Page 1 of Never a Bride
Prologue
London, September 1588
At the top of the marble stairs, tall, windowed doors swung open, and the queen’s courtiers within the great hall turned to stare, knowing that the moment they’d all waited for had arrived. A petite woman stepped into the hall, flanked by two men, identical in every way, from their black hair to their swarthy skin to their midnight eyes.
Even the orchestra faltered as whispers spread out in a hiss. One of the brothers was Viscount Thornton, newly returned from spying on their enemy, Spain, before the armada had sailed. His heroism had been lauded by Queen Elizabeth, and his bravery had won him the hand of his wife, Lady Roselyn. The crowd surged forward to ingratiate themselves with the new hero; then the tide seemed to flow backward as they all hesitated.
Which one was Lord Thornton—and which was his scandalous brother?
No one wanted to congratulate Sir Alexander, who’d spent almost a year and half deceiving society when he posed as his brother, spending money that wasn’t his, misleading noble maidens with the lure of marrying a viscount. His scandals had shaken London to its core, and were clear proof of who deserved the viscountcy.
Just when the confused murmurs rose like bees buzzing to protect their hive, one of the brothers stepped aside and bowed to the couple left standing on the last stair above the crowd. Concluding the obvious, the courtiers swarmed forward, swallowing up the viscount and his wife.
~oOo~
Alex Thornton was glad for the escape, even though his brother shot him a frown over the heads of his adoring audience. Alex winked and turned away, grabbed the first tankard of ale that floated by on a servant’s tray, and drained it quickly.
He hadn’t even begun to get drunk when he saw Lord Manvil, who’d been working with him on a bill for the House of Lords.
Alex pushed his way through the crowd, then called, “Manvil! Might I have a moment of your time?”
The man turned from his wife and smiled beneath his huge mustache. “Lord Thornton, welcome back!”
Alex gave a lopsided grin. “You’re actually speaking with the knight instead of the viscount. I was wondering if you had some time to discuss that bill we’ve been—”
Manvil held up a hand. “This is highly improper, Sir Alexander. Such private business among the Lords can no longer be your concern.”
Alex widened his eyes, trying not to let this newest slight affect his temper. “But I’m the one who wrote the bill.”
“Nevertheless—ah, it is Lord Thornton himself.”
Alex turned to find his brother standing behind him, obviously having overheard the humiliating encounter with Lord Manvil. To make matters worse, Spencer was trying to hide his worry and pity.
Alex grinned. “There you go, Manvil, just the man you needed. I’m sure you can bring Spence up on all the details.”
“Alex, don’t leave us,” his brother said. “You’ve hardly had a chance to familiarize me with all your work. Lord Manvil, I’m sure you see the necessity of—”
“Nonsense,” Alex interrupted, backing away. “Manvil can explain the whole thing. I’m done with all this, remember? And ’tis about time, too.” He grabbed another tankard of ale and leered at the maidservant carrying it.
Then he went off to find the first of many maidens he would woo away from their outraged mothers for a dance. By midnight, he had propositioned two married women, one of whom had slapped his face, and the other—well, he’d find out her thoughts on his behavior later that night in her bedchamber. It was good to be himself again.
Scandal was what he did best, after all.
Chapter 1
London, April 1589
Alex Thornton was fresh out of new scandals. Standing beside his friend Edmund Blackwell, he sighed as he watched the hall full of glittering couples dancing merrily beneath vaulted ceilings.
It had been eight months since he’d given his twin brother Spencer’s identity back to him. Eight months of constantly explaining to disappointed people that he’d onlyposedas the viscount.
Alex had vowed to enjoy his own life again, without the responsibilities of a noble title. He would do as he pleased, drink, gamble himself into oblivion, and find willing young women to enjoy it all with him.
Sad to say, those pleasures had grown almost…tiresome of late. Each party blurred into the next. He needed a change, something new to interest him.
“Edmund, are you as bored as I?”
Edmund shrugged, and his gaze surveyed the crowd. “I doubt it.”
