PROLOGUE
“Whereiseveryone?” Theodora Dowell’s teeth chattered as the heavy oak door slammed shut behind her.
A draft drifted through the foyer and chilled her bones. She winced, shivering as the echo of her voice died away. The house was unnaturally still.
Theodora had intended to stay the night at the Thornwall estate where Evelina, her sister, the Dowager Countess of Thornwall, lived. But Theodora felt a sudden urge to come home where her books and research lay waiting. She had never been out late before, and as she made her way home, her thoughts brimmed with scientific ideas about how the world changed at night.
“Mrs. Bellfry?” Theodora called out but their housemaid and servants were nowhere to be found.
Perhaps, Father gave them the evening off.
Theodora’s head snapped around when she heard a giggle drifting from down the hallway. It was a sound entirely out of place for such a late hour. Theodora frowned then smiled to herself.
It must beMother.
Lady Dowell, the Viscountess, must have returned early from her retreat in Bath. She heard her father’s laughter next. It was a rare, welcome sound; her parents’ marriage was often defined by a brittle, polished silence and to hear them laughing together felt like a small miracle.
Theodora bypassed the stairs, her pulse quickening with the desire to share her new research idea and check on her mother’s spirits. She imagined the scene: her father, Benjamin, Lord Dowell, perhaps relaxed for once, sharing a glass of port with his wife by the fire.
Theodora reached the study door and without a second thought, fueled by a rare burst of daughterly affection, turned the brass knob.
“I’m back early! Mother, I must tell you?—”
The words caught in her throat.
The scene before her was not a domestic tableau of matrimonial bliss. It was a frantic scramble of limbs and silk. Her father wasentangled with a woman whose blonde curls were a chaotic mess against the dark leather of his settee.
She was horrifyingly young. And she was most certainly not Mother.
Theodora’s breath hitched as the realization hit her like a blow to her chest. The world tilted. She watched, paralyzed, while her father lunged upward, his face a mask of primal irritation and shame. He shielded the girl with his bulk, his fingers trembling as they fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat.
“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed, his voice a serrated blade that sliced through Theodora’s shock.
She could not move. Her boots felt nailed to the floorboards. The girl scurried past her and Theodora remained a statue, her gaze fixed on the rumpled rug, the discarded corset, and the wreckage of her respect for the man standing before her. Lord Dowell stalked towards her, buttoning his shirt with aggressive movements.
“You will tell no one of this,” he hissed.
Theodora tried to speak, but her throat had constricted into a tight, painful knot. This was the man who demanded absolute propriety and lectured her on the sanctity of their family name. He stepped into her personal space, his shadow engulfing her. He placed his hands on her shoulders like a heavy, suffocating weight.
“Do you hear me, Theodora? Not a soul. I will straighten this out, but until then, this stays between us. Understood?”
She did not nod. She couldn’t.
No, I do not understand.
She longed to say those words, but her silence seemed to satisfy her father. He let out a sharp, dismissive breath and walked past her into the hall, leaving Theodora alone in the room that smelled overbearingly sweet. She would never forget the stench of her father’s mistress’s cloying perfume. It was the smell of shame and sin.
It was the smell of betrayal.
CHAPTER 1
ONE MONTH LATER
“People do not ‘fall’ in love. Our nerves simply go through a mechanical vibration that the poets have seen fit to misname,” Theodora said, picking up a book by biologist and philosopher Luigi Galvani.
The ladies, and members of theCorset Chroniclesall groaned in their seats. Theodora was proud to be the sister of the founder ofCorset Chronicles. After Count Burville’sunfortunatepassing, Evelina decided to create a secret society with her closest friends and Theodora where they discussed books and gossip. The topics became more scandalous as time passed.
“Evelina, I thought you promised your sister was not going to bring one ofherbooks today?” Maria, the Duchess of Winterleigh, giggled into her tea.
