Three Chances to Cherish (Blackwood Legacy #3)

Prologue

Three months earlier

Standing a few feet away from the closed door, Evie was gripped with desire and uncertainty.

She sensed James on the other side, moving around in his adjoining suite.

He hadn’t yet left for the evening—a rare opportunity, if she had the courage to seize it.

With his political star on the rise, her husband was invited to countless affairs.

At first, he had requested that she accompany him…

but she’d made excuses often enough that he’d likely grown tired of asking.

Or perhaps he has grown tired of me.

She swallowed against the pain and fluttering panic.

The truth was she had no one to blame but herself.

She hadn’t been good enough for him when he married her, and the events of the past year had shown that she would never be.

She was cursed. She could never outrun her past. It would poison everything—everyone she allowed to come too close.

Trembling, she retreated a few steps. From this angle, she saw flickering movements under the door.

James was getting ready to leave, and Robson, his valet, was putting the final touches on his perfection.

She still had a chance to ask if she could join him this eve.

She was in full evening attire and had asked her maid to take special care with her appearance.

While she was no match for her husband’s elegance, she would pass muster.

If she was brave enough to make the first move…

to break the wall of silence. Even though she shouldn’t, she yearned to mend things—to have whatever intimacy she could with him.

She took halting steps to the door. Raised her hand to knock.

Robson’s voice filtered through the barrier. “I do believe the diamond stick pin is the correct addition, my lord. It was admired the last time you wore it.”

Admired? Who admired James’s cravat pin? Who was close enough—bold enough—to remark upon so personal an item?

Evie clenched her raised hand inches from the door, her breaths quick and hot.

“Was it?” Her husband’s deep voice came through. “Very well, leave it. It is getting late, and this particular hostess believes in punctuality.”

Who was hosting James? Was this a public affair…or a private one?

She had no right to care—not after everything she’d done. But she did care. With every fiber of her being.

“Shall I leave word regarding your return, my lord?” Robson inquired.

A heartbeat passed. Then Evie heard James’s distinctive footsteps approaching their shared door.

Her pulse racing, she stumbled into a nearby corner, taking refuge amongst the leaves of the aspidistra.

From the shadows, she saw the moving light under the door and knew that James was standing there on the other side.

Will he come in? Invite me to join him? What should I do?

“No.” James’s voice was curt. “There is no need to disturb the countess.”

Evie listened to his departing footsteps, wetness sliding down her cheeks.