graceful neck, angled cheekbones, and full lips. Blast, do not think of her lips.

I couldn’t help but rebuke myself for missing the chance to tell her just how I felt about her before I departed. If I had, perhaps we would be taking this walk as husband and wife. Though the reality lingered weightily… she is Sir Colin Turner’s wife, and I am her escort. Damn!

Though the trees appeared wintry and vacant, the many branches concealed us from additional visitors. This was a dangerous thought I had to quickly extinguish. For despite my rakish reputation, I was not, in truth, a rake. I had never compromised or ruined a woman. Was I flirt? Unquestionably. And was I misrepresented by the gossips? Undoubtedly.

“Why do you not visit us, Lord Zachary?” she asked pointedly.

“Evie,” I retorted. “When have you ever called me Lord Zachary. It’s just Zach, like always.”

She blushed, a sight I rarely saw in our youth. Though I always knew her to be of the fairer sex, she never shied away from the adventures Lucas and I engaged in, whether it be climbing trees, fishing, swimming in the pond that signified the point shared by all of our estates, or shooting and hunting, though that one was only accomplished without her parent’s knowledge. Even when we were all away at school, we returned and resumed every summer. I still recall the summer I realized she had become a woman, and I wondered if our wild adventures might end, but they didn’t. Although her mother tried very hard to keep her in proper gowns and behavior fit for a baron’s daughter, Eveline was different, and I loved that about her.

“I have been busy,” I mumbled.

She stopped walking, faced me, and shot me a stern look. Everyone knew I had little to consume my time since returning from war. My best mates were occupied with their wives. And while my father resided at our home with a cerebral ailment, my brother, Frederick, had the earldom quite securely in hand; or so I believed, since we rarely spoke.

I chuckled at her expression; the same one I had seen hundreds of times and urged her forward. She, more than anyone, even Luke, knew when I was lying.

“Okay,” I held up my hands in defense. “I have been a cad.”

Her other hand moved over and now both her hands wrapped around my arm bringing her precariously closer. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered. “I’ve missed my best friend.”

In truth, we had grown apart, even before I left for the continent. I selfishly relished in the considerable attention I received from the ladies of the ton, and Eveline successfully toiled to avoid any and all social engagements. We were rarely seen in the same room.

When I turned my head in her direction, this brought her face mere inches away.

Eveline tugged me to a stop. “You appear weary, Zach.” She brushed her finger across my forehead and down my cheek. “You have dark circles under your eyes and the light in your eyes has disappeared.”

Though what I knew of Eveline’s character was that, unlike other women I tarried with, she did not tease with intent. Her touches and proximity came with true kindness, but the effect was the same.

I swallowed hard.

Scanning the contours of her face, I cherished everything about her. The way her deep brown eyes appeared darker framed by her black eyelashes, the freckle beneath her right eye that seemed so misplaced it was often described by her mother as a beauty mark, but Evie despised it. The small dimple in her left cheek that only appeared when she laughed. It had become a game of mine to get it to surface. And that smile. When genuinely offered, it had the power to weaken even the strongest of men.

My body hypnotically leaned forward, barely a breath from her lips, and, in an instant, I felt a hand press against my chest, halting my movement.

Devil, take it! What was I doing?

“Tell me about your search for Lord Jaxon, Zach.”

She didn’t bring attention to my offense and thwarted it precisely how I expected her to. The woman was a paragon of integrity and would honor her marriage regardless of how lonely she was.

Of course, had I kissed her, I would have enjoyed every second of it until we parted, then I would have been plagued with regret for encouraging her to be unfaithful to her fool of a husband.