PROLOGUE
“Did you really think that it would be that easy?”
A hard grip closed on Letitia Knightley’s arm as the words were snarled in her ear. She froze, her hands clutching at the worn satchel that carried her—admittedly meager—possessions.
She’d hoped it would be that easy—or at least that she could avoid this confrontation. She’d almost made it, too. The carriage that was due to take her to the nearest posting inn would be here any moment.
She fought to keep her voice level and her face impassive as she addressed Lord Peter Dugley, who was, as of today, herformeremployer.
She’d timed her resignation very carefully, and she had hoped to be gone from this place before Lord Dugley returned from a business trip.
“I am not sure what you mean, my lord,” she said carefully. His grip hurt. She’d have bruises on her arm tomorrow.
She could smell liquor on his breath as he leaned even closer to her, his chest coming to brush against her shoulder as he loomed over her. Never mind that it was not yet noon—he’d never cared when it came to his excesses. Just as he never cared about things like decorum or honor.
“You thought you could sneak out like a thief in the night, without me any the wiser,” he hissed. “You thought that would be the end of it, did you? That I would merely forget about our little… arrangement?”
He put a world of malice on this last word, and she tried not to cringe. They categorically didnothave an arrangement. She wanted nothing less than anarrangementwith this man.
She wanted it so little, in fact, that she was leaving Belgium for an unknown future just to avoid it.
“I am leaving,” she told him with all the firmness that she could muster from years of being a governess. “And then I will be free from you. We shall not see one another again.”
His fingers tightened further, and she bit back a squeak of pain. She could not show weakness now, could not reveal even a bit of the terror coursing through her veins.
“That, my dear, sweet girl—” On his lips, the endearments turned into torment, and the kindness became a curse. “—is where you are wrong. Because you have always been a servant. For the rest of your life, you will hold no higher purpose than to serve. And I will always be a lord. Which means that I will always exist to be served.”
He ground against her side provocatively, leaving no question as to the kind of ‘service’ he meant.
She shook her head, setting her red curls bouncing.
“We will not see one another again,” she said with that same firmness. She could see the carriage pulling closer now. She only had to hold on a few more minutes. Just a little longer, and she could escape once and for all.
Lord Dugley let go just in time to keep his aggression hidden from the coachman. Letitia didn’t much care why he was doing it; she just cared that he put space between them and that she could finally breathe again.
He delivered one last parting shot before he left to go back to his grand house, the symbol of their status difference.
“We shall see about that, my dear. Our time together is far, far from done.”
CHAPTER 1
“Cornelia! Patrick! Getawayfrom that, please!” Letitia called, hurrying to catch up with her little charges. She didn’t actually know what they were peering over, but given the gleeful look on Cordy’s face, it had to be something absolutely disgusting.
Lady Cornelia Lightholder, Cordy to her kin, was probably the most high-born lady in England outside of the royal family. She was the firstborn in a long line of aristocratic heirs that marked the newest generation of the Lightholder family, Britain’s most prominent dukedom, with its immense wealth and extensive connections. Cordy would never want for anything in life—not jewels, dresses, or loving parents.
And yet it seemed that all the girl wanted was to touch slime, frogs, mud, and other substances so disgusting that Letitia had not even stopped to identify them before washing them off. Cordy adored them all.
And her little brother, Lord Patrick Lightholder, adored his sister, which meant thatheliked to squish all manner of wretched, smelly things between his three-year-old fists, too.
Letitia adored the children; she really did. She’d been with them a year, and watching them grow and change was a pleasure each and every day.
But if they touched something revoltingnow, after she had spent the whole morning getting them ready for the long carriage ride to London from Godwin Estate back to the family home in London…
Well, she might very well lose her mind.
Cordy snapped up, a too-innocent look on her face.
“I wasn’t going to touch anything,” she said. It was not convincing.
