Chapter One
Sixteen years later…
May 1896
Serenity Pratt was halfway up the grand staircase of the Earl of Winters’ London townhouse, her arms filled with freshly washed linens when someone pounded heavily on the front door. She froze, then reluctantly set her burden down on the stairs and headed to answer it.
As an upstairs maid, answering the door was not part of her duties. However, Lord Winters had left in a flurry late last night, turning the house upside down packing for a lengthy, unexpected trip. The butler had been up till almost dawn, and Serenity knew the elderly gentleman was still abed since it was only half past eight.
She reached the front door and squared her shoulders, dreading the thought of who might be on the other side. The earl had a wide variety of less-than-savory friends. Taking a deep breath, she flung the door open—only to be confronted with a ghost from her past.
She put a hand to her mouth and stumbled back a few steps, the urge to flee warring with the need to throw herself into the arms of the man who stood in the doorway.
Lucien Strathmore had been her first love, her only love, but it had been nearly eight years since she’d last seen him. He’d been little more than a boy then, twenty-three and just back from the University, ready to take up the reins of his own estate. They’d had a whirlwind summer of stolen kisses and walks along the river, but it had ended quite badly. For her, at least.
He was a man now, still breathtakingly handsome, with his dark gypsy looks and startling blue eyes, but the carefree youth was gone, replaced by a world-weary exhaustion that broke what was left of her heart.
He gave her an impatient look, obviously annoyed by the fact that she was simply staring at him in shocked silence. His crystal blue eyes stared right through her, paying no attention to the hired help. He either didn’t recognize her or the most meaningful time in her life had meant so little to him that he chose to not even acknowledge her.
“I’m the Earl of Hawkesmere,” he said at last. “Winters is my stepbrother. I understand that he left last night and took my little sister, Lady Allison, with him. I need to know everything you can tell me about exactly when he left and where he was going. Assemble the staff, girl. Quickly! Time is of the utmost importance. I must find her before he takes her out of the country. She may be in danger.”
“Come in, Luke,” she murmured, ushering him inside, so stunned by his words that she forgot all propriety.
He froze in the process of shutting the door, then turned slowly, finally seeing her, and not just a nameless, faceless servant. With a soft, disbelieving sound, he lifted his hand and removed the mob cap that completely covered her pale hair, then trailed his fingertips across her cheek, his eyes widening in shock and… pleasure?
“Serenity?” he breathed. “Is it really you?”
She bit her lip, blinking away unwanted tears. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but in her fantasies, she was strong and brave, telling him what she thought of his abandonment in no uncertain terms before squaring her shoulders and storming away. She’d never expected that all her tender emotions would return with the force of a tsunami, rooting her in place and stealing her angry words.
How could she still love him? He’d absolutely destroyed her!
“It’s been a long time,” she said at last. “You look well, Luke. Er… Lord Hawkesmere.”
He made a quick, dismissive gesture at the formality, then shook his head, obviously still in shock. “That’s all you have to say? You ran away from me what… eight years ago? Left without a word, broke my fucking heart, and you’ve been here, less than a mile away, working for Roger, all that time?” Unmistakable pain and anguish filled his voice, which grew louder with each word.
Confusion filled her. He wasn’t making any sense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! You sent me away,” she cried, her own voice escalating. “You broke me, Luke!”
Gripping her shoulders, he backed her up and pressed her against the nearest wall, crowding her with his body, staring into her eyes as though he could somehow read her mind. His breath came fast and hard, as though he’d run a great distance, and she knew her own heartbeat pounded in time to his. His scent, sandalwood, and leather, filled her senses. She stiffened, outraged by the way he was manhandling her, afraid of the storm of emotions crashing over him.
Suddenly, he gentled, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks with a tenderness that took her breath away. “I looked for you… God, I looked for you everywhere. And you’ve been here all along? Right under my nose?”
She didn’t know what was going on, but the look of longing and desire on his handsome face was one she’d dreamed of seeing for so long…
“I missed you,” she whispered, losing her inner battle to remain strong. “When I close my eyes at night, I still dream of you, of that summer we spent together.”
He held her gaze for a second longer, obviously seeing the truth there, and then he slanted his mouth over hers. The second their lips touched, the passion that had always been between them reignited, an explosion of fire and emotion.
Lucien devoured her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, stealing her breath and all thought. The years fell away, and they were once again young and in love, with their whole futures ahead of them. She groaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around him.
The sound of a throat clearing behind them sent an icy rush of reality through her, giving her the strength to pull away.
Mrs. Rockwell, the head housekeeper, stood a dozen steps away, her thin nose vibrating with outrage. “Miss Pratt! Move away from the gentleman immediately. Go to the kitchen. I’ll deal with you shortly.”
Cold fear washed through Serenity as she leaped to do Mrs. Rockwell’s bidding. What she’d done was a firing offense, and the housekeeper had never liked her much anyway. She’d only taken a few steps when Lucien reached out and grabbed her arm, his elegant fingers closing around her wrist in a vice-like grip.
“No!” he said, his voice snapping with anger. “She stays. Here. With me.”
Serenity looked up at him, stunned and confused, but his gaze narrowed on the housekeeper. “I need to know where Winters went and how long ago he left.”
His imperious tone made Mrs. Rockwell swallow and nod nervously. “The earl said he and Lady Allison were going to Dover, then on to Calais.”
“Did Lady Allison seem willing to go with him?” Lucien demanded.
Serenity wondered what this was all about. Lady Allison was Luke’s half-sister, from his mother and Winters’ father, conceived when Luke was thirteen or fourteen years old. Since she was also Winters’ half-sister, Luke’s panic didn’t seem appropriate. Much as Serenity disliked Winters, she didn’t think he’d ever hurt the girl.
Mrs. Rockwell slowly shook her head. “The young lady was sleeping when they left, my lord. He carried her out to the coach himself.”
Lucien cursed softly beneath his breath. Then he turned to Serenity. “You’re coming with me.”
Serenity shook her head. “What? Absolutely not! I have a place here. You’ll get me fired.”
“You’re already fired, Miss Pratt,” Mrs. Rockwell snapped, regaining her dignity. “You may gather your things.”
“Ma’am,” Serenity cried, aghast. “I don’t have any place else to go.” She’d been in service here for seven years; she had no family; she had nothing but this place, however much she might hate it.
Lucien swung her around to face him, his eyes intense. “I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know how you ended up here, and I don’t have time to figure it out right now. What I do know is that I lost you once, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until we have a chance to talk. You’re coming with me, and we’ll work everything else out later.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she cried, pulling out of his grasp. “You gave up that right a long time ago.”
“No,” he said, his voice laden with frustration. “I didn’t give you up! That’s what I’m trying to say. I didn’t… I would never have given you up willingly!”
They stared at each for another long moment, and a thousand thoughts raced through her head. She didn’t know how what he was saying could be true, but how could she walk away from him without at least listening to his side of the story? She’d just been fired, for pity’s sake; it wasn’t like she had many options.
“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll go with you.”
* * *
After pressing Roger’s housekeeper until she told him everything she knew, Lucien waited impatiently for Serenity to gather her things. He’d wanted to go with her, just to ensure she didn’t disappear again but had somehow restrained himself. When she returned, with a pitifully small bag that obviously held all her worldly belongings, he breathed a sigh of relief and once again took her hand, needing this physical connection to reassure himself he hadn’t imagined her.
Once outside, he assisted her up into his coach, his pulse still hammering in his veins at her nearness. He swung up after her, seating himself across from her in the vehicle’s plush interior, relaxing back in the padded seat as he eyed her from head to toe.
The girlish softness he’d once known had given way to the lovely, sculpted features of a woman. Her green eyes were large and rimmed with dark golden lashes, her nose small and her mouth full and still a little swollen from his kisses. Her blond hair, still coiled tightly on her head, was the pale, silky color of moonbeams. He’d always thought her brave, but he sensed she’d hardened at her core.
The coach jolted forward, and she gripped the side with her hands, her knuckles turning white under the strain. Her poor delicate hands, which were chapped and rough from hard work. He hated to see that, would have given his entire fortune to have spared her the life she’d lived.
The old Serenity would have thrown her arms around him and sobbed with happiness at the fact that they’d found each other again, but this woman, of the chapped hands and damaged heart, wouldn’t even look at him.
“I don’t know what you mean by this,” she said at last when the silence between them became unbearable. “I don’t know why I agreed to come with you.”
“Because you want the truth as badly as I do,” he said quietly. “If I didn’t send you away, and you didn’t leave me, then what the hell happened?”
She stared at him, her pale cheeks flushing with hectic color. Was that anger or grief? “Your mother told me that you didn’t want me anymore. She said you’d arranged a place for me with the earl, and I should be thankful for it.”
His breath caught, and the truth suddenly became all too clear to him. “My mother sent you away?” The ice in his voice frightened even him.
She nodded abruptly, and the pain in her expressive green eyes cut into the heart of him.
He wanted to hit something, destroy the world, scream at the top of his lungs for all the time lost. He’d loved this woman, loved her so deeply and passionately it had fairly killed him when she’d disappeared with no word. And now, all these years later, to find out that it had been his mother who had come between them, his mother who had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him?
He should have known. The countess had been the cause of so much pain and misery in her sons’ lives. Of course, she wouldn’t have wanted him to be happy.
“I’m sorry,” he managed. “I had no idea. Surely, you realize that I would never have agreed to that if I’d known? Serenity… didn’t you know how much you meant to me?”
She merely shrugged, dropping her gaze. “Does it matter? So much time has passed now… It is good to see you, Lord Hawkesmere, but this doesn’t change anything.”
“Doesn’t it?” he asked incredulously. “Was I that easy for you to forget?”
“I knew there was no room for me in your life,” she said, changing the subject. “Perhaps what your mother did was actually a blessing for both of us. You would have asked me to be your mistress, and then you would have married someone else. That would have destroyed me, to watch you build a life with someone, have children with her, so I’m glad things ended with a minimum of fuss.”
A minimum of fuss? He thought of those dark days, when he’d thought her kidnapped or dead, the months spent searching, the slow acceptance that he was never going to find her. The grief… He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the words she was saying. How was it possible that she hadn’t known how much he cared? That she’d thought he’d dishonor her by asking her to be his mistress? All these years, and he’d never given his heart to anyone else because she still owned it completely.
“Why are you in such a panic to find Lady Allison?” she asked, once again trying to change the subject. “Winters frequently hosts her in his home.”
He bit down his frustration, wanting to force her to speak about their past, but reluctantly realizing that her stubbornness had not changed. If anything, it seemed to have gotten worse. Perhaps she just needed a little time to accept that things were not as she’d thought them to be. That he’d never have hurt her purposely.
Running a hand through his hair, he made himself tear his gaze away from her, staring out the window instead. The events of the past two days crashed over him, and he found himself very grateful to have regained his confidante. It had been very difficult to be the one to stay strong, keeping his family from falling apart, and he badly needed to talk about the hell Roger had put them all through.
“You remember I told you about Prometheus?” he said at last. He and his younger brothers, the twins, Morgan and Adrian, had invented a masked vigilante when they were children, to deal with their stepfather and Roger’s abuse. He’d long ago told Serenity some of the events that had led up to that; she’d been the only one he’d ever trusted with that information.
“Of course,” she said softly. “When the newspapers started reporting about Prometheus, how he destroyed brothels and rescued the unfortunate children pressed into service there, I wondered if it was you.”
“Not me,” he said, shaking his head. “Adrian was the one who dusted off that cursed mask. My stepfather and Roger tormented him the worst. Morgan and I were away at school…. In any event, he’s been targeting Roger’s businesses for some time now. I should have put a stop to it, but he was doing so much good, and he needed something in his life. He’s been so alone.”
“I think he’s a hero,” she said, her voice ringing with sincerity.
“So do I,” he agreed. “But recently Adrian met a rather wonderful woman named Vanessa. He married her, and Roger saw that as a weakness he could exploit. He hired some thugs to kidnap her, and the fools took Morgan’s wife, Anne, as well.”
He swallowed thickly, fighting a rush of anger and sadness. “They took the two women to a warehouse on the riverfront. They pushed Anne down the stairs, and she was more than eight months pregnant…” He closed his eyes, unable to continue.
“Oh, my god,” Serenity murmured, suddenly switching to his side of the coach, settling beside him and taking his hand. “What happened?”
The scent of lavender washed over him, shaking him to the core, reminding him of the first time they’d met, in the ruins of Hawkesmere House as children, when she’d offered him such comfort. “Vanessa somehow managed to deliver the baby, and she and the child are going to be all right. Adrian rescued them,” he said in a choked voice, inundated with the memory of Anne’s blood and Morgan’s grief. “Anne didn’t make it though. After the baby was born, Vanessa couldn’t stop Anne’s bleeding. Roger got away,” he finished darkly.
“And he took Lady Allison with him,” she said in dawning understanding. “He dotes upon the girl. You don’t think he’d really hurt her, do you?”
He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the letter his mother had brought him first thing this morning. He watched as she read the words already seared into his brain.
Stepmama,
Allison and I will be taking a little journey. Your sons have pushed me too far this time. It will be quite a while before I’m able to bring her home but don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe. Tell them that if they come after me, however, she might meet the same fate as Anne.
Roger
Serenity bit her lip and handed the letter back. “I’m so sorry, Luke. And then you arrived at Winters’ house, only to find me…”
He met her worried green gaze, seeing the honest care and concern there. No matter what happened in his life, he always had to be the one who stayed strong, who did what needed to be done, but Serenity had always given him permission to feel things. To be human. He couldn’t resist pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair, allowing himself to be weak for just a moment.
He’d wanted nothing more than to closet himself in his room last night and grieve for his beautiful sister-in-law, but instead, he’d summoned the authorities and dealt with the questions and Anne’s body. Then he’d taken the baby girl his brother couldn’t even bear to look at to Fiona, the young woman who ran the orphanage Adrian funded. Fiona had access to a wet nurse and would see the baby was taken care of until Morgan was ready. Lastly, he’d taken Morgan home, worrying about his little brother’s icy calm and anger. He’d gone home and fallen into bed near dawn, only to be awakened two hours later by his hysterical mother. Now he was haring off across the country to find his fifteen-year-old sister, fearing the worst.
But Serenity was back in his arms, after all this time. And with her at his side, he knew he could handle anything.