1
London, April 30, 1819
Aforeign scent teased Lady Edwina’s senses, forcing her groggy mind back from the depths of oblivion.The air in her lungs was thick, cloying, yet somehow soothing.Though her head was heavy, her body had never felt lighter.
She flicked her eyes open and peered through the muted haze that blanketed her surroundings: a sparsely furnished bedchamber, less ornate than what she was used to, yet elegant in its simplicity.It was lit by thin beams of light that fell through gaps in the dark red velvet curtains.
Edwina blinked, her vision momentarily blurring as she scanned the white walls.Her fingers flexed against the soft surface on which she lay, and a new sensation assailed her.Slippery silk or satin bedding.
The sluggish beat of her heart brought awareness back to her body.A shaky sigh of relief followed.She was still dressed in the gown she’d worn when she’d last left home, and the bedsheets weren’t rumpled.
This surely meant nothing untoward had occurred.Did it not?
But where was she, and why was she so exhausted?
Get up, get up, get up.
It took a tremendous effort to push onto one of her forearms.Maybe she should rest a bit longer before attempting to leave?
A sudden pain speared her skull.The room started tilting, and nausea followed as dizziness overwhelmed her.
No.She shook her head and fought the sensation of having to vomit.Her brother, Sebastian, would be wondering about her.She had to let him know she was well.
Struggling against the weak-limbed sensation encouraging her to collapse, she fought her way into a seated position.Every breath was an arduous effort, yet she managed to swing one leg over the edge of the bed.
With one hand pressed to the mattress, she supported her weight while her other hand went to the side of her head.
Squinting, she tried to focus her gaze, but her eyes were impossibly tired.She closed them briefly and attempted to think, but her brain felt like it was filled with mud.Still, she endeavored to wade through it — to figure out what had occurred and how she had ended up here.
A handsome face flashed through her mind.The gentleman she’d met in the park.Yes, that was it.She’d gone for a walk.Alone, unchaperoned, because she’d needed the solitude.That was what she’d been accustomed to at Faintree Hall, prior to coming to London.
Sebastian’s home on Cavendish Square, while large, had been too constrictive these past few weeks.Ever since Keith Orwell’s murder at Moorland House.She’d tried to get past it, had accompanied her brother to other events since, yet the heaviness in her soul lingered.
Silly perhaps since she’d barely known Mr.Orwell at all.She’d made his acquaintance no more than a couple of hours before he was found dead.
But she had enjoyed the one dance they’d shared.His company had lifted her spirits and made her appreciate coming to London.It had helped ease the guilt she’d felt over leaving her sickly sister, Claire, behind at Faintree Hall.Even though it was Claire who’d insisted Edwina experience a London Season.
Mr.Orwell’s brutal murder had shattered the fairy-tale atmosphere she’d found at her first ball.Despite not having seen his lifeless body herself, her vivid imagination conjured a vision that wouldn’t cease plaguing her.For the most part, she felt either numb or ready to burst into tears.
Hence, her desire to be alone so she could grapple with her emotions.
And then what?She fought her way through the fractured memories until additional details surfaced.
She’d been sitting on a bench in the park when he approached.The gentleman who’d inquired about her well-being.
An elegant calling card had provided her with his name.Mr.Ashton Havilland.
“Have you no chaperone?”he’d asked after she had assured him she was all right.
For a second, she’d thought of lying, then realized how ridiculous that would be when no one else was in sight.“Not at the moment.”
He’d huffed a breath and extended his arm.“In that case, please allow me the honor of seeing you safely returned to your home, Lady…?”
“Edwina,” she’d supplied before adding, “I’m the Duke of Wrengate’s sister.”
“Truly?”A mixture of surprise and concern had filled Mr.Havilland’s gaze.“I know your brother well.He’ll no doubt murder me if anything happens to you and he learns I abandoned you here.”
“You’re probably right, but he might murder me first for accepting help from a man to whom I have not been formally introduced.”
