you in any way. My life here is a quiet one and scandal cannot touch it.
I will not stand in the way of your future. I trust that, in honour of what we once had, you will not stand in the way of mine.
Sincerely,
Jane.
Hayden was stunned. A divorce? Jane wrote him after all this time to say he should seek a divorce? He crumpled the letter in his fist and tossed it into the empty grate. A raw, burning fury swept through him, an anger he didn’t understand. What had he expected would happen with Jane? Had he just thought they would go along in their strange twilight world for ever, married but not married?
The truth was he had avoided thinking about it at all. Now he saw he must. Jane was quite right. Even though he avoided considering his responsibilities as much as possible, he needed an heir. When Jane lost the babies, that hope was gone as well as their marriage. It was like his poor mother all over again, only Jane had luckily been spared the fate of dying trying to give her husband a spare to go with his heir. Jane was saved—because she wisely left. Yes, she was right about it all.
But something else was there, something she did not say in that polite, carefully worded little letter. He wasn’t sure what it was, what was really going on with her, but he was sure there was more to this sudden plea for a divorce.
My life here is a quiet one and scandal cannot affect it.
How quiet was her life at Barton Park? He had heard nothing of how she really lived in the years since they had parted. No one ever saw her and, after the initial ripple of gossip over their separation, no one spoke of her. They treated him as if he was a single man again, as if Jane had never been. Now he wondered what she did. Why she wanted to be away from him in such a permanent way.
Suddenly he knew he had to see her again. He had to know what was really going on. She had left him, left their life together without a backward glance. He wouldn’t let things be easy for her any longer.
No matter what Jane thought, she was still his wife. It was time she remembered that. Time they both remembered that.
Hayden strode to the door and pulled it open. ‘Makepeace!’ he shouted.
‘My lord?’ came the faint reply up the stairs. Makepeace always disapproved of Hayden’s strange habit of shouting out of doors.
‘Call for my horse to be saddled. I am leaving for the country today.’
Chapter Two
‘Who is that?’
Hayden’s best friend, Lord John Eastwood, looked around at Hayden’s sudden question. It had been a long, dull day, hanging about at the royal Drawing Room, watching all that Season’s crop of fresh young misses make their curtsies to the queen. John’s sister, Susan, was one those misses and he had been recruited to help her. Hayden in return was recruited to help John survive the deadly dullness of it all.
Only for John would Hayden brave such a place and only after a stiff gulp of port. They had been friends ever since they were awkward schoolboys, drawn together by a shared humour and love of parties. John’s family took Hayden in on holidays when his own family was too busy for him.
But even for the Eastwoods he was regretting venturing in there, to the over-gilded overheated room stuffed with girls in awkwardly hooped satin-and-lace gowns and towering plumes—and their sharp-eyed, avidly husband-hunting mamas.
A new young earl like Hayden was just a sitting duck, or a fox flushed out of hiding. He wanted to run.
Until he saw her.
She stood amid the gaggle of white-clad girls, overdressed just like them, with the tall headdress of white feathers in her dark hair threatening to overwhelm her slender figure. She was silent, carefully watching everything around her, but she drew his attention like the sudden flicker of a candle in the darkness.
She wasn’t beautiful, not like so many of the pretty blonde shepherdess types clustered around her. She was too slim, too pale, with brown hair and a pointed chin, like a forest fairy. Yet she wore her ridiculous gown with an air of quiet, stylish dignity and her pink lips were curved in a little smile as if she had a secret joke no one else in the crowd could know.
And Hayden really, really wanted her to tell him what it was. What made her smile like that. No one had caught his attention so suddenly, so completely, in—well, ever. He had to find out who she was.
‘Who is that?’ Hayden asked again, and it seemed something in the urgency of his tone caught John’s attention. John stopped grinning at his current flirtation, a certain Lady Eleanor Saunders, and turned to Hayden.
‘Who is who?’ John asked.
‘That girl over there, in the white with the silver lace,’ Hayden said impatiently.
‘There are approximately fifty girls in white over there.’
‘It’s that one, of course.’ Hayden turned to gesture to her, only to find that now she watched him. Her smile was gone and she looked a bit startled.
Her eyes were the strangest colour of golden-green, and they seemed to draw him in to her, closer and closer.
‘The little brunette who is looking this way,’ he said quietly, as if he feared to scare her away if he spoke too loudly. She had such a quiet, watchful delicacy to her.
‘Oh, her. She is Miss Jane Bancroft, the niece of Lady Kenton.’
‘You know her?’ How could John know her and he could not?
‘She had tea with Susan last week. It seems they met in the park and rather liked each other.’ John gave Hayden a sharp glance of sudden interest. ‘Why? Would you like to meet her?’
‘Yes,’ Hayden said simply. He couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t stop trying to decipher what was so immediately and deeply alluring about her.
‘She’s not your usual sort, is she?’ John said.
‘My usual sort?’
‘You know. Dashing, colourful. Like Lady Marlbury. You’ve never looked twice at a deb before.’
Hayden couldn’t even remember who Lady Marlbury was at the moment, even though she had been his sometimes-mistress for a few weeks. Not when Miss Bancroft smiled at him, then looked shyly away, her cheeks turning pink.
‘Just introduce me,’ he said.
‘If you like,’ John said. ‘Just be careful, my friend. Girls like her can be lethal to men like you and you know it.’
Hayden couldn’t answer that. When was he ever careful? He wasn’t about to start now, not when feelings were roiling through him he had never felt before. He set off across the crowded room, leaving John to scramble after him.
And
