Page 1 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
Prologue
Studborne Abbey
January, 1882
Barely an hourafter his son entered the world, the Duke of Studborne held him in his arms for the first and last time.
“Algernon.” The duchess tried to raise her head, looking to the figure silhouetted by the firelight.
Her voice was but a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I thought…this time…”
Studborne placed the still, silent child in the cradle at the foot of the bed. The ache in his chest squeezed tight, as if to crush his own mortal being. Rage and grief pounded there; monsters he’d fought before, and would again, when he was alone.
For now, he must have fortitude.
“Our son is at peace, my love.” He came to sit beside her, lacing his fingers through hers.
It was their joke that she was always cold, pressing to him in the night for the comfort of his warmth. But, her small hand had never before been so chill, nor her face so pale.
Still bleeding, the doctor had told him, and her pulse weak and fluttering.
Studborne made himself speak. “The boy is with his sister and brother; three angels together.”
“My darling, how shall we bear it?” Lit by the quivering flame of the candle, her eyes were fathomless. “I so wanted…but I’ve failed you…”
“You are perfect, my love. So perfect. Everything I dreamed of. From the day we first met to this moment.” He spoke feverishly, smoothing back her golden hair. “I would change nothing.”
The words were true.
She’d been but twenty when he’d made her his duchess and he more than twice her age. He’d never before felt such love. Only for her.
There had never been another.
There never would be.
“I’ll be waiting for you, my darling.” Her breaths—mingled with tears—were each fainter than the last, each a labour for which she had no more might. “The babies and I. Waiting for you.”
He brought his lips to her forehead, then kissed her upon the mouth.
I’ve life enough for us both. Stay with me, my little Viola. I won’t let you go. Not yet. ’Tis not your time.
But the soft lips beneath his gave no returning caress.
No breath stirred.
Her cheek fell to the pillow.
Violetta’s heart, always so filled with devotion, had slowed to its last beat.
Roaring his pain, the duke buried his face upon her neck and clutched her to him.
It cannot be. I shan’t let it be so.
The children God may take, if it’s his will, but not my love!
Rocking her, he made his silent vow.
We shall meet again, my duchess, my Violetta.
