Prologue
Helmsbury Manor was grand and comfortable, but Poppy’s new friend Aurora had been right about her mother’s lectures. By her third day as a guest, Poppy was so tired of the droning on about behaving like a proper lady, she sneaked out before tea and went for a long walk around the property. After all, Aurora might have to listen, but Poppy had her own mother and had heard her fair share of the same kind of drivel over the years.
She’d been sent from home dreading her fate at Miss Agatha Wormbattle’s School for Young Ladies, and now she wished they would leave sooner. They would leave in five days and meet two other girls in London before they all would travel to Lucerne together and spend three years learning to behave like proper young ladies. Father thought it a punishment for bad behavior, but anything that took her out of his purview was a blessing.
It was a beautiful day with a light breeze and blue skies. She trudged across a lawn toward a line of trees at the top of the hill, stumbled, and smudged a grass stain on her pale blue dress. Brushing at the newest stain, she resigned herself to always having a stain or two on her clothes. Tea would have been nice, but enjoying a long walk was far better. All she had to do was figure out how to avoid the countess for the remaining two days of her stay. Then she and her lovely new friend would be free of critical parents while they attended the Swiss boarding school. Poppy only hoped that Aurora was right about their ability to handle Headmistress Agatha Wormbattle. Admittedly, they were both clever girls who’d managed a fair amount of mischief. Letting the lively thought fill her, she reached the crest of the hill and froze.
Shirtless, Aurora’s elder brother, Rhys, had a woman with long brown hair and her dress bunched around her waist pressed against a tree. It was scandalous behavior for a man who would one day be the Earl of Marsden. He’d been nuzzling the woman’s neck, his golden hair falling to his collar when Poppy stepped into the stand of trees.
She must have gasped at the unexpected sight, as Rhys’s head snapped up. Their gazes met.
Not knowing what to do, she fumbled for words. “Satan’s beard. I’m…I…I beg your pardon.” Turning, she ran back toward the house with her cheeks on fire.
Laughter, both masculine and feminine, followed her as she dashed away from the tawdry scene.
Despite her bravado in most situations, she had never seen a man with so little clothes on before. Rhys Draper’s neck was corded, his shoulders wide and muscular, while his waist narrowed where his golden flesh disappeared beneath tan breeches. She had trouble catching her breath, and she was not at all sure it was from the dash back to the house.
“Poppy, are you all right?” Aurora called from the gazebo where she sat with a book.
So close to escaping to the house and running to her bedroom where she might claim a headache and avoid seeing anyone for the rest of the day, Poppy sighed and meandered closer. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired and was going to go upstairs for a rest.”
Putting her book aside, Aurora narrowed her gaze. “You looked flushed, and you were running as if you’d seen a snake. What happened to your dress?”
“It’s nothing. I’m quite all right.” Poppy sat across from Aurora in the gazebo. “What are you reading?”
“I’m not. I’m pretending to read A Lady Must Always Be a Solemn Creature in order to avoid Mother.” She changed to a soft conspiratorial whisper. “I would like to read the Gretchen Tormblat novel Danger Deep at Sea I bought the last time I walked to town. But that will have to wait for the journey. I’ve been collecting reading material and plan to continue as we travel.”
Glad for the subject to turn away from her, Poppy said, “I haven’t read that one. I managed to borrow a copy of Mrs. Tormblat’s The Pirate Cave from my neighbor’s daughter back home, and I found it very distracting.”
“That’s what I love about the books, so thrilling and filled with adventure. You may read any you like from my collection. My maid will sneak them in my bag once Mother has made her inspection.”
Poppy pulled her feet up on the bench and wrapped her arms around her knees. “My mother inspected my trunk as well. Unfortunately, Willa has not been my maid but a week. I could not trust her to hide reading material. Mother found three romantic novels by Priscilla Prettifield at the bottom and promptly tossed them in the trash. I was quite vexed.”
Aurora shook her head. “Do not fret; we shall replace those books. Did your parents give you pin money?”
“Yes, and I have some saved they didn’t know about. I’m quite solvent.” Proud of herself, Poppy hoped her new friend was trustworthy.
“Excellent. I have also been saving. Ever since they told me I would be sent away, I’ve been saving half of my pin money in case I need it while we’re in Switzerland. I have made Mother believe I’m sad about being sent away, but truly, I can’t wait.” Aurora leaned her head back against one of six posts that held the roof and smiled.
It was impossible not to like Aurora, and Poppy was thrilled to have a friend to rely on for the next three years. “You may be right, Aurora. We shall have a marvelous adventure.”
Her joy fled an instant later when Rhys appeared from around the shrubs at the other side of the garden and strode toward them.
“Hello, Rhys,” Aurora said. “Why are your clothes so wrinkled?”
Poppy wanted to crawl away and hide. Cheeks heating, she was sure her blush was obvious. The last thing she wanted was for Rhys to know how embarrassed she was by what she’d seen. It was impossible to seem worldly when a man’s bare back sent her running across the countryside.
Rhys raised his eyebrows and stared at Poppy for a long moment. “I was frolicking with someone from town. A bit of fun.”
Aurora smiled. “Well, don’t let Father see you looking so messy. He’ll throw a fit.”
Those sharp eyes of his settled on her for a long moment, perhaps waiting for a comment. “I’m going to clean up now,” he assured his sister. “Lady Penelope, what did you do with your afternoon?” A wicked smile twisted his full lips.
Were they so red because of kissing that woman? Poppy didn’t know and couldn’t imagine why she cared. Her stomach was in knots. She knew one thing for certain: as much as she liked Aurora, if she never saw Rhys Draper again it would be too soon. “Nothing of note. I took a walk around the property.”
“And how did you like the views?”
Perhaps he was teasing, but Poppy wanted to die. She wouldn’t have it. This being made to feel small by a boy would not do. “While the vistas are lovely here, I saw nothing notable.”
Frowning, he examined his shoes. “I see. Well, perhaps your next visit to our home will be more interesting.”
“As you know, I’ll be far away for three years learning how to behave like a proper lady. You’ll likely be married off to some very fine lady by that time and we shall never meet again.” Preferring the strong tone of her voice, she didn’t care that her words were cutting.
Aurora watched, looking from one to the other. “I feel as if I’ve missed something. But I am sure Rhys will not be married before I return from school. I’ll be very annoyed if you were to marry without me.”
He kissed his sister’s cheek. “And I would never do so. I wish I could talk Father out of this, Rora. I have tried to keep you home, but you do yourself disservice with your constant disobedience.”
Smiling, she shrugged and stood up. “I am what I am, Rhys. I cannot change to please Father and not even for you.”
He hugged her tight. “I would not have you change, just obey enough to keep you at home where I know you’re safe.”
She swatted his chest. “They are sending us to a fortress in the mountains. We’ll be perfectly safe and far enough away so I will no longer embarrass our esteemed parents. Speaking of our parents, I promised Mother I would meet with her before dressing for dinner. I must go. Will you escort Poppy in?”
“Of course.”
Aurora rushed to the house and was gone.
The awkward silence hung between them. Rhys remained guarding the entrance to the gazebo, and Poppy had no way out but to push him aside. Not wanting him to suspect how uncomfortable he made her, she held her place. “Are you just going to stand there and glare at me?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t tell my sister what you witnessed.” He stepped a few feet away and scratched his head.
Poppy took advantage and made a quick exit from her trapped position. “I like your sister and she obviously thinks the world of you. I have no desire to hurt her with the truth.”
Narrowing his gaze, he closed the gap between them. “What truth is that?”
“Perhaps I am mistaken, but to debauch young women in the woods is not exactly gentlemanly. If you thought it was acceptable behavior, you wouldn’t be so relieved I kept your secret.” She backed away until the path to the house was beside her.
“I haven’t done anything wrong. Mimi is more than willing. You make me sound lecherous.” He gripped the edge of his coat and kicked the pebbled path.
Pulling back her shoulders, she looked into those winter-sky eyes. “I think you are well on your way to becoming a perfect English gentleman.”
“And what of you with your bad behavior and stained dress? You’re not exactly on your way to becoming a well-bred lady.”
“I never claimed to be. Besides, I don’t think my stumbling and ruining a dress is comparable to what you’ve been doing with who knows who. You’re a scoundrel, I’m just a lummox.”
His frown deepened, and something dark glared in his eyes. “You have no right to judge me.”
“Hades’s blood, I only tell what I see.” Her heart pounded in her throat. He stepped toward her.
Poppy ran to the house and up to her room without looking back.
Chapter 1
Six Years Later
“I’m sorry if I offend anyone, but I am glad he’s dead.” Poppy hated funerals, but as she walked into Aurora’s home on West Lane, she was happy her friend was free of that monster. The Earl of Radcliff had deserved what he’d gotten, and her friend’s three-year marriage had been too long. Poppy had behaved herself all morning. Now with only her three closest friends and Aurora’s brother, Rhys, to hear her, she had to let it out.
Rhys Draper, recently elevated to the Earl of Marsden after his father’s passing, frowned at her. “Really, Penelope. Must you say such things?” He stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest leaning against the wall near the window, and his blond hair touched his collar. All remnants of the skinny boy had been replaced by muscle over the last few years, but Poppy was determined not to notice. His roguish behavior far outweighed any pleasure she might take from his good looks.
The lady’s parlor of Aurora’s townhouse on West Lane was their gathering place. The Earl of Radcliff’s death was the only reason Rhys had tagged along after the funeral. It was the only room in the house with a feminine flair, cream-colored walls and a buttery rug. The overstuffed furniture was covered in a similar fabric, and lace curtains shielded them from the street.
Aurora pulled the black veil off her face and over the brim of her hat before removing the pins and tossing the hat on the table near the door. It bumped a vase of flowers sent by someone with condolences and slid to the floor. Her golden hair was coiled at the back of her head in tiny braids, and her pale blue eyes were clear. All the fear, which had marred them for three years, had died with Bertram Sherbourn, Earl of Radcliff. “You’ll get no argument from me, Poppy.”
Faith picked up the hat and placed it more firmly on the table. Taking a deep breath accentuated her full curves as she tucked her wild brown hair behind her ear. She took Aurora’s hand, and the two sat on the divan. “He was a miserable sod and none of us are sorry he’s gone. Still, Poppy, it’s not nice to speak ill of the dead.” Her sweet voice was in direct contrast with her words.
Holding back a chuckle at the double standard Faith set, Poppy shared a knowing look with Mercy, who shrugged and smiled. “I suppose I must say nothing at all then. I certainly won’t say anything nice about him.” Poppy sat on the chair to Aurora’s left.
Curling up on the chaise, her long legs bending until she took up little space despite her tall stature, Mercy pushed her spectacles up on her nose. Her strawberry-blond waves pulled up to expose an elegant neck and shoulders. “Then we shall find another subject or sit in silence. What do you want to talk about, Aurora?”
“I think I’d just like to call for tea and sit here. Can we do that? Can we forget I was ever married and act as if we were just getting home from Lucerne, four wallflowers hell-bent on embarrassing our families?”
Patting her hand, Faith narrowed her eyes on Poppy as if daring her to continue the unwanted conversation. “Of course we can.”
Poppy stifled a chuckle and held up her hands in defeat. Faith rarely put her foot down, and it was clear this was one of those times.
“Should I leave you ladies?” Rhys asked, still manning his post against the wall.
Aurora smiled. “No. Come and sit with us, Rhys.”
“Ring for tea before you sit,” Poppy added with a smile. She had never gotten along with Aurora’s older brother. Her experience with him as a child had colored her opinion, and from the stories she’d heard over the years, he’d changed little.
There was that frown again. A typical man, he couldn’t bear one small order from a woman. Still, he pulled the cord and a maid ran in a moment later.
Aurora sent the girl for their tea.
The frown lines around Rhys’s mouth deepened, and his brows drew together. “I know Radcliff was a difficult man, but does he deserve so little respect in death? He did leave you a living, a title, and this house.”
All focus was on Aurora. She had kept her situation a secret from her brother because there was nothing he could have done about it. Their father had made the contract with the Earl of Radcliff while the girls were still away at Miss Agatha Wormbattle’s School for Young Ladies in Switzerland. They had all been excited about the first of their misguided group to get married and about coming home after a three-year exile for bad behavior. The reality was far different and had kept the rest of them from accepting any proposals since.
“I don’t know if I can tell him.” Aurora looked at Mercy and Poppy with eyes filled with tears, not for her dead husband but for the pain she was about to inflict on her brother.
“Shall I do it?” Poppy would open a vein for any of the Wallflowers. Telling a horror story to an arrogant earl was nothing.
Aurora nodded and wiped her eyes.
Arms once again crossed over his broad chest and his mass of blond hair hiding one eye, Rhys peered across the coffee table at Poppy. Awkward in the ornate French country-style chair, he waited. “Well?”
Where he had been gentle with Aurora, his tone was harsh when he addressed Poppy.
For her friend’s sake, she would be as kind as possible. “Demon’s breath. Bertram Sherbourn was a monster. He abused your sister on a daily basis when he bothered to come home.”
“Poppy?” Mercy pushed her glasses up on her nose, her eyes holding a warning.
Poppy glanced in Mercy’s direction before returning her attention to Rhys and continuing. “It’s best to tell him the truth at this point. Besides calling her all manner of names and forcing his attentions on her, he beat her so badly that on several occasions, we had to call a doctor. Once she lay unconscious for two days….”
“Penelope…” Faith’s tawny eyes widened with alarm, and she shook her head.
Rhys flinched as if he’d been struck in the stomach with a bludgeon. “This cannot be true.”
“Of course it’s true,” Poppy said. “Your father married her to an earl because that was all he cared about. He did not bother to check to make sure she would be safe with a villain.”
White faced, his eyes begged for someone to contradict her. “Rora?”
Poppy felt a pang of remorse for her lack of grace with words.
“I’m sorry, Rhys. I’m afraid it’s true.” Aurora looked at her brother and then at her own hands twisting in her lap.
Faith patted Aurora’s hands and finally fought through her grip so she could hold one. “We would not lie to you, Rhys.”
He jumped up, and the chair fell backward, crashing to the floor. Staring into the corner of the room, his face burned bright red and his chest rose and fell in sharp breaths. His strong jaw ticked with strain before he picked up the chair and stood, gripping the wooden frame. “Why did you never tell me this while he was alive?”
Mercy said in a level voice, “There was nothing you could do. Aurora did not want you to harm yourself in some vain effort to save her.”
“You had no right to keep this from me. After Father died, I became the head of this family. I would have helped you. You could have come home this last year, Rora.” He clung to the chair as if he wanted to hurl it across the room, but he held his temper.
Poppy had to admit, she was impressed with his restraint. Though she would never tell him that.
Standing, Aurora’s smile was weak. She went to her brother and kissed his cheek. “He would have come after me. I was his property. There is no law to keep me away from him. He would have been even angrier and more violent and one of us would have died. Either me, because Bertram would have gone too far, or you because you came after him and he killed you. I couldn’t live with the possibility.”
“I can take care of myself. I would have bested Radcliff and you might have been free of him sooner.” Pain etched lines around Rhys’s mouth. His full and maddeningly interesting lips pulled taught. He ran his hand through his hair.
Cocking her head and pressing her palm to his cheek, she sighed. “And then what of you? You think you could have killed an earl and not endured some consequence? As it turns out, he took care of it himself.”
“Well, with the help of the owner of the gaming hell he tried to cheat.” Poppy couldn’t stop herself.
Faith gave her a stern look.
Mercy hid a chuckle behind her hand.
“I should have known.” He hugged her tight. “I’m sorry, Rora. Father should have judged his character before allowing you to be betrothed.”
With a last pat on his back, Aurora eased away from him. Always the most elegant of their quartet, she glided back to the divan. Aurora’s figure was slim but stronger now that the fear of her husband was gone. “Yes. Well, Father was only interested in my becoming a countess, and he got that before he died. I was no longer an embarrassment to the Draper name and well married. I’m sure he thought he’d done right by me. Not to mention, the piece of land somewhere in the north he received in trade for my hand and dowry.”
“I wondered where that Cheshire property came from.” He paced the rug. “I would give that property to you, if you want, Rora. It seems the least the family can do.”
Tipping her head, she put her pinky on her lip. It was what she always did when considering something. “That is very generous, Rhys. Let me think about it.”
The maid brought tea and some sweets. Once they were all served, Faith cleared her throat. It meant she had news but she was uncomfortable sharing. Another polite ahem and she sipped her tea.
“What is it, Faith?” Mercy asked, her amusement clear behind her spectacles. Mercy’s keen sense of all that was ridiculous in their lives had gotten Poppy through many hard days at school. She only wished she had shared some of her grace. While Poppy was clumsy, Mercy was lithe and agile like the goddess Diana.
“What? Oh, it’s nothing.” She took a large bite of biscuit and had to work to chew such a mouthful. It would take her a moment to decide she was going to tell whatever was on her mind.
There was little doubt she would eventually open a discussion. They just had to be patient.
Rhys sat in the chair, sipping tea and watching with interest. He had a knack for keeping quiet and observing. Poppy had seen him sit in the background on several occasions over the last six years of their acquaintance. He was quite young when Poppy stopped at Helmsbury Manor, his family estate, on the way to school, but even then, he took everything in and if possible would use the information later. Even though they always bickered when they met, she admired his patience and wished more young men were as mindful.
Putting her cup and saucer on the table, Faith plastered a fake smile on her face. It was a most annoying expression. “I’m to be married to the Duke of Breckenridge.”
“What?” Aurora’s eyes widened.
“When?” Mercy’s hand flew to her chest.
“How?” Poppy’s heart dropped.
The simultaneous questions didn’t seem to faze Faith. She folded her hands in her lap and tipped up her pert chin. The effect was meant to make her look as if she had a leaner elegant figure, but it did nothing to hide the voluptuous curves that more than one man noticed each time they attended a ball. “Mother arranged it. I haven’t met him yet. He’s been in France for some months and only arrived back in England last week. I thought he might come to call but he hasn’t. Not yet.”
“Has your mother met him?” Poppy jumped up, hands flying in the air. She already guessed the answer but hoped for better.
Faith sniffed. “No. It was all arranged through letters. I read the letters when Mother informed me last week, and he seems quite…intelligent.”
Coming out of her skin, Poppy paced the room. She stumbled on the edge of the rug but righted herself. While her friends had become nimble young ladies, Poppy remained the clumsy oaf she’d always been. “We are not going through this again. You cannot marry a man we don’t know. I don’t care if he’s a duke or the prince himself.”
“I don’t see that I have a choice. It would be nice to meet him and perhaps for you three to get a look at him. Maybe then we’d know what I was getting into.” Another sniff and she pulled her handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.
Mercy turned to Rhys. “Do you know him, my lord?”
“I think you can call me Rhys in this setting, Mercedes. I’ve known all of you since you were girls just shipped off to Switzerland to be turned into fine young ladies.” His gaze settled on Poppy before he continued. “Unfortunately, I have never met the Duke of Breckenridge. All I know is he’s well respected in the House of Lords and has a massive estate in Hertfordshire. Supposed to be one of the nicest homes in all of England.”
“What’s he been doing in France?” Aurora also abandoned her tea with the troubling news.
Rhys shrugged. “I’m sorry. I have no idea. It could be he has property or business in France, and he is checking how it all fared after Napoleon. Perhaps he just likes to travel, and it is safe to visit the Continent once again.”
Poppy didn’t like the way Rhys seemed fine with not knowing. “Well that’s not good enough. I’m not watching another of my dearest friends walk into the arms of a monster. I need to know who he is and what kind of character he has. I say we do some investigating and ferret him out.”
“You’re mad.” Rhys stood to face her. “You intend to spy on a duke. And just how will you go abo. . .
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