Chapter One
“It is quite dangerous, what you are doing, my lady.” Maria stood beside the bedchamber door clutching a dark wool cloak and a pair of riding gloves. The single candle burning upon the dressing table cast shadows across her face.
Seraphine took the cloak and fastened it quickly around her shoulders. “I am aware of that,” she whispered.
“Dangerous and perhaps a little mad,” Maria said.
“That as well,” Seraphine added.
Maria did not laugh. The absence of joviality only made Seraphine more aware of the pounding of her own heart. The house was quiet. Long silent corridors stretched beyond her bedchamber. Every servant had retired.
Midnight. Sneaking out of her home…former home.
The thought sent a fresh wave of irritation through her. Donmere House had belonged to her father. She had been born there. Learned to walk there. Learned to endure her father there.
Now William McConnaghy had arrived smiling and pleasant, only to inform her that she had thirty days to secure a husband or prepare herself for convent life at Westborough Abbey.
One month. Thirty days. Twenty-nine now.
The numbers haunted her, marching relentlessly through her thoughts as Maria handed her the gloves.
“You know that if you are discovered, there will be questions,” the maid whispered, watching her with open concern.
Seraphine tugged on the gloves and gave a faint shrug. “There are already questions.”
Maria folded her arms. “Yes, but these questions may involve why Lady Seraphine is creeping outside in the middle of the night.”
“I am taking my horse,” Seraphine pointed out as she pulled the second glove firmly into place. “You know that I need to do this,” she said quietly as she flexed her fingers inside her gloves. “Or I'll be living the life of a nun before the summer is out.”
Even now the words sounded absurd. A nun. At twenty years old. Because a cheerful, balding earl had decided efficiencywas preferable to compassion. The more she thought about her cousin and his pronouncement, the more infuriated she became. The man had threatened to banish her to an abbey while eating lemon cake.
Who did that?
Maria's expression softened. “I know.” She stepped forward and adjusted the cloak around Seraphine's shoulders. “You deserve better than Westborough Abbey.”
Unexpected emotion tightened Seraphine's throat. Most of the household staff had watched her grow up. Many had endured her father's temper alongside her. They understood exactly what the new Lord Donmere’s ultimatum meant. They knew she was running out of time.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Maria nodded and opened the servants' passage door. “Quickly.”
Together they slipped into the narrow corridor. The old passageways threaded through Donmere House like hidden veins, allowing servants to move unseen between rooms. Tonight, they served a different purpose entirely. Every creak of a floorboard seemed thunderous in the silence. Every shadow appeared suspicious. Seraphine found herself listening for sounds that never came, a door opening, a footstep, or even the Earl’s voice.
Ridiculous.
The man was almost certainly asleep, yet she could not entirely dismiss the image of him emerging from the darkness in a nightcap and demanding explanations. Not that he frightened her. Well, not exactly. He was hardly imposing. Forty-one years old, short, pudgy, and balding. Yet somehow, he had managed to overturn her entire future in a single afternoon. That required a certain sort of power.
They reached the rear entrance without incident. Maria eased open the door, and cool night air rushed inside.
“God be with you,” Maria whispered.
Then Seraphine slipped outside. Freedom felt remarkably similar to terror. The stables loomed ahead through the darkness. She crossed the yard as quietly as possible, grateful that the stablemaster had proven sympathetic to her situation. Her favorite mare stood saddled and waiting.
“Good girl,” Seraphine murmured, stroking the horse's neck.
The mare nudged her shoulder affectionately. At least someone remained pleased to see her. Within moments she was mounted. The estate gates stood open ahead of her, and beyond them the road disappeared into darkness. For one brief instant she hesitated.
This is reckless. Wildly reckless.
