PROLOGUE
July 1802
Theodore Tinsley would one day be the Duke of Lightmorrow. That was knowledge that had been all but beaten into him from the earliest moment he could recall. It was also the fact about himself that he detested most. If he had been the son of someone else, if there had been less expectation placed on his future, perhaps his father wouldn’t have hated him so much.
And the current duke did seem tohatehim. Theo’s entire growing up, his father had been harsh and cold, cruel and baiting. And now it was his eighteenth birthday and Theo shuddered to think what would happen. After all, he’d started the day in a most unpleasant exchange with the duke and one of his father’s closest friends, the Earl of Etheridge. An argument that had reached its peak nearly with blows.
And now his father had some cronies over and he had insisted that Theo join them for drinks. Since Etheridge was one of them, Theo couldn’t imagine the night was going to be pleasant.
He walked down the long hallway toward the parlor where his father and his friends were gathered. He could hear them as he approached—it seemed they had not waited for him to begin the drinking. He smoothed his jacket and wished he hadn’t run his hand through his hair after he left his chamber, but it would have to do.
He was about to push the door open when he heard his father say, “—turning down such a fine opportunity. He’s a waste.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on the boy,” he heard another voice say, and then a pause. “After all, this generation is a disappointment in general, it isn’t only your son.”
Theo froze, hand outstretched as he realized they were discussinghim. That his father was talking about him in these terms in front of these men. And now they were laughing as the duke launched into a story from five years ago when Theo had wept over the death of a barn cat he’d adored. As his father gave the details with scorn dripping from every word, Theo was yanked back in time to his father’s rage over his emotional display. Apparently the duke had squirreled away these facts to bring out to humiliate him.
And Theo was supposed to drink with these men? How could he? How could he do that when all he wanted to do was burst into that room and tell his father to go to hell?
He drew in a shallow breath at that thought. There would be consequences to such a thing. While it was fine for the duke to humiliatehimin front of guests, Theo knew from experience that the punishment if he did the same would be swift. Occasionally violent. But perhaps it was worth it.
He pushed his shoulders back and leaned forward, ready to burst in when he felt a hand close around the inside of his elbow. He looked down to see Lady Bernadette, the daughter of the very man he’d had such an ugly exchange with, Etheridge. She was clinging to him, gazing up at him with wide brown eyes.
He started because he’d been thinking a great deal about her lately.
He had known Bernadette for years, though he’d once heard someone call her Etta and he’d never thought of her as anything else since. Because their fathers were friends, she had long been a fixture at gatherings. Despite the fact she was three years younger than Theo, he had never minded when she joined with any of the gangs of children to run through the woods or fish or skip rocks.
She was sharp-witted and kind to others. She always seemed aware of anyone who was on the outside looking in and she made people feel welcome.Hefelt welcome when he was with her, and that was an uncommon enough emotion in his not-particularly-long life.
In the last year or so, he had also noticed that she was becoming very pretty. She lookedextremelypretty as she held firm to him, her soft eyes kind and steady on his. Calming.
He needed calming during this party, especially, thanks to that unpleasant encounter he’d had with both his father and hers that morning over her. It had clearly been the reason his father had begun talking about him in such a disparaging tone now. He pushed those thoughts away.
“Don’t,” she said softly.
Theo swallowed hard, feeling the heat fill his cheeks as he realized she had heard exactly what had been said about him and that long ago pain. He shook free of her. “What do you know about it?” he whispered, so the men inside wouldn’t hear them.
“I know that if you go in there you’ll only provide them with more entertainment,” she replied gently. “Please, Theo, don’t do it. Come with me instead.”
He stared at the door. “He’s…he’s expecting me.”
She shrugged. “So?”
He pursed his lips. There would be consequences for not making an appearance, too. But right now the idea of marching off with this girl was just as bewitching as crashing into the room and calling his father out for his horrible behavior.
“Fine,” Theo ground out, and followed as Etta slipped down the hall and into a little used room that led to the terrace overlooking the garden. He didn’t seem capable of doing anythingbutfollowing her when she went down the stairs and through the garden paths to a gazebo on the edge of the property.
She smiled at him as she entered and walked over to look out over the rolling hills down to the lake half a mile away. “How many times did we all play games out there?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Too many to count.”
She glanced at him. “I’m sorry about what he said, Theo,” she said softly. “That he made sport of your pain and loss.”
He forced his usual grin, his mask. “Don’t worry about it.”
“He shouldn’t have done it,” she continued anyway. “But then again, he’s always been a cruel person.”
Theo jerked his head toward her. No one had ever dared to make that fact plain to him. And yet this girl did it so easily. Like she understood it. And perhaps she did. Her own father and mother were as cold as Theo’s.
