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Returning to her dresser, Maggie opened her jewelry box and gazed at the amethyst necklace with matching earrings ensconced in a red velvet cushion. They were a recent gift from Tobias and proof of his devotion for her. She picked up the necklace, turned to the looking glass, and set the jewel to rest against her pale chest. The purple gem sparkled. It was truly breathtaking.

Just then, the door to her bedchamber opened, and Maggie turned to see her maid, Hattie, enter. She was a well-spoken matronly woman of middle age, who came from a merchant family far better off than Maggie’s, but her husband had fallen into financial ruin a few years prior, forcing Hattie into servitude. Hattie bore her misfortune with grace, and she’d been good company to Maggie over the years.

“Oh, good, you’re just in time,” she said to Hattie. “I’ve picked the purple muslin for the opera tonight. What do you think about that?”

“I think you’ll have no need for it,” Hattie said, and Maggie heard the sympathy in her voice. “Lord Tidworth’s messenger was just here, and His Lordship has canceled your engagement for tonight.”

“Canceled, again?” Maggie felt the words like a blow to her stomach as she fumbled for her chair. This was the fourth time he had broken an engagement with her. Indeed, she had not seen him even once in two weeks, and although she’d tried her best to deny it, she knew what it meant. She’d known ever since that night at the theatre in Drury Lane. The night he could not take his eyes off the beautiful young actress on stage who’d played Ophelia. Maggie remembered the young woman’s lush red tresses and her mesmerizing hazel eyes. She was a lovely creature indeed, no more than eighteen years of age—close to the age Maggie had been when Tobias first laid eyes on her.

“You can always return home, can you not?” Hattie said kindly. “Do you remember when you first came here, how much you missed your siblings? They will be glad to see you again, I’m sure.”

“Return home!” Maggie stared at her maid. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“That’s what the last young lady did—the one who lived here before you.”

“Before me?” Maggie’s heart stilled. “Someone…another woman? Why are you only telling me about this now?”

“Oh my dear, have you learned nothing in your five years in London?”

Maggie shuddered. It was all too much to deny now. The red-haired actress, the canceled engagements, and his continuous absence. Tobias had grown tired of her, and the thought of returning to the countryside as a discarded mistress sent a chill down her spine. It was something she had never considered because she’d believed Tobias when he’d said he loved her, and that she was the only woman in the world for him. And why not? She’d never known love before. What had she understood of men, women, and love when he’d landed on the doorstep of her cottage? She’d been an innocent and perhaps a fool as well.

Aware that she was still clutching the amethyst necklace, she gazed down at it. She had accumulated a treasure full of jewelry over the past five years. Surely those would be enough to help her start anew.

“He won’t let you take that, I’m afraid,” Hattie said, following Maggie’s gaze. “A few dresses, perhaps, but not the jewels. They’ll be given to his new mistress.”

“Be silent!” Maggie stood up and turned on the maid. She loved Hattie and had never spoken to her thus, but the maid’s comment felt cruel, and it wounded her deeply. This was all a misunderstanding. It had to be. Tobias loved her, and he’d promised to marry her as soon as he was free and able. He’d told her so a thousand times. “I won’t hear any more of this, Hattie,” she said. “Be gone, now. I want to rest.”

Hattie nodded and made to leave the room. But she paused before exiting and said, “I should write to my family if I were you. Think on it. It’s too harsh a world to roam it friendless.”

Once Hattie left, Maggie sank back onto her chair, trembling. Hattie is wrong. She clutched the necklace to her chest. Tobias loves me. He’ll forget the actress soon enough. But the thought gave her little relief when a voice in the back of her mind whispered, King Henry loved Anne Boleyn once too. But that did not stop him from cutting off her head.

Chapter Three

After a fitful night, Maggie was in no mood for breakfast. She’d been unable to sleep, worrying about her future and what Tobias had in store for her. Did he truly no longer love her? How could that be? He’d sworn she was the love of his life—that he could not live a day in this world without her. And she loved him still—dearly. Their love was strong. If only she could speak with him, then everything would be back to normal.

“You ought to eat a little something,” Hattie said. “Perhaps you don’t recall, but eggs are dear to some folk. It’s a sin to waste them.”

“Oh, do leave me be, Hattie!” Maggie said, aware that she was acting like a spoilt child. Is that what she had become? She stared at the boiled egg in front of her. Hattie was right. Only five years ago, she would not have been so entitled as to leave food on her plate.

She picked up her spoon and used it to crack the shell. Then she plunged it into the egg’s white flesh and scooped up a spoonful. Forcing it into her mouth, she chewed methodically. When she swallowed, the egg stuck in her throat, so she reached for her tea to wash it down. Maggie struggled to finish the rest of her breakfast but finish it she did. If Tobias discarded her, who knew when she’d have the luxury of a full stomach again. And what of her family? Tobias had been sending them money these past five years at her request; would they go hungry too?

Just as she was about to rise from the table, she heard Hattie return to the dining room.

“See, Hattie,” she said without looking up at the maid. “I finished all that was on my plate. What do you have to say about that?”

“I say that I was unaware I looked like Hattie.”

“Tobias!” Maggie jerked her head up. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“What do you mean? Do I require an appointment to see you nowadays?” His voice had an unusually sharp edge to it, and it gave Maggie pause.

“I only meant that I would have liked to have bathed and had Hattie fix my hair before I saw you, so I looked presentable.” She got to her feet.

“I don’t need you to look presentable,” he said, running his hand across her breast covered only by her thin nightgown. “I’m not here for that.”

He smelled like an odd mixture of spirits and jasmine. Maggie pushed his hand away. “Where were you last night? I thought we were to attend the opera.”

“Good God! Am I to be grilled by you as to my whereabouts now?”