Chapter One
Graham Laithe, Earl of Rayne, relinquished his sister to her blushing groom. As Lady Clarissa and Lord Markham spoke their vows, Rayne retreated to the back corner of the chapel, settling into the shadows between a knight’s ancient tomb and a Norman holy water fountain—just another relic at odds with the stained-glass infused sunlight further candying the already too-saccharine scene.
Rayne studied his formerly close friend, Lord Bromton, who, as brother-in-law to the groom, occupied a place of honor near the altar. Once, he and Bromton had been as close as brothers, too. In fact, his respect for Bromton, who’d been his neighbor, confidant, guide, and friend, had bordered on adulation. But that had been before Bromton had broken trust with Clarissa, before Rayne had reacted in self-righteous fury, and before—Rayne’s gaze settled on Markham’s younger sister, Julia—her.
Julia grasped the pew-box rail in front of her, glowing as if she were the reason Markham was currently slipping a ring onto Clarissa’s finger. Rayne wouldn’t be surprised if Juliahadplayed a significant part in pairing his sister and her brother. What Julia wanted, Julia made happen.
He knew because she’d once wanted him.
Nineteen months, four days, three scars, and two ocean crossings lay between himself and the colossal mistake that had cost him his self-respect and the esteem of his most valued friends. Now, however, safe in the shadows, he could finally drink his parched fill of Julia’s face.
Her short, brown curls framed softened features. But her mouth was as plump and crimson as ever, beckoning to be plundered. How well he remembered those lips, raised and parted in sweetly seductive invitation.
His breath went heavy in his chest.
The forbidden kiss they’d shared in a darkened stairwell had started as revenge but ended igniting needs far more potent. Even now, after all that had happened, hestillcraved the fire-eyed, devil-tongued minx in ways both consecrated and depraved.
Julia glanced back, her luminous gaze colliding with his. Shock infused his muscles. He readied. For what? For nothing. His reaction was as meaningless as it was visceral—nothing more than an abhorrent, prehistoric impulse to seize her as his mate, primal yearning he’d thought he’d vanquished.
She turned back to face the altar without even a glimmer of recognition…a cut that impressed, in a twisted, painful way.
Ah, well.He’d known, in her power, she’d be something to behold.
And Julia—extraordinarily passionate, perennially exuberant—deserved a husband who would not snuff out her light, a husband whose presence would not threaten her incomprehensibly close-knit clan.
Even if Rayne had been able to completely transform, he could never fully atone.
All his life, Rayne had striven to follow Bromton’s example. In contrast to Rayne’s reclusive, miserly father, Bromton had been steadfast, influential, and widely admired. But then, beginning with Bromton’s refusal to honor a longstanding betrothal agreement forged by their fathers, Bromton had changed…and Rayne had changed with him.
By the time Bromton had agreed to wed Markham’s older sister, Katherine, Rayne’s grievance had a sharpened, serrated edge, jagged enough to justify—in Rayne’s mind—dallying with the young, infatuated Julia before vengefully revealing that Bromton had “won” Katherine’s hand from Markham in a high-stakes card game.
Rayne had wanted to hurt as he’d been hurting. By God, he’d succeeded.
BothMarkham and Bromton had sent him to the devil, with a dire warning to stay away from Julia.Julia’s subsequent plea, however, had become Rayne’s reckoning.
But I love him.
No, minx—Rayne’s response slashed anew from the inside out—no, you don’t.
In that moment, his inherent cruelty had come into stark relief. He’d acted with the same basic disregard for decency as his callous, ironfisted father, and he’d feared he was equally unfit for anything but a solitary life. Soon after, he’d sailed for New York with little more than a letter of introduction to a friend’s distant relative—a favor he’d had no choice but to call.
While abroad in the Americas, he’d shunned title and past, adopting challenges his younger self never could have imagined. With will and brawn, he’d slowly dismantled his character—his very understanding of himself. Hardship, he deserved. But penance without reparation wasn’t penance at all.
So, he’d returned—temporarily—to apologize, ensure his sister’s welfare, and place his estate in competent hands by leasing it out or hiring a permanent steward. The only thing he hadn’t been fully prepared to do was face the man reflected back in his former friends’ gazes.
He rolled his shoulders and ran his fingers through the reassuring scruff of his beard. In one more night, he’d be on the road, free of Julia’s temptationandher family’s contempt. Soon, he’d discharge the rest of his obligations and escape again to the other side of the world.
This time for good.
He refocused on the service, the itch to be gone festering beneath his collar.
When the rector pronounced the conclusion of the ceremony, Julia, with a triumphant squeal, launched herself between the newly wedded couple.
“Well, come on, then!” she exclaimed. “Let’s sign the registry so we can all have cake!”
Chuckles rippled throughout the room as Markham, Clarissa, Katherine, Bromton, and Julia all disappeared into the vestry.
Rayne leaned against the tomb, suddenly cold.
