“Ma chérie, you must go…leave while you can,” her mother said, her voice reedy and breathy. “Cook will care for me. I cannot protect you—and may not be here much longer. You must go.”
“I cannot leave you,Maman,” Selena whispered, choking on a sob. Taking a clean rag, she dipped into the bowl of cool water on the bedside table and sponged her mother’s fevered brow. Smoothing the strands of dark hair away from her azure eyes, Selena kissed her mother’s cheek.
Fighting back tears she prayed her mother would recover.
We’ve just lost Papa, I can’t lose you too.
Viscount Phillip Bowles passed away fifteen months ago when his heart had finally given out. He’d been with friends on a hunt; fortunately, they hadn’t traveled far when the attack came on. Acting swiftly, his friends carried him back to the house as quickly as possible.
His doctor shook his head. “There is nothing I can do for him,” his physician had told the viscountess and Selena in private. “I am amazed that he has lived this long—a tribute to his strength of will and generous spirit.”
Selena’s father had urged them not to fear the future and reassured them about his heir.
“Darlings,”her father had rasped on his deathbed, “He is a good and honorable young man. His father, Arthur, and I were cousins and friends when we were young. Percival will take good care of you.”
He expressed his love for each of them and, after kissing his wife, he took his last breath.
Mr. Percival Bowles had been the first officer on board the Midnight Maiden, a merchant vessel that had been at sea for nine months until docking in Portugal. It had taken the solicitors an additional six months to locate Mr. Bowles and inform him of his change in fortune.
Although grief-stricken, Selena and her mother had welcomed the new viscount with warmth and hope in their hearts.
They would realize immediately that Viscount Bowles was anything but honorable.
He was an evil tyrant.
The new viscount went nowhere without his servant, Grom.
Percival had swiftly installed the giant brute as the new butler. Poor Higgins, who had served the family for as long as Selena could remember, had been tossed out without a farthing.
“He’s lucky to get a reference,” Percival had declared.
In fact, Percival and his giant minion had fired all the servants — save for Maggie Ghent, their cook, and her husband, Ben, the stablemaster. It would have been impossible to replace them as quickly as the maids and footmen. Unfortunately, the new servants were as coarse and cruel as their master. Selena realized they were no better than spies who would watch her and her mother like hawks and report everything they did and saidto Percival. Selena and her mother took to having their private conversations in the water closet.
And now, just two weeks after Percival’s arrival, Selena’s mother had fallen ill. The pain was unbearably raw for Selena. Not only had everything changed, but her dear mother was sick.
“You must leave me,” her mother repeated hoarsely, snapping Selena from her reverie. “I cannot believe this man to be your father’s cousin. His plans for you are evil.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “My darling girl, you must go and save yourself.”
“Hush,Maman. The walls have ears.” But her mother was right. Only a few days after his arrival, her mother had patiently explained Selena’s betrothal to Viscount Gerald Lawrence. It was expected that they would wed sometime after Selena turned twenty-one.
“And is there something magical about the age of twenty-one?” Lord Percival Bowles had sneered.
“My husband and Gerald’s father were boyhood friends. Our families have been friends for years,” Lady Bowles had repeated. “Selena and Gerald have been betrothed most of their lives. It is hoped their wedding will be forthcoming.”
Percival had slammed his fist on the dining table, nearly toppling all the crystal and spilling the wine.
Selena had nearly jumped at his outburst. She looked at her mother who had calmly regarded Percival with the regal bearing of a queen. Her father had always said her mother had a spine of steel. Her mother’s family had heeded insights and fled to England just before the revolution started in France, establishing themselves in Sussex. Despite their many years in England, their loyalty was occasionally called into focus during the Napoleonic War, elevating the need for her mother’s strong spine.
“I’m the new lord here and I will decide Selena’s future.” Percival jabbed his fork into a chunk of roast venison and crammed it into his mouth, leering at Selena as he chewed, and drawing her from her reverie.
“Who is this upstart Viscount Gerald Lawrence? I’ve never heard of him,” he demanded.
“He is the son of the Earl of Bellecote one of the most esteemed families of the peerage,” Lady Fleur had replied in a serene tone. “My husband, the late viscount, wrote to your father about the betrothal, and he was happy to hear of it. I am surprised he did not mention it to his son.”
Selena had been proud of her mother, who did not flinch under Percival’s narrow-eyed glare.
“I will meet with my solicitor and have him notify the Bellecote family that the betrothal is off.” He gulped down the rest of his ale, slammed down the empty tankard, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ishall marry Selena. It would be best for the family, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?” He’d turned to Selena with a yellow-toothed smile, revealing several missing bottom teeth. “Unlike my predecessor, my seed is potent and will bear fruit.”
Both Selena and her mother had gasped at his crude insult. Selena had felt a schism of repulsion run through her.
