Chapter 1
Theodosia
London, England
Summer, 1819
Dowager Lady Theodosia Dundas had a mind to burn every one of her mourning dresses. Each one she had worn begrudgingly, knowing that she didn’t miss or mourn the death of her husband, the late Viscount Dundas, for a single second. She hadn’t wished the man dead, even if she might have thought about it a few times. She rejoiced, however, because his death gave her the independence she desperately wanted for herself.
The garments before her had been the uniform that symbolized her last debt of servitude to the man. Theodosia’s maid, Jean, placed the dreadful dresses on Theodosia’s bed as she packed the clothing and belongings into a wooden trunk for their move. They stuck out like a sore thumb against the more appealing colors of the dresses she was now free to wear again.
A wide grin formed on Theodosia’s face. Why on earth would she bring them with her into her new life? She was finally on the other side of a year-long sentence to play the part of the distraught wife as was expected of her. But that was wholly and completely finished. She didn’t need the miserable black color bringing down the vibrant colors of her wardrobe.
“You can donate all of those,” Theodosia said, pointing to the pile of dresses that awaited Jean to pack them into a large trunk. “Or repurpose the fabric for something else of need.” Or burn them. That would suit her just fine if she didn’t know that others could benefit.
“All of them?” Jean asked, eyes wide.
Theodosia nodded. “You may keep any or all that you wish to have for yourself, and whatever is left, please give them away, as I shall never wear a single one of them again.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Jean said, already eying the fine fabric. If nothing else, the gowns she had fashioned from her husband’s funds would bring someone else joy. Perhaps after years of being a miserable bitch, she’d learned to care about the feelings of others. But it was also another dig at the man, given that a servant’s joy was certainly a matter he would never have given even a second’s thought.
A knock sounded at the door. “Enter.”
Her butler, Pruett, entered. “Lady Mulgrave is here to see you, my lady.”
“I shall be down directly. Please have tea brought in for us while we await luncheon.” She had arranged for her closest friend, Rebecca, to join her before Theodosia departed for her new life at her very own estate, Rosewood, free to live as she pleased, including whatever company she might wish to keep.
Theodosia’s cheeks heated at the thought. The freedom to live as a wanton widow of society, taking any man she wished to her bed. It had consumed so many of her thoughts while she was in mourning.
She shook off the woolgathering. “Do you need me to send someone up to help you, Jean?”
Her maid waved her off. “I have things well in hand. Enjoy your visit, my lady.”
Nodding, Theodosia turned on her heel and departed her chamber.
She had been quite fortunate that the distant cousin who’d inherited the viscountcy after Dundas passed had been far kinder than most men would have been. Kinder than her husband and father combined. He’d generously allowed her to make use of one of his townhomes during her mourning period while renovations were being completed at Rosewood.
Her father might have allowed Dundas to pay for a young, virgin bride, but at least she came out of the deal with a short marriage, an estate, and money to live on.
The new viscount even supplied her with a full staff of servants, many of whom would go with her once she departed.
It was likely because he wasn’t a man brought up as part of the ton and wasn’t as hardened by the pettiness of society. If Dundas had secured an heir, or if rather Theodosia had given him one, the man would have never inherited.
When she reached the drawing room, she found Rebecca already seated on the settee.
“I’m so glad you could come.”
“Of course,” Rebecca said, rising so they could buss each other’s cheeks. “Harrison had business to tend to in Town and then we shall return to our country home until after the babe is born.”
Rebecca had wed the Earl of Mulgrave a couple of years prior in a surprising, unexpected meeting and instant love match. The pair had encountered each other at an inn as if fate herself had intervened. Mulgrave had been one of the most elusive rakes of their society, and since he’d fallen in love with Rebecca, indeed he’d been reformed. And in around five or six more months, they would welcome their second child into the world.
“How are you feeling? Are you as ill as you were last time?” Theodosia asked.
Rubbing her stomach, Rebecca grinned. “The sickness wasn’t as dreadful this time, which I am quite thankful for. Harrison worries, and he would have insisted on coming with me today if I hadn’t been feeling well.”
A small tinge of jealousy struck Theodosia. Not that she would begrudge her friend a life of happiness. Perhaps others, but not Rebecca. They had been almost inseparable since they were children. She felt a surge of happiness for her friend, even as she acknowledged the stark contrast to her own life. There was no handsome prince lying in wait to save her from her cruel, unfeeling father or from the many nights where she lay lifeless beneath an aged man she loathed, hoping that her husband wouldn’t take long to tire from his exertions. Her life was much more akin to some sort of tragedy performed on the stage.
From her first season on the Marriage Mart, she had allowed jealousy to consume her, constantly comparing the shortcomings of her life to the lives of others in their society. But if the time spent married to Dundas had taught her anything, it was that envying the joy and mirth of others would do nothing to change the outcome of her situation.
She knew she must make her own happiness, and fate presented her with the path when it made her a widow with the means to live in whatever way she chose.
“Tess, are you certain you wish to live on your own?” Rebecca asked, using the childhood nickname that she and her brother, Court, had given to Theodosia.
Before Theodosia could answer, a maid brought in the tea cart and rolled over to Theodosia’s side. She knew her friend would try to talk her out of moving away. Once the maid departed, Theodosia prepared Rebecca’s tea and then handed it to her before preparing her own.
“Tess?” Rebecca said, her tone sounding far too motherly for Theodosia’s liking. Her own mother had been a viper in her own right, constantly chastising her for the way she sat, the way she walked, the way she ate. It never ended. And still Theodosia mourned her when she passed away before Theodosia’s come out, because her mother was easy to tolerate compared to her father.
“I’ll just be in Kent,” Theodosia replied. “Not all that far, and close enough to visit when you are in Town. And we’ll write, of course. Besides, none of these haughty women even like me. They never have. Why would I wish to stay in London to be ignored with no social invitations?” She supposed there were more available men in the city if she had a mind to befriend one, but she’d reasoned that there would be men in the country, too. And far more privacy to come and go as she pleased.
The physical aspects of her marriage had been just as miserable as tolerating her husband’s presence. She could at least be thankful that the man hadn’t filled her womb with his child during the two tortuous years of their marriage. Not that he hadn’t tried, much to her displeasure.
And his, too, she supposed, since he blamed her as the reason that she hadn’t presented him with an heir. Although, from what she’d learned from discussing the matter with the doctor, the fault likely lay at Dundas’ feet, given his lack of performance or stamina. And that he had three wives before her, and only one had gotten with child, but the babe didn’t survive. But heaven forbid that a man admit to any wrongdoing, particularly in matters that challenge the effectiveness of their manhood.
She shuddered, pushing aside the memories of the times when she’d been intimate with her husband. If one could call it that. It was done out of obligation, at least on her part. She never told him ‘No’ or requested that he stop, but she wasn’t an eager participant.
Each time had been awkward and not all that pleasing. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have desires. She had learned to tend to her needs by her own hand, often before her husband would venture into her chamber, hoping the act would be a bit more pleasant.
“But you could come and stay with Harrison and me,” Rebecca countered, rubbing her hand along her stomach, which was still mostly flat with only the slightest of bumps.
Theodosia sighed, wishing she had thought about a scandalous visit to an inn to avoid her father marrying her off to Dundas. A method that had unexpectedly landed her friend a loving husband. All the while, Theodosia had attempted to trap various gentlemen, but none were met with success and the fate was the same. She hadn’t even been looking for love. Just men of a more appropriate age she might orchestrate being caught with her in a compromising position that would keep her from marrying Dundas.
The man’s depravity knew no bounds, as evidenced by his eagerness to secure an heir by arranging the marriage to Theodosia before his previous wife had even been dead and buried. It would seem that fate knew best in that regard to end the line with the despicable man.
“I can’t be a burden to you both,” Theodosia replied. “Besides, I think I shall enjoy coming and going as I please. I have been told what to do and had my life decided for me for far too long.”
Rebecca’s expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose you have. But you won’t be able to collect the latest gossip on everyone in the ton if you don’t at least come for the season.”
“If you are there, I shall come. And what do I care about keeping up with the latest scandals?”
Her friend feigned shock. “This from the most notorious gossip of the ton?”
Theodosia rolled her eyes and waved her friend off, before picking up the pot of tea and pouring herself another cup. “I never truly cared, other than desperately seeking information that might aid me in freeing myself from my father’s dealings.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes, as if to challenge what Theodosia had said. “And you aim for me to believe that is what led you to your constant interferences in the lives of others?”
“I was hateful and bitter then. You know that,” she replied, although she supposed that was still somewhat the case. She was practically dancing on the grave of her husband. “Those women had what I wanted. The entire ton seemed to eat out of the palms of their hands, while they got to marry handsome men of their choosing, who weren’t old enough to be their grandfathers.”
“And you aren’t bitter now?” Rebecca asked, appearing as if she had already decided the answer.
“Perhaps. But this past year I’ve had plenty of time to think while I pretended to be in mourning. And I think what I feel now is…free.”
“I would strangle your Papa if I could,” Rebecca seethed.
Theodosia chuckled. “I’m sure he’s drunk at some gaming hell somewhere playing cards. Have at him.”
Rebecca held out her cup, indicating she wanted more tea, to which Theodosia picked up the teapot and refilled it for her.
“Don’t tempt me. Is he still interfering in your life?”
Theodosia couldn’t hold back the deep scowl that formed on her face. “I haven’t seen him since he pushed me down the aisle to wed Dundas. He didn’t even bother to check on me or see how I fared after the funeral. The solicitor was kinder and more caring than my own father.”
“He’s a miserable bastard.”
Theodosia shrugged, as she had long accepted that her father wasn’t the man she hoped he might be. “But look at the bright side of the matter. Now I am free, and I have enough blunt and my small estate where I can live comfortably. I have no need for a man to support me. Many widows are far worse off.”
Rebecca sipped her tip and then set the saucer on the table. “I suppose you are right. Didn’t you tell me you joined some kind of league or club or something?”
“Lady Billings recommended me to join the Widows League, and let us hope you needn’t ever learn anything about it. But we widows must support each other. As you know, our society and laws protect men more than women.”
Rebecca shook off the distraction and rubbed her stomach again. “What do you intend to do with your newfound freedom if you don’t intend to frequent events in Town?”
There was a knock at the door, followed by Pruett entering. “My lady, luncheon is ready for you on the terrace.”
It was such a beautiful summer day that she’d thought it would be nice to eat outside for a change.
“We will be there in a moment.”
Pruett gave them a small bow and departed.
“You are avoiding my question,” Rebecca said, narrowing her eyes.
Theodosia rolled her eyes. “I am not. I shall live my life on my terms in my very own household and shall take anyone to my bed that I please.” There wasn’t a single hint of shame or embarrassment in her tone. She had done what was expected for far too long, and she’d never live under another man’s thumb again.
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “What? Do you have someone in mind? Have you met someone and not told me? Are you hoping to marry again?”
If only it were that simple. “‘No,’ is the answer to all of your questions. But I am done pretending to be a proper society miss. I have learned from the other widows in the league that my destiny is now mine to choose. And it all begins with me getting out into the world on my own.”
******
Theodosia would be the first to admit that she had scowled so much in her lifetime that people might think the expression was permanently etched on her face. She really had been a horrid viper to most people of her acquaintance, but she had learned from the best if her mother was any example. And she took to taking out the pain of her life on everyone around her, other than Rebecca.
But as she approached the path leading to her new home, Rosewood, an estate she called her own and would run as she saw fit, she smiled harder than she ever had before.
The home was perfect. It was a sizable enough estate to meet her needs, with the crops and livestock providing an income that would contribute additional funds for investments. She had learned about such things from one of the other savvy widows in the league, and had her solicitor put everything in motion.
While she learned everything about estate management during her pretend mourning period, she coordinated the renovations so the home would be ready for her. She had handpicked the draperies and furnishings to suit her exact tastes, and she did so asking no one for their approval or opinion. The home would truly be hers in every way.
Jean sat across from her in the carriage, staring out the window as they approached. The carriage behind them carried Clive and a couple other servants, and then a cart behind that held the various trunks and items she brought with her from London.
When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of her home, she hurried out, the scent of the massive rose bushes lining the front of the house already consuming her senses. She drew in a long breath, inhaling the beautiful scent, a mix of the flowers and freedom.
It has been a long, miserable road, some of her own making and the rest at the hands of her father’s decisions. But it was all in the past and her new life had finally begun.
The sun warmed her face as she looked up at the house, beaming. She wasn’t certain that she’d ever stop smiling now that the culmination of her dreaming and planning had finally come to fruition.
“Tess? Is that you? I thought I heard carriages,” a familiar voice called out to her.
The smile dropped from her face in an instant and her jaw almost hit the gravel at the sight of the man in front of her. What in the devil was he doing here?
“What in the devil are you doing here?” Court asked.
Her thoughts exactly, but he was the one trespassing in her home.
“Did your father send you here?” he asked, his expression shifting to one of annoyance.
Court stepped closer, looking every bit as handsome as he always had for the years she’d known him. He was Rebecca’s older brother and the Earl of St. Germans, and also one of the most notorious rakes and rumored debauchers of the ton.
Putting his reputation aside, his dark hair was just a bit longer than was fashionable, and she could see his emerald-green eyes sparkling from where he stood. And she wouldn’t be a warm-blooded woman if she didn’t notice the way his breeches clung to his thighs and the fine cut of his coat.
She attempted to shake off the wanton thoughts about his appearance amid the shock of seeing him there, but then he pulled her into a familiar hug. The act was unexpected and did nothing for her ability to keep her body from reacting to him. Her nipples had already hardened from being pressed to his hard chest.
Once he released her, she took a couple of steps back, hoping the space between them might help her regain control over herself. Besides, she still had no idea why on earth he was there.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice raspy as she fought for the words.
He eyed her curiously. “That is what I asked you. Surely your father didn’t send you all the way here to…” his voice trailed off when he noticed the other carriages that had pulled up and stopped behind hers. “Why do you have so many trunks?”
“I am moving into my home. And I am confused about how you were able to get inside. Did the staff let you in?”
He shifted on his feet and swallowed hard. “I used my key,” he said, casting her a sympathetic glance.
“I don’t understand.” She heard his words, but they made little sense.
“Your father must have neglected to tell you, but I won this estate from him.”
Her chest heaved from how she fought to control her temper. “What do you mean you won it from him?”
“Why don’t you come inside, and we can discuss this there.”
He reached for her arm, but she jerked it away.
“Don’t treat me as if I am a guest in my own home.” He was out of his fucking mind. Whatever game he aimed to play wasn’t funny in the slightest.
“I’m sorry, Tess, but this is my property. Your father lost it to me in a card game.”
She fisted her hands at her sides. “It wasn’t his to lose. The property belongs to me, and he can’t gamble with a property that doesn’t belong to him.”
“I assure you, Tess. I am in possession of the deed to Rosewood, and my solicitor has verified its authenticity. This is now my property.”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as her throat had gone completely dry. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be true. Her father couldn’t have done this to her again. To take her freedom and her chance to live her own life. This was a mistake. Surely she’d awaken from the nightmare and all would be as it was supposed to.
And that was the last thought she had before everything went black.
