Chapter One
London
January 28, 1815
The only thing that stood between Saraphina Lawrence and
Hades was a respectable marriage bed. Given her choice,
she would have leapt over the bed and raced straight into
the flames wearing nothing but the famed Lawrence
sapphires, her arms spread wide to embrace the wild heat.
It was a pity her brothers wouldn't get out of the way.
"Damn all interfering men," she muttered, staring morosely
out the window of the slow, plodding carriage.
Her aunt's eyes widened in the uncertain light that
shimmered across the silver strands at her temple. "I beg
your pardon?"
That was Aunt Delphi's answer to everything -- pretend you
didn't hear and look annoyingly innocent. So far it had
won her a duke who'd had the good grace to die within
twelve months of the wedding, and a handsome jointure that
gave her a startling amount of independence. Not that Aunt
Delphi ever used it.
"I said, 'Damn all interfering men,'" Sara repeated more
loudly. "I have been grossly misused, and you know it. I
was dragged out of my house --"
"To attend the social event of the season."
"-- and forced to ride in this decrepit coach --"
"As if Marcus would have anything other than the best
coach made."
"-- just because my brothers are determined to make me
into something I'm not." Sara scowled down at the brightly
jeweled slippers that peeped from beneath her skirts. They
pinched hideously, and had she not been determined to
irritate her brothers'tedious sense of decorum, she
wouldn't have worn the gaudy things. She slipped her feet
free and wiggled her toes in the cool evening air,
ignoring Delphi's look of disapproval.
Though she hated his arrogance, perhaps it was just as
well that Marcus had summoned her. It was time they
settled this issue once and for all. She was beyond
listening to solemn advice; every minute that she walked
on the border of ruin and challenged the stolid face of
society exhilarated her. For the first time since Julius's
death, she felt alive. Alive and free.
Aunt Delphi shook her head. "You have run mad. Since
Julius died, you --"
"He died, but I did not. And I refuse to act as if I did."
Everyone had watched and waited for her to show some
remorse, some hint of sadness, but she felt nothing. Not
after her handsome husband died much the way he'd lived --
with his breeches about his ankles and his private member
where it didn't belong. It was no wonder Lady Georges had
retired to the country after his death, it must have been
a shock to watch her near-naked lover fall out of her
carriage when her screams of ecstasy frightened the
skittish horses into bolting.
Even worse was the fact that the entire ton knew the
sordid truth. It had been the whispered joke of the
season. The mere thought of it pinched Sara's pride worse
than her shoes ever could. But strangely, the pain of
Julius's public betrayal had freed her in a way that his
death hadn't. She would never again waste her Iife trying
to be something she was not, no matter what Marcus
said. "My brother should pay more attention to his own
affairs and stop tormenting me."
"He cares about you, Sara. All of your brothers do."
"And I care about them. But I don't go around telling them
what to do. Marcus has sway over my funds until I am
twenty-five years old, and then I am free. If he wants any
peace in the next four years, he'll let me be."
Shaking her head, Aunt Delphi regarded her niece with
compassion. While Sara's behavior might befuddle her
brothers, Delphi understood it perfectly. Before Sara had
married, there had always been a touch of wildness to her.
She'd ridden harder, laughed louder, and been more
spontaneous than any gently bred woman should be. But
she'd always been surrounded by her brothers, all five of
them startlingly handsome and larger than life, just as
passionate in nature as their sister. To them, Sara was
just Sara -- exuberant and in love with life.
Then Sara had met Julius and all her passion had focused
on one man: she had loved him dearly. Julius had been in
love, as well, for his marriage had shocked his friends
even more than it had Sara's. She was not the sweet,
demure miss everyone expected him to wed.
But the relationship was doomed from the beginning.
Julius, for all his wild ways, was brought up in a very
traditional manner; he had one place in his life for his
wife and another for his mistresses. Meanwhile, Sara came
from a large, extended family and her ideas were quite
different. She believed that love included complete
fidelity and it never crossed her mind that her husband
might believe otherwise. Had Sara been older, perhaps she
would have demanded Julius give up his paramours. But
she'd been seventeen, with no mother to confide in and too
proud to ask for advice.
Delphi smoothed her silk skirts, a heavy lump in her
throat. If she had not been so occupied with silly society
pursuits, she might have been able to help her niece
during what must have been an increasingly confusing and
painful time. But Delphi, like everyone else, had missed
the desperation of Sara's subsequent actions. Directed by
Julius's critical mother and condescending sisters, she
traded her sparkle for a distressingly cool elegance. To
Delphi, it seemed that Sara's natural exuberance died a
slow and agonizing death while all hint of happiness faded
from her eyes.
And the more Sara changed, the unhappier Julius became as
the very things that had captivated him about his young
wife disappeared. By the time Julius died he and Sara were
little more than strangers, while the...
© 2003-2026