Gabriel had endured many beatings, but this certainly felt like the worst. His flesh was on fire. Endless tears slid from his eyes at the pain and his helplessness. He was at the mercy of a deranged brute, and there was no one who could help him.
Drawing air became increasingly difficult as the pain intensified to excruciating levels. He was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, if not from the pain. Any minute now. He would welcome oblivion. And then, when he couldn’t stand a second more of torture, it stopped.
“Listen to me, boy. Pack up your things.” TheEarlwas breathing hard. His crazed anger abated a little, but his poisonous hatred was just as strong as always. “You are what, twelve now? Aye, old enough. I’m sending you to Eton on the morrow. And you better pray that you never cross my path again.”
Gabriel stared. Dazed, broken, and confused. Just like that, he was cast out of the only home he’d ever known. Returning was not an option as long as theEarllived. Gabriel would soon have no home, family, or anyone to turn to. He would be alone in the world.
Gabriel sighed with a combination of crushing defeat and hopeful freedom.Better alone than in the company of a madman.
CHAPTER 1
HERTFORDSHIRE, ENGLAND
November 1863
Her husband was dying. There was no denying it this time. The duke had been delicate for years now, and still, he lingered on. But this time, it was obvious he had little time left.
Hannah knew it would come to this. Being much younger than him meant it was likely she would one day become a widow. She sat by his bed, holding one of his hands as if she could keep him anchored to this earth by sheer force of will. The hour was late, well past midnight. All the servants had long since gone to bed, and she had sent her husband’s old valet to get some much-needed sleep, too. She wanted to be alone with him. She needed to think about her future.
What would she do with her life once her husband died? She would have freedom and a good portion to live on. Her husband had well provided for her in their marriage settlements. But she wasn’t looking forward to that. The prospect of being a wealthy widow wasn’t enough to give her life purpose.
Theirs might not be a passionate sort of love, but there was a deep, abiding affection between them. For the whole of her adult life, Harold had been her rock, her home, her safe place, and she didn’t want to contemplate life without him. She knew many doubted her devotion to him because of their significant age difference. He had been eight-and-fifty and a widower when he’d married her, a mere debutante of eighteen.
Some of her friends pitied her for being forced to marry a man so much older. Others, the most ambitious, had envied her, for she was about to become a duchess. She had felt nothing other than a sense of relief that her parents had settled on someone who was not intolerable. Whom to marry had never been her choice to make. It was her duty to marry whomever they chose. And they’d chosen the Duke of Stanhope. Even if she’d had misgivings, it would have never occurred to her to defy or question her parents’ choice.
They had told her they had secured an excellent match for her and that she was a lucky girl. She had met the duke the following day, and while he was not the stuff of girlish fantasies, he had kind eyes and made her feel valued and safe. She would have gone with him just for that.
But he had given her so much more. In the fifteen years of their marriage, he had been the best of husbands. He had taught her so much, allowed her to grow and develop. She had built her life around him, like a climbing vine around a mighty oak. But what would happen to the vine when the oak died?
Her husband’s voice interrupted her melancholic reverie.
“Hannah, I’m glad you are here.”
“Of course, dear. Where else would I be? I’ll be right here until you get better.”
“No, Hannah. Not this time. You know as well as I do, I won’t be getting better.”
“Don’t say that! Of course you will. You always do.”
He waved a dismissive hand, as if whether he lived or not was unimportant.
“We need to talk. Time is running out, and there are matters I need to settle.”
“You don’t need to worry about the estate. I have it well in hand. I met with Mr. Gibbons just this morning.”
“None of that will matter unless we secure the family lineage. We need to see about begetting an heir.”
She looked at him in shock. He had not visited her bed in a decade. Surely, he could not mean...he couldn’t. She must have misunderstood.
“No, it’s not what you are thinking.” He gave a strangled bark of bitter laughter that dissolved into a fit of coughing. She handed him a glass of water and helped him drink. After a few sips, he leaned back, his breaths labored.
“God knows I wouldn’t be capable of even attempting it. I have a different idea, and a huge favor to ask. It might seem shocking at first, but I beg you to contemplate it.”
“Anything, my dear,” she said, steeling herself.
If he had procreation in mind, he might need more than a little help from her. The pleading note in such a proud man’s voice touched her heart.
“Don’t agree yet. You may not want to do what I’m going to ask of you.”
