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Prologue

They stared at each other. Nathan had been planning on small talk, to get to know the woman across from him more. But there was something more pressing on his mind.

“You know, when you first walked out onto the terrace, I could have sworn you looked at me like you knew me.”

Eleanor blinked and stared at him. She licked her lips, and Nathan found himself looking at her mouth. He looked away and focused again on her eyes. Hazel eyes with slight flecks of green. Lovely eyes.

Stop!

“Maybe it was my mind playing tricks, Captain.” Eleanor cleared her throat. “I bumped into someone who looked a lot like you not too long ago. He seemed a kind, courteous man. But, of course, it couldn’t have been you. You were in France.” She managed a slight smile and shrugged. “And it was dark, so I could have been mistaken.”

Another one who thought he was someone else. Now Nathan really wanted to know what was going on. It was like everyone was going mad.

“If it were just you who’s said that to me in the last week, I would have agreed.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“My servants have been acting very odd since I returned from France. Every time I come into a room, they look at me with such fear for a split second before they realize that it’s me. Then there’s a lot of embarrassing mumbles and everyone runs away. Even my valet Knoth does it and he won’t talk to me about why.” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “If I was a different kind of man, I could develop a complex and think they feared me. But I’ve never raised my hand to them, and I’ve barely raised my voice. Not that I’ve been around to raise my voice.”

“Because you’ve been busy with the war.” Eleanor murmured. She frowned. “That is unusual, I’ll agree. Maybe they had word about something regarding you and it’s scaring them.”

“You think so?”

“It’s possible. Misinformation and rumours can colour a person’s judgement. Even when the truth is placed in front of them, they can still be suspicious.”

Nathan stared at her. Any other woman would have laughed it off, saying it was nothing and telling him to not be so suspicious himself. Nothing to cause drama where it wouldn’t benefit them. Eleanor hadn’t done that. That raised his level of respect for her.

“It’s possible, but I’m still not sure. I’ll get answers out of them soon.”

“Are your household staff good people?”

“Good? I would certainly recommend them to anyone. Hard workers and loyal. Barely a complaint from them.” Nathan paused. “They will be able to look after you once we’re married.”

“That’s a rel... I beg your pardon?” Eleanor frowned. “They’ll look after me? I thought it was the duty of the husband to look after their wife?”

“I’m sure you know this is merely an arrangement. Marriage on paper only. I’ll stay around long enough to obtain an heir, and then I’ll go back to France where I’m needed.”

Nathan bit back a grimace. That had come out far colder than he anticipated. It was the truth, but it didn’t make it any better. Eleanor was staring at him like he had just hit her over the head.

“I see.” Her voice was clip. “Your war with the French is more important than being with your new wife.”

“You didn’t think this was a marriage of love, did you?”

“I know what it is, but it doesn’t make your comment any better.” Eleanor sat forward. Her expression was steely, her eyes hardening as she glowered at him. “Do you think I don’t need to be shown how things are as a Countess? If we’re going to be able to back each other up, at the very least. Be a partnership. I don’t want to be treated like a stranger in my house by my own husband.”

Chapter One

“My lady?”

Vanity Reynolds, Dowager Countess of Brixton, looked up to see her maid standing in the doorway. She looked very nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

“What is it, Desiree?” Vanity put her sewing aside and rose to her feet. “You look pale.”

“There’s a Mr. Eric Bateman here to see you, Lady Brixton.”

Vanity froze.Oh, no. Not him.Her mouth went dry and she felt nauseous. Why couldn’t he stay away? She had done what he asked...no, demanded. He didn’t need to come back.

“Do you want me to send him away, my lady?” Desiree asked. She looked almost eager to do that. She could be formidable when she wanted to be.

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