PROLOGUE
Wren
Gilbert Wren stood in a parlor that was so familiar that it had sometimes felt like home. Sometimes it had felt like hell. He looked in every corner and there was a lifetime of memories to greet him. There was the doorway where he’d first met his two best friends a decade ago, and the fireplace where they’d first whispered secrets together as they had become closer over the years. He’d been sitting on that very settee at fifteen when he first felt…well, a great many feelings that had changed things…changed even more when he realized the two of them felt the same.
And yet because of their disparate positions, they had never been free to explore more together. So there had always been longing and nowhere to put the love they all felt. It had become grief over the years and the pain of it stung Wren’s chest the way it always had.
It was almost fitting that they would have this meeting here. That the end would come exactly where the beginning had.
The door behind him opened and he turned to watch as Miss Emilia Harris and Aiden Edwards entered the room together. His two best mates, his two deepest loves, his dreams that could never come true. They were both so utterly beautiful. Emilia was tall and curvaceous with sleek, dark brown hair that was almost black in some lights and the bluest eyes Wren had ever seen on any person. She was the kind of woman people couldn’t help but look at, the kind of woman artists sketched and poets waxed romantic about. His late father had been the man of affairs forherfather, Mr. Harris, the second son of a baron.
And then there was Aiden. He was shorter than Wren, with broad shoulders and thick thighs. In centuries prior, he would have led warriors onto the battlefield with a broad sword lifted high. But alongside his thick strength, Aiden had an intelligent face, intense brown eyes and a smile that could light up the world. Like Wren, he’d been raised in service to Emilia’s family, as his father was their longtime butler.
But he wasn’t smiling now. None of them were as Emilia pressed the door closed behind them and leaned back on it with a sigh. “My father will be back soon,” she said, her voice wavering a little as she dropped her gaze away from the men. “We’ll have to hurry.”
“You should have told me sooner,” Wren said, hearing his own voice crack as he moved toward the pair of them. His pain was too intense, so he allowed anger to lead because it felt easier. “Both of you.”
Aiden folded his arms and his waistcoat flexed against his broad chest in a distracting manner even in this moment. He arched a brow at Wren. “And just what would you have done?”
He ground his teeth. “Oh, yes, because you could do so much more, Aiden. And yet she spoke toyouabout it!”
He hadn’t realized he was jealous of the confession Emilia had made until the words spilled from his lips. She pushed away from the door and stepped toward him, her gaze locked with his in sudden understanding. She moved between them, looking first at Aiden and then at Wren. She lifted a hand and pressed it gently against his chest. He could feel the weight of each finger even through the layers of fabric that separated them. His heart began to pound.
“Please,” she said softly. “There’s so little time. I know you’re angry that we left you out.”
“Why did you?” he asked, the air coming out of him with her touch. “We were always all of us or none of us. What changed?”
Aiden stepped closer. Now there was a thickness to the tension in the air. “Because you have a future that you could lose, Wren,” he whispered. “You’ll be a fine investigator one day, but I know that Mr. Boyd’s apprenticeship isn’t easy.”
Wren pursed his lips. “No. He is exacting, that is for certain.”
“And with Emilia’s father paying for your apprenticeship, there is even more danger,” Aiden continued. “Your chance could be taken if he found out you were interfering in what he wants for her. We couldn’t risk it.”
Wren tightened his jaw. In his heart he had known that was the reason. They had always tried to protect each other. Him especially, it felt like sometimes. And here they were.
He sighed. “I-I know. I just…wish I could save you, Emilia.”
She shook her head. “In the end, neither of you can save me. We’ve tried every way, I promise you.” She stepped away now, leaving a gap between him and Aiden that neither of them stepped to fill, even though what Wren wanted more than anything was to feel the support of Aiden’s steady presence.
Emilia’s eyes sparkled with tears before she turned her gaze away and whispered, “I…I will be forced marry Viscount Wilburn. I-I must accept it. I must accept.”
And there it was. The destruction of Wren’s heart in just a few sentences. The crushing of his whole world like it was no more than a paper dream. The loss of a future that made no sense and yet he had longed for it since he was fifteen.
“No,” he whispered, not to stop her but just because he couldn’t keep the word in.
Now Aiden did move forward and took Wren’s hand. His strong fingers closed around Wren’s and he squeezed oh-so-gently.
“Are you sure?” Wren asked, even though he knew the answer.
She nodded. “Certain. The contracts were signed last night. The wedding will be in a few weeks’ time. There is no stopping it now.”
“God,” Wren said, and Aiden gripped his hand even tighter.
Emilia stared at the two of them for what felt like a lifetime, and then she stepped forward, her full lower lip trembling slightly. “I-I wanted to see you both. To talk to you both one more time because I know that will never be allowed once I’m married. The viscount would see, I know he would. He would know what my heart is if you were near me. And he would never let that pass, I don’t think.”
She eased closer once more and leaned in. Wren and Aiden did the same and their foreheads touched in a circle, their breath mingling and their emotions understood even if they weren’t said. Wren turned his face and his lips brushed Emilia’s jawline.
She caught her breath, her mouth finding his in a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled, heated desire brought to a boil after so many years, so many thwarted moments. There had also been a few not-so-thwarted, a few brief kisses between Emilia and each of them. A few caresses, sometimes with both the men holding her hand before they pulled away in shyness. After all, three people couldn’t be in love. Society declared it so. And so over the years none of it had ever gone so far as his heated body wanted, what his most wicked fantasies created in his bed.
