Chapter One

I have seen the Duke of Ashden, and he is a proud and handsome man. I do not approve of his aloof manner. However, I have no choice but to seek him out — Anna’s journal entry.

Anna wiped her eyes with her sleeve and pulled her drenched black wool cloak tighter about her body, the pain in her side growing worse. She trudged forward, praying she was on the right path, and that she would find the manor before this downpour defeated her.

She had done what no respectable lady should do, every bone in her body was chilled, and she was on the verge of shedding the tears she promised she would never allow to fall. The sky flashed and thunder clapped in the distance, sending a quiver through her, but Anna continued up the steep winding road because her will to be freed was greater than her fear of a storm and whatever malady it might bring her.

Dawnton Hall appeared when she reached the highest point of the road, and the relief that expanded her chest nearly had her falling onto her knees. Her boots squelched the mud harder as her steps quickened, using the last of her strength to find solace.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating the magnificent monument before her but she was blind to all beauty at this time. Staggering to the massive wooden door, she raised a stiff gloved hand and pulled the brass knocker, then she leaned on the doorframe, shivering. At that same moment, a clock within the manor chimed, announcing the midnight hour.

For what felt like a long while, no one answered, and she was pushing herself upright to knock again when she heard the sound of a key turning in a lock. The door opened very slightly at first, amber light from within streaming out, then it widened and the butler appeared, distinguished by his livery.

“I have t-to see t-the Duke,” she said, her teeth chattering.

He took in her appearance as though he was determining her rank before he responded. “His Grace has retired for the evening, Ma’am. Please return in the morning.” Then he began to close the door.

Angered by the cold dismissal, she wedged her arm between the door and the frame. “I am Annelise Hampton. Daughter of B-baron Hampton, and I have walked f-for four hours in the rain!” She hated having to use her father’s name to gain influence but more would be at stake if she was not allowed inside.

The butler’s neat eyebrows furrowed as he hesitated, but then he gave a slight nod and opened the door wider, stepping away from it. “Please, come inside, Ma’am.” Anna stepped into a great hall, turning left to follow the butler into a receiving room while trailing mud. He set the candelabra on a table to light the small room.

“I will have some tea brought to help you warm, Ma’am. Please do be seated.”

“And t-the Duke?” She glanced at the fine chairs in the room and decided that she had no wish to ruin them.

“His Grace has very strict orders. He is never to be disturbed once he has retired.”

Anna bit her lip and briefly closed her eyes. At least I am inside, she thought, but she could not be content with that. “I…I will assume all responsibility for the disturbance. Please w-wake him.”

“Ma’am—”

“You will be saving a life if you do!” she insisted.

Just then, footfalls sounded in the great hall, and her shoulders tensed as she hoped that it was the Duke. She ground her teeth when a man who was not the Duke appeared in the doorway. The butler whispered something to him before he took a step forward and addressed her.

“Mr. Bishop at your service, Ma’am. I am His Grace’s valet, and I can confirm that he will not be able to receive you at this time.”

Anna turned and carefully lowered herself into a chair, looking straight ahead instead of at them. “Then I will wait here until he is able to receive me,” she said.

Mr. Bishop and the butler exchanged some words before he said, “Please come to the drawing-room where there is a fire to warm you, Ma’am.”

It was no promise that she would see the Duke but it was a step in a good direction, and Anna was glad. Rising, she followed him out to the great hall and further into an exquisitely furnished drawing-room. Its warmth shrouded her, and for the first time in a very long while, she felt as though she could be safe.

The fire in the hearth beckoned, and she went to it, removing her sodden gloves and cloak. He bowed and left her alone. Holding her frozen fingers toward the warmth, she clenched her jaw and held herself together with considerable effort. She was close. Very.

A moment later, a maid walked in bearing a salver that she set on the table a short distance from where Anna stood. Then she curtsied and gestured at the drenched cloak on the floor. “May I take your cloak, Ma’am?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Anna moved to sit in the chair closest to the table and reached for the teapot, pouring some of the aromatic tea into a cup. Instead of remaining seated, she stood and returned to the fire, the large portrait of a woman that hung above the mantle catching her attention.

She was beautiful with soft blue eyes and lustrous chestnut hair. Anna supposed she was the late duchess, especially because of where the portrait was placed. Moving slowly away from the fireplace, she saw the duke on the other end of the room. His portrait, that is.

She walked and stopped in front of it, swallowing. His blue eyes regarded her coolly, and his strong mouth was pressed into an unamused line. He had dark blonde hair, and the artist had managed to capture the blue-deviled mien he always seemed to wear.

Anna had only seen him twice at a ball, but he had awed her on both occasions, not because he was impossibly handsome, but because of the authority he commanded. That authority was the reason she was here tonight, seeking sanctuary.

Please, she prayed as she gazed up at him, hoping that she had done right in coming here and that he would be able to help her.

Chapter Two

I detest solitude, and I often wonder how people spend their time alone; if they crave company as much as I do.

Colin Maxwood raised his teacup to his mouth and sipped the rich valerian tea, his eyes moving around the drawing on the desk he was hunched over in the sitting room that was part of the four rooms that made up his chambers. The corner of his mouth tipped when thunder roared and he picked up a pencil, marking the drawing.

Evenings like this were good for his mind. Where storms robbed some of their attention, they enabled him to concentrate. He also appreciated every bit of solitude afforded to him. His brows immediately snapped when a knock came at his door, however. The door opened and Bishop stepped into the chamber.

“I asked to not be disturbed,” Colin said immediately, raising his head to regard his valet, ensuring his displeasure was clear. He had given very simple instructions, and would not have them disobeyed.

Bishop’s bow was deep and contrite. “Your Grace, I do not disturb you out of disrespect but necessity. There is a young woman here seeking an audience with you. A Miss Annelise Hampton. Baron Hampton’s daughter.”

One of Colin’s eyebrows rose. “At this hour? Who did she arrive with?” He glanced at the brass clock on his desk, wondering what would bring a lady to his manor after midnight.

“Yes, Your Grace, and she is unaccompanied.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed. “Did she lose her way?”

Bishop’s face tightened. “No, I do not believe she did, Your Grace. She walked for four hours in the rain with the single purpose of seeing you. She is very persistent, too, and seems determined to wait for however long it would take you to grant her wish.”

At that, Colin set down his pencil and rose. There was certainly trouble if she would walk in the rain to find him, and he could not ignore it. This was not the way he imagined his evening would go, but he had learned a very long time ago, that what he wished for was in constant battle with what actually occurred.

“She is in the drawing room, and I ordered for some tea to be taken to her,” Bishop supplied.

Colin nodded and walked past him out of the sitting room, drawing the lapels of his black banyan together over his shirt. He was not acquainted with her, and although he knew her father, he could not think of any reason why she was here. He descended the steps to the great hall and the first thing he saw was a maid cleaning mud off the marble.

The butler, Chalker, bowed and pointed at the right drawing room. Colin turned in that direction. Miss Hampton stood in front of his portrait with her back to him, but she turned the instant she heard him walk in, her face ghostly pale, and her tall figure shivering in a soaked dark green velvet dress.

She watched him with eyes as large and dark as a doe’s, her slender fingers curled around her teacup, before curtsying slowly.

“Are you not cold?” he asked, going toward the fire.

“I am,” she replied, her voice soft. Too soft, in fact, and it affected him in a way that he did not anticipate.

“Then should you not be closer to the fire?”

Her shoulders visibly grew rigid when thunder clapped, and she swallowed, glancing out the window before she returned her eyes to his. She was afraid, and he frowned, his concern growing.

“Please, Miss Hampton, come to the fire,” he said, and she came toward him after a moment’s hesitation. She stood about a foot away from him but did not sit. “Are you going to sit?” he asked.

“Look at my dress, Your Grace. I have no wish to ruin your chairs.” She sipped her tea.

Oh, you should not have said that. His eyes moved slowly down her green dress that clung to her form, and his blood rushed faster in his veins, sending an erotic thrill to his manhood.

Colin averted his gaze to stop himself from growing. “I will not be offended if you spoil my chairs. Please sit.”

“If you insist.” She lowered herself onto the edge of a chair and set her empty teacup down on the table. He noticed a slight discoloration on her arm but her dress sleeve concealed it before he could guess what it was.

“How may I help you?” he asked, sitting in the chair opposite her, and not wishing to waste her or his time.

She brushed a lock of her matted dark hair from her pale shoulder, driving his thoughts in a direction he did not want them heading. “I learned you are seeking a wife,” she said, and his body tensed. “I want to be your wife.”

Colin blinked. Surely, this was not the true reason she had come here. And if it was, he did not know how to respond in a gentlemanly manner.

Chapter Three

Disappointment ought to be an old friend for how often we have encountered each other, yet it continues to laugh at me. I am also certain at this point that I am not fond of the Duke. He appears to be in want of the tenderness a woman requires from a man.

“I beg your pardon?” Colin asked because he was unable to come up with a better reaction.

Folding her hands on her lap, Miss Hampton calmly repeated her request. “I am asking you to marry me, Your Grace.”

She is not jesting. Colin had to admire her brazenness. He was seeking a wife, that much was true, but he could not marry just any woman. Since he made his intentions public, he had received offers from several gentlemen on behalf of their daughters and sisters, and even from widows, but never from a young lady.

He allowed several long seconds to pass before he shook his head. “I am flattered by your offer, Miss Hampton, but this is not done.”

She pressed her lips together. “You do not look like a man who is flattered.”

“But I am, Miss Hampton,” he responded. Of all the offers he had received, hers complimented him the most because she had personally come to him, which also disturbed him. “However, I cannot accept it.”

“Because I did not send my father to ask on my behalf?” she challenged, and both of his eyebrows rose.

That, and she was not the sort of woman he would take for a wife. She was too pale and slender, and she would certainly take offense if he told her that. His ability to be tactful had never been tested like this before.

“Yes,” he lied.

Miss Hampton straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. She would not be defeated by that simple word, he realized. “I am one-and-twenty, Your Grace. I do not need my father’s consent to marry.”

“I see.” He leaned forward and took her cup, seeking more time to think of a better way to reject her. “You should have more tea.” He tipped the teapot over the cup and filled it before giving it to her. Their fingers brushed as she took the cup, and his jaw tightened. His body certainly was contradicting his opinion of her appearance. “Why are you unaccompanied?”

“No one knew I left the house,” she replied. She did not lack ways to shock him. “I rode the coach, and when it stopped ten miles short, I walked.”

“Your family must be looking all over London for you.”

Her long lashes covered her eyes and she raised a small shoulder in a detached shrug. “Yes, but I am not in London.”

“Forgive me, but I struggle to understand why you will disregard your safety and reputation to come here to ask me to marry you when we have never met before.” Her father had a respectable fortune, and so Colin was willing to dismiss her intentions as being mercenary. Perhaps she was being coerced to marry a man she did not want.

“I want to marry you,” she simply insisted. Bishop was right. She was persistent.

“Why?”

She shifted slightly in her seat before she proudly asked, “Is my previous answer not sufficient?”

“Intentions are very important to me, Miss Hampton.”

“I am not after your fortune, Your Grace, nor did I ever have the desire to become a duchess.” When she reached to set her teacup down again, he saw another mark on the underside of her arm near her elbow. He could be mistaken but he thought it looked like a bruise.

“Then is it my body?” Colin asked, and her pale face gained color for the first time since he saw her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Is lust the reason for your proposal?” he clarified, even though he was sure she understood the first time. The heat in his blood increased as her flush deepened.

“How conceited and presumptuous of you, Your Grace, but no. That is not the reason I am here.”

Her words stung his pride, and he inhaled. “Have you no concern for the sharpness of your words, Miss Hampton?”

Her composure faltered, and her dark eyes blazed with the fire in the hearth. “Have you no concern for yours? To assume that wealth, power, and lust are my only motivations is offensive. You have no wish to marry me, I understand that, but you did not have to pronounce your ignoble assumptions.”

Colin had not anticipated such a passionate defense from her, and he took a moment to mentally compliment her. “Forgive me,” he murmured. “As I said earlier. Intentions are important to me.”

She rose, her posture straight and noble. “As they are to me.” She curtsied gracefully as he joined her in standing. “Thank you for your time, Your Grace.” Then she turned and began walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

She paused but did not turn. “Back to London. I have no cause to remain in Hertfordshire any longer.”

Colin strode after her, and acting purely on impulse, he took her hand. It was small and cold in his, and suddenly, he wanted to draw her close and warm her. He abruptly released her. “What manner of man would I be if I allowed you to go out in this storm?”

“I will find no fault in such an action. After all, you were not expecting me, but were gracious enough to see me.” She was disappointed, and he felt some guilt, but it was not enough to sway his decision. He had specific requirements that the woman he was going to marry must meet, and Miss Hampton did not appear to fulfill any of them.

“Please stay, and I will have you safely returned to your family in the morning.”

She stiffened when he said that, and her face tightened. Colin took her hand again and began to guide her back to the chairs, noticing the mark on her arm, and confirming it was a bruise now that he was close enough.

He did not think she would tell him what had happened to her if he asked. After all, she had refused to tell him why she wanted him to marry her. When she was seated, he said, “I will have your bedchamber shown to you in a moment. Please excuse me.” Then he strode out of the drawing room.

***

Anna watched the Duke of Ashden walk away, her chest clenching. She had wanted to beg him to marry her, even tell him the reason she wanted it, but he had made it rather apparent that he had no desire to marry her. From the little she knew about him, he was not the sort of man who easily changed his mind. Besides, she had her pride and dignity to keep intact, even though her reputation was tattered now.

She had risked everything to crawl out of perdition, but it seemed she was going to be sent back into it. Closing her eyes, she released her breath and let her shoulders fall. She could hear Ashden speaking with someone in the great hall, and a moment later, he returned to the room.

Anna straightened and raised her eyes to his. Desire might not have been enough to make her offer her hand to him in marriage but his mere presence affected her in a sensual manner. Another reason she had chosen him. Anna had felt his power from across a ballroom and wondered what his hands would feel like on her flesh.

“Miss Hampton, my housekeeper, Mrs. Willis, will be with you momentarily. I regret that I cannot keep your company for longer.”

“Yes. You must retire.” She inclined her head. “I thank you, Your Grace.”

He lingered, his keen blue eyes studying her. “I hope you have a pleasant night, Miss Hampton.”

“You as well, Your Grace.”

His lips parted as though he was going to say something more to her but then pressed them together and turned to the door, changing his mind.

Shortly after his departure, a stout woman walked in and curtsied. “I am Mrs. Willis,” she introduced. Her smile was warm and kind, something Anna was not accustomed to receiving.

With a lump constricting her throat, Anna stood, acknowledging her greeting with a nod, for she was gradually becoming more distraught. Then she followed her out of the drawing room and up the stairs.

They arrived at a bedchamber with pale blue walls and cream-colored curtains. A fire was already burning in the hearth, and several candles made the room bright and welcoming. A maid stood by the large four-poster bed in the middle of the room, drawing the dark blue covers and placing hot bricks underneath.

“I hope the chamber is to your liking, Miss,” Mrs. Willis said.

“Yes, it is,” Anna replied, standing stiffly. She wanted nothing more than to crawl beneath the covers and sleep, but she also wanted to cry. She had wasted her time by coming here, and now she was filled with regret. She might have found another way out of her predicament had she carefully thought about everything.

“Now, we must quickly free you from those drenched clothes before you catch a cold.” Mrs. Willis pointed toward a screen that stood on one side of the room.

“I might already have,” Anna said, mustering a small smile as she moved behind the screen. She was already feeling feverish.

“Oh my goodness!” The housekeeper placed a concerned hand on her chest. “Mason, have more tea brought up,” she ordered the maid by the bed. It was the same maid who had brought her tea in the drawing room.

Anna reached behind her to unfasten her dress buttons, and when Mrs. Willis’ hands joined hers, she started.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss—”

Anna quickly shook her head. “Please do not mind me. I was only startled. The journey to the manor has been rather long.” And lonely.

Mrs. Willis gave her a commiserating look. “It must have been.” Then her eyes widened when Anna’s dress was pulled down and she got a good look at the bruises on her arms. Anna looked away, hoping the blank expression she wore was enough to tell the housekeeper that she did not wish to be questioned.

It worked, but Mrs. Willis continued to give her concerned and curious glances as she helped her out of her stays. When she had only her shift on, which was thankfully only damp, the housekeeper bundled up her clothes and asked her if she would like to eat, but Anna declined, too tired.

Alone, she got beneath the covers and drew the duvet up to her chin, wiggling her toes as the warmth all around her seeped into her body. She thought she would be able to fall asleep immediately, but she could feel the slumber moving very far away from her grasp.

Mrs. Willis and the maid returned, and instead of just tea on the tray, there was also soup and bread. “I will insist you have some soup, Miss. London is really quite far from Ashden.”

Anna sat up, wondering if the woman knew that she had proposed to the Duke. The tray was set down on a table by the bed, and Mrs. Willis brought the bowl to her.

A taste of the creamy soup was all it took for Anna to realize how hungry she was, and within minutes, she had gobbled everything and was pouring some tea into a cup and adding sugar.

She looked curiously around the room as she took small languid sips, noticing a bookshelf between the two large windows on her left. She got out of the bed and went to it, examining the spines of the books there. A volume with the name of the manor in gold caught her attention and she selected it, moving to a chair by the fire. The rain was not as ferocious as it had been earlier, and as she thumbed the pages, she found her mood improving. Perhaps she could change the Duke’s mind.

A thud outside her bedchamber made her head snap quickly toward the door. Setting both her teacup and the book down on a lacquered table closest to the chair, she drew up the blanket that was draped over the back of a sofa and covered herself with it, and the curiosity her parents had spent years stifling came to the surface.

Quietly, Anna opened the door and poked her head out into the hallway. When she saw no one, she stepped out into it, looking around the darkness and wondering what had made that sound. The manor was beautiful, she noticed, much more beautiful than the hundred-year-old manor her father was immensely proud of in Berkshire.

Her steps carried her down the hall where she took a right turn at the end and walked down another, narrower, hallway. Lightning briefly illuminated the place to show her a door at the far end. It looked like all of the doors along the hall, white with gold scrolls along the borders, but something inexplicable drew her to it.

A hand suddenly circled her elbow and she jumped, her heart kicking fiercely against her ribcage.

“We should not be here, Miss,” Mrs. Willis said, drawing her away and back toward her bedchamber.

Anna was glad that it was someone familiar, but her heart did not slow, and her sudden movement made the pain in her side more pronounced. Despite that, she was tempted to ask Mrs. Willis why she was discouraged from exploring the manor but resisted because she was a guest and had no business there.

“I would suggest resting, Miss,” the housekeeper said when they reached her bedchamber. “You have a journey early in the morning.”

“Early?” Anna asked, surprised.

“Yes. Quite early. Please rest.” Then Mrs. Willis turned and walked down the hall before Anna could react. An odd, cold feeling washed over her and she retreated into the room, pressing a hand to her belly.

She could not go back to the house she was raised in. She would be doomed if she did. 

Look out for its release on the 2nd of November!