The wedding had been perfect, and he’d kissed her on the altar with infinite tenderness. For the first time in her life, she’d believed in fairytales.
After the ceremony, her father’s widowed sister had escorted her to the bedroom she would share with her husband. While helping her to don a revealing nightdress, her aunt had told her in whispered tones what to expect.
But when Daniel finally had come to her near dawn, he’d been well in his cups. He’d managed only a brief, brotherly kiss on her forehead before passing out dead drunk on the bed beside her.
In the morning, he’d begged her forgiveness and promised to make it up to her. Then he’d cut his own thumb, letting his blood darken the sheets so no one would be the wiser.
She’d waited for him the next night, and the one after that, but he’d never attempted to consummate their marriage. In fact, he’d avoided her ever since. When she’d tried to press the issue, he’d grown distant and angry, so in time she’d come to accept the situation.
Now she realized she shouldn’t have been so acquiescent. She should have fought for her marriage, done more to show him she was worthy, if not of his love, then at least of his respect.
If only her own mother hadn’t died so young… If only she had someone to confide in, someone to tell her how to win a man’s love… Stiffening her shoulders, she chased the self-pitying thoughts away.
She couldn’t change the past, but she could change the future. She wouldn’t allow Sutcliffe to send them away like some distasteful, dirty little secret. Tonight, she would find a way to seduce her husband and begin the family she should have had long ago.
“Betsy, I need your help.” She turned from the window and crossed the room with purposeful strides to kneel beside the closest trunk. “Did you already pack my lingerie?”
Betsy nodded, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “Yes, ma’am.” She pointed to the nearest trunk. “They’re right here.”
Kathryn dug through the pile of negligees until she found the exquisite creation of lace, silk and satin she’d worn so briefly on her wedding night. She stood, holding it up to her shoulders. “Do you think it will still fit?”
“Of course. You haven’t gained a bit since your marriage.” Betsy frowned. “What are you thinking, milady? Does this have anything to do with that handsome young devil who arrived with the earl?”
“What handsome young devil?” she asked, searching for the translucent robe that completed the ensemble.
“You haven’t heard?”
When Kathryn shook her head, Betsy’s eyes lit up. She dearly loved to be the source of interesting gossip. “Well, the earl has decided to claim one of his by-blows. One of the footmen told me this gent’s been living at the London house for more than a week. I caught a glimpse of him when the coach arrived. He’s dreadfully good-looking, reminds me of the earl in his younger days, don’t you think?”
“Where is he now?” she asked, fighting her rising panic. Was this why Sutcliffe was sending them away? “I want to meet him.”
Betsy shook her head, making her blond curls bounce. “I don’t know, milady. Didn’t you meet him earlier? He was in the library while you were talking to the earl.”
Kathryn blinked, stunned. “Are you certain?” She hadn’t seen anyone else, but there were several reading nooks in the huge, dark room and she hadn’t been looking.
“He stormed out of there just a few minutes after you did, milady.
He looked mad enough to spit nails.”
Kathryn’s stomach clenched at the thought of a total stranger witnessing her humiliation. How dare he sit there and watch such a scene without calling attention to himself?
She tossed the lingerie on her bed. “Please make sure these get packed with the clothes I’ll be wearing in London. It seems I have a new brother-in-law to welcome.”
* * * * *
After a lengthy search, Kathryn found the stranger sitting on a marble bench in her rose garden. His hands were braced behind him, his eyes were closed, and his face was tilted toward the afternoon sky.
A pagan pose reminiscent of a medieval sun worshiper.
She paused for a long moment, staring, fighting to control the rapid beat of her heart. Daniel’s half-brother was wickedly beautiful.
Her gaze lit upon his stark, finely hewn profile then slid to the lush mane of long black hair that brushed his broad shoulders. He had the look of someone who had been ill, as though every extra ounce of flesh had been winnowed from his body. But instead of detracting from his good looks, it somehow added to them.
He reminded her of a romantic hero from a book, a man who had gone through some terrible ordeal, but had emerged victorious.
She banished the thought, annoyed. This man was nobody’s hero. He could very well be a threat to everything she held dear. Still, she could understand why Betsy had assumed one look at him would be enough to send her searching for a seductive negligee.
“Good afternoon,” she murmured, striding forward.
