Chapter One
A foreign scent teased Edwina’s senses, forcing her groggy mind back from the depths of oblivion. The air in her lungs was thick, cloying, yet somehow soothing. Though her head was heavy, her body had never felt lighter.
She flicked her eyes open and peered through the muted haze that blanketed her surroundings: a bedchamber lit by the thin beams of light that fell through gaps in the curtains.
Her fingers flexed against the soft surface on which she lay and a new sensation assailed her. Slippery silk or satin bedding.
The sluggish beat of her heart brought awareness back to her body. A shaky sigh of relief followed. She was still dressed in the gown she’d worn when she’d last left home and the bedsheets weren’t rumpled. This surely meant nothing untoward had occurred. Did it not?
But where was she and why was she so exhausted?
Get up, get up, get up.
It took a tremendous effort to push onto one of her forearms. Maybe she should rest a bit more before trying to leave?
A sudden pain speared her skull. The room started tilting and nausea followed as dizziness overwhelmed her.
No. She shook her head and fought the sensation of having to vomit. Her brother, Sebastian, would be wondering about her. She had to let him know she was well.
Struggling against the weak-limbed sensation encouraging her to collapse, she fought her way into a seated position.
Every breath was an arduous effort, yet she managed to swing one leg over the side of the bed.
With one hand pressed to the mattress, she supported her weight while her other hand went to the side of her head.
Blinking, she tried to focus her gaze but her eyes were impossibly tired. She closed them briefly and tried to think but her brain felt like it was filled with mud. Still, she endeavored to wade through it — to figure out what had occurred and how she had ended up here.
A handsome face flashed through her mind. The gentleman she’d met in the park. Yes, that was it. She’d gone for a walk. Alone, unchaperoned, because she’d needed the solitude she’d been accustomed to at Faintree Hall, prior to coming to London.
Sebastian’s home on Cavendish Square, while large, had been too constrictive these past few weeks. Ever since Keith Orwell’s murder. She’d tried to get past it, had accompanied her brother to other events since, yet the heaviness in her soul lingered.
Silly perhaps since she’d barely known Mr. Orwell. She’d made his acquaintance no more than a couple of hours before he was found dead.
But she had enjoyed the one dance they’d shared.
His company had lifted her spirits and made her appreciate coming to London.
It had helped ease the guilt she’d felt over leaving her sickly sister, Claire, behind at Faintree Hall.
Even though it was Claire who’d insisted Edwina enjoy a London Season.
Mr. Orwell’s brutal murdered had shattered the fairy-tale atmosphere she’d found at her first ball. Even though she’d not seen his lifeless body herself, her vivid imagination conjured a vision that wouldn’t cease plaguing her. For the most part, she felt either numb or ready to burst into tears.
Hence her desire to be alone so she could grapple with her emotions.
And then what? She fought her way through the fractured memories until additional details surfaced.
She’d been sitting on a bench in the park when he approached. The gentleman who’d inquired about her wellbeing.
An elegant calling card provided her with his name. Mr. Ashton Havilland.
“Have you no chaperone?” he’d asked after she had assured him she was all right.
For a second she’d thought of lying, then realized how ridiculous that would be when no one else was in sight. “Not at the moment.”
He’d huffed a breath and extended his arm. “In that case, please allow me the honor of seeing you safely returned to your home, lady…?”
“Edwina,” she’d supplied before adding, “I’m the Duke of Wrengate’s sister.”
“Truly?” A mixture of surprise and concern had filled Mr. Havilland’s gaze. “I know your brother well. He’ll no doubt murder me if anything happens to you and he learns I abandoned you here.”
“You’re probably right, but he might murder me for accepting help from a man to whom I have not been formally introduced.”
A boyish smirk had lifted the edge of Havilland’s lips. “Could we not pretend for a moment that we have been?” When Edwina failed to respond right away he’d retreated a step. “If luck is on my side, I’ll secure that introduction when next we meet. Hopefully tonight, at Lady Heathbrooke’s musicale.”
Edwina drew a ragged breath.
He’d turned away, she recalled, and had started sauntering off. She’d headed toward the park entrance a few moments later, which was when the street urchin attempted to steal her reticule.
Havilland had suddenly reappeared. He’d sent the scamp scurrying, then offered Edwina comfort.
His carriage was parked nearby and he’d once again offered to see her home, this time with greater insistence.
Shaken by the incident, she’d agreed. She’d even accepted the drink he’d claimed would help calm her nerves.
And then…
A blur, until she’d woken up here.
The door on the opposite side of the room beckoned, yet it seemed so horribly far away. Perhaps if she paused for a second and tried to gather her strength her legs might hold her. Yet even as the idea formed in some faraway part of her brain, the arm propping her up began giving way.
She groaned in frustration and dug her fingers into the mattress. Get up. Move. Her mind screamed for her to do so and yet she stayed, sitting on the edge of the bed while staring toward the blasted door.
Time vanished. Edwina blinked. The door swung open, and a fuzzy figure appeared. “Havilland?”
“I’m right here,” the familiar voice assured her, and then he was, his firm arm wrapping around her to hold her steady. “You collapsed in the carriage.”
“Yes, I…I drank from your flask and…” She squeezed her eyes shut as another flash of pain speared her skull.
“I’m so sorry,” Havilland murmured. “I never should have offered you such strong liquor, but you were so distressed and I really wanted to help.”
It felt like her thoughts kept sliding sideways. Why couldn’t she think straight? “Where am—”
A firm knock at the door preceded the masculine voice that spoke next, “May I come in?”
“Yes.” Havilland squeezed Edwina’s shoulder. “You’re going to feel a lot better soon, I promise.”
She shook her head while eyeing the older man who now stood nearby. “I just want to go home.”
“And so you shall,” Havilland assured her. “Your brother has been informed of your whereabouts and should be here shortly. In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy some fresh lemonade.”
A glass was pressed to Edwina’s lips.
Parched as she was, she sipped the cool liquid and savored the soothing effect. Bliss. Edwina’s eyelids slid shut. “Who’s….” She couldn’t think of the right word.
A sharp sound followed, then a mild, vinegar-scented smoke filled the air.
“You need to give her this now,” the other man said.
When Edwina opened her eyes next, Havilland was leaning toward her. Something wasn’t quite right.
Get up. Leave.
Her body refused to comply. Instead of rising, she fell back onto the bed with a gasp. Fear rushed through her.
“Here,” the other man said.
Havilland took something from him, then smiled down at Edwina. “Don’t worry. You’re going to love this.”
Despite his soothing tone, Edwina didn’t believe him, but she was too weak to fight him off and attempt to flee. So she watched, dread rising in her veins as he set a long pipe to his lips and inhaled.
The smell of vinegar scented smoke grew stronger.
Havilland dipped his head toward hers. Edwina tried turning sideways, but a hand caught her jaw and held her firmly in place. Strong fingers pinched her nose and then Havilland’s mouth was on hers.
She pressed her lips together, keeping them tightly sealed, until tears pricked her eyes and she had no choice. She gulped down a breath and inhaled the smoke Havilland held in his mouth.
The euphoria that followed swept all her worries away.