Chapter One
Early September
England 1812
Lady Alyssa Breyton walked among the fallen leaves, enjoying the sound as they crunched beneath her boots. While there were a few colors still clinging to the trees, most had faded and died.
She pulled her shawl around her shoulders a bit more tightly as a chill passed through her,thoughshe knew it had nothing to do with the early autumn air, but rather the sorrow that was still imbedded in her heart. While the sun was shining brightly, it was the painoflosingher beloved Aunt Pearl that weighed heavily on her mind. She had only been gonetwo weeks, but it seemed much longer.
Even now, Alyssa would wake upsome mornings,expectingtobreak her fast withthe woman who had come to mean so much to her, but then thesting of reality would surround her. It didn’t help that shehad returned toher father’s estate, forced to remain with her cousin and hiswife, when she just wanted to be back home in London, where things were familiar and she could wrap herself in the memory of her aunt.
Not only that, butit was where she tended to her Blue Ladies,a rare breed of rose that she had perfected and hoped to present to the Royal Horticultural Society. While she wouldn’t be able to become a member, for that honor was only given to certain affluent men, she hoped to share her discovery and perhaps, even gain a bit of notice for her achievements.
But then,she was planning on going to America to start a new life in a few short months, so what did it really matter? She would be turning five and twenty in a couple weeks, and then the trust that her parents had set aside for her would be hers to do with as she wished. While the rest of her circle of friends had all recently married —Triana, Isabella and Rowena—she intended to honor their pact with theirAmerican friend, KorinaHaverswyth, and travel to New York after the first of the year.
She was finished with England and all the sadness it had brought along with it. As an only child,herparents had died young—her motherwhen she was born,and then her fatherseveralyearslater from cholera.And now, thispastsummer,whenshehad been in Bath,heraunt had takenill and they’dhad to return to London where she’ddied quite suddenly.
Needless to say, Alyssa had been heartbroken; for her aunt—her mother’s older sister—had taken her in when she was buteightyears old. She had truly been the only mother figureAlyssa hadever known—and now she was gone, leaving her aloneyet again. She might be staying with relations at the moment, a cousin who carried the title ofbaronafter her father’s death, but it was difficult to call someone family when she barely even knew them.But without anyone to properly chaperone herin Londonas an unmarried woman, she’d had no choicebut to rely onthegoodwillof her relations, and from the beginningit was obvious that she was a burden.
January truly couldn’t get here quick enough.
Instead of staying in the house and staring at the walls of her bedchamber, watching as they slowly closed inaround her,Alyssa hadfound a measure of solace by takinglong walks outdoorseach day.She had grown accustomed to London over the years, but she had also enjoyed the countryside once upon a time.
As she topped the crest of a hill, she caught a glimpse of another fine manor sitting in the midst of the rolling valley. A slight smile touched her lips as Alyssa looked upon Rosewood, the Abernathy ancestral home.
She recalled a vision of two young girls in white pinafores, blue ribbons flying in their hair as they ran side-by-side, inventing brand new adventures, their imaginations running quite rampant. Behind them was another figure, a boy a few years older, with hands shoved in his pockets as he reluctantly trudged after them as his mother had asked him to do. Alyssa could tell that Triana’s older brother desired to be anywhere else, but with those ocean blue eyes and his wealth of dark hair, she had always found herself rather infatuated with him.
Travell.
She shivered as his name flitted through her mind, but it wasn’tdue torevulsion or anythingderogatory. In truth, she had never really stopped admiring him, and over the years, he had turned from a fascinating young man into quite a devilishly handsome gentleman. Unfortunately, while Alyssa and Triana had remained close, other than a polite greeting from Viscount Curdiff now and again, she might have thought those carefree days had never even existed.
Alyssa sighed, but as she started to turn away and make her way back to the Breyton estate, she caught a glimpse of a carriage meandering up the drive. She paused and watched as the vehicle stopped and a tall figure alighted. Her breath caught, for it could be no one other than the viscount himself.
She frowned slightly, for she imagined Travell spent most of his time in London, but as the footmen began to remove the trunks piled atop the coach, she had to wonder if he intended to remain a while.
And that thoughtimmediatelycaused her heart to pick up speed.
***
Travell paused at thefrontdoor and turned his head toward the hills surrounding his estate. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but some prickling of awareness had caused him to scan the area, but other than the few trees that were starting to shed their leaves, he found nothing out of the ordinary.
He resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck, deciding that his discomfiture was due to the fact he was back home.
And so was his father.
Steeling himself for the battle ahead, he handed his things over to the butler and asked curtly, “Where is he?”
“We have restrained the earl in his chamber, my lord.”
Restrained.So it was worse than hehadimagined.
He climbed the stairs to the master’s chambers and found a footman guarding the door. Travellkepthis armsfirmlyat his sides as heresisted the urge to scrub a hand down his face. Steeling himself,he forced himself to walk forward and, after taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
The Earl of Trenton was dressed ina nightshirt, a blanket covering half of his body while leather straps were keeping his arms bound to the wooden bedposts. He appeared to be asleep, but the dried spittle around his mouth told Travell what he needed to know.
He’d always heard the expression“mad as a hatter”in regards tohow hatsweremade with mercury, in which the process of working with such poison substances slowly drovethose making theminsane. He never thought the same phrase would ever be connected with his sire, but the evidence was there in the uneven cadence of his breathing and the slight jerks in his movements, his unconscious state at odds against the madness.
Suddenly, the older man’s eyes opened and he stared at Travell. “My boy!” he said almost maniacal. “Home from Eton already?”
