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“When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?”

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

A nnabel pressed her face against the mullioned windows facing the stable yard. She squinted to make out the figure riding up from the woods, frowning in confusion as she confirmed it was her betrothed, Richard Balfour. The Earl of Saunton had arrived early by at least an hour.

It was her rare use of this south-facing bedchamber that had allowed her to witness his early arrival. She had been exhibiting an uncharacteristic flash of vanity, twirling her new muslin day dress as she admired her reflection in the mirror. The embroidered gold flowers on the delicate ivory fabric suited her coloring and made her look softer … perhaps even pretty.

“You are no English rose, girl. I wonder if I will ever be able to marry you off.”

Annabel shook her head to clear her father’s vitriol from her thoughts. He was wrong. An actual earl wanted to marry her. Richard was her true love, and he saw her as pretty and captivating. He had stated as much when he had courted her before asking for her hand in marriage.

Chewing her lip, she tried to figure out what to do about her betrothed’s early arrival.

“You are a hoyden, girl. No gentleman wants to marry a girl who rides in breeches.”

Annabel again pushed back her father’s caustic remarks. Richard liked to race her, and he had asked her to marry him while they had been out riding on the estate in those buckskin breeches. When he had inherited his earldom a handful of years ago, he had met plenty of debutantes in London. As a handsome and wealthy member of the peerage, he could have any young lady he desired—and he wanted her. To be chosen by him was the fulfillment of her dreams from the best part of the past decade. She was just nineteen and had never even had a Season, but she was preparing to marry the man she loved in just two more months. She was a success despite the baron’s dire predictions.

Annabel glanced around the guest chamber at all the beautiful dresses of her trousseau. She would embark on her new life soon, managing the earl’s household the way she desired and working with Richard to provide a school to his tenants’ children. They would start a family. Her father, the baron, would be tolerated, but an insignificant part of her new life. Perhaps her brother might even visit and pay her mind as a married noblewoman. The future was so bright. Not every daughter of the aristocracy got to marry her one true love.

Annabel caught herself dallying and hurried downstairs to meet him.

* * *

Thirty minutes had passed and still Richard had not called at the front door. Perhaps he was conversing with the stable master. However, it was Gibbons’ afternoon off, so it was unlikely he would be in the stables when he could take advantage of such a fine day.

Annabel considered visiting the kitchens to forewarn the housekeeper that someone should bring tea as soon as Richard appeared. Then she would cut through the kitchen gardens and head to the stables to meet him. Her mind made up, Annabel set off to the servants’ staircase.

It was about fifteen minutes later when Annabel entered the dim interior of the stables, her nose tickled by the fresh scent of hay as she made her way down the stalls looking for Richard. She started when she heard a strange moaning, like a cat keening in pain.

Horses nickered in protest as she hurried forward to the end stall to see what was making the strange sound, her slippers soundless on the hard-packed ground. She peered into the stall and then … then her heart stopped in a painful spasm. Strange, the blood was rushing and pounding in her ears so loudly she was sure she would go deaf. How could one’s heart stop and blood pound at the same time, she wondered to herself in a daze. As if from a great distance, Annabel observed she had entered a state of mild shock and took a deep breath to compose herself.

Caroline from the kitchens and Richard were engaged in a passionate embrace, their mouths fused together as if they were one. It was highly inappropriate. Annabel did not believe it was suitable behavior for a man whose wedding was only weeks away.

Not suitable at all!

Something tore within Annabel’s chest. She suspected it was her innocence shattering as her heart broke into pieces and her very life shifted into a new course.

Caroline moaned in the back of her throat, and Annabel startled back into the moment. An eerie calm descended on her as a bitter numbness spread through her limbs, accompanied by a strange, frantic energy that made her breathing quick and shallow.

“I apologize for my interruption, but I have a couple of things to say.”

Everyone flinched in surprise, including Annabel herself. Richard and Caroline fumbled to right their crumpled clothing before turning to stare at her. Annabel realized she was the one who had spoken out loud. It would appear she was taking charge of the situation.

She looked to Caroline, who stared at her before bursting into loud sobs. Regretful tears streamed down her face. Annabel noted, with an odd sense of detachment, that it was not an attractive look as she continued to search for her own wits.

“I am so sorry, miss!” wailed the distraught maid.

Annabel drew a deep breath. “Caroline, I have known you since we were both young girls. You have been a member of our household for many years now. It is with great regret I must inform you that your services are no longer required.” The girl’s sobbing grew louder, a great noisy caterwauling that was rather unappealing.

You are in shock, Annabel. Your behavior is odd. Get this over with.

“Because of our long acquaintance, I would bid you to go see Mrs. Harris to request a character reference based on how you have executed your duties, the current circumstances notwithstanding. Inform her I would like her to assist you in finding a place in a new household as soon as possible. I will be along shortly to sign the reference. You are to depart Baydon Hall by the end of the week.”

Caroline stopped sobbing, her blonde curls hanging limp after the storm of tears. She looked at Annabel with astonishment. “You would give me a reference?”

“Consider it an act of kindness. I detest the necessity of this conversation, but neither will I see you destitute, despite your disloyalty and lack of moral compass. I suggest you act quickly before I change my mind.”

The maid made to leave, when Annabel realized she had a question.

“However, I do require something from you, Caroline.”

“Yes, miss?”

“How long have you and Lord Saunton been … meeting in the stables?” Richard made a choking sound as Caroline’s face reddened in shame.

“You mean meeting in the stables?” the maid clarified.

“Indeed. The emphasis is on meeting, not stables.”

The maid looked down, shamefaced, to stare at the toes of her shoes. “About mumble mumble .”

“What’s that?”

Caroline squirmed. “About two months.”

“Here in the stables?”

“See here? Is this really necessary?” interjected Richard.

Annabel turned to glare at him. He immediately relented, staring in abashed fascination at the hay scattered on the ground beneath his boots.

“Caroline, here in the stables?” she repeated.

The maid nodded, keeping her face averted to the floor. “Usually. I would come wait here for him on days he was to visit, and he would arrive early, with the woods at the back to cover his approach, so no one would know what time he arrived.”

Annabel’s fingers and toes felt icy with shock as she digested this information. “Hurry along. Lord Saunton and I have private matters to discuss.” She shooed the girl out, gesturing toward the stall door as she stepped aside.

The maid rushed out in apparent relief. Annabel did not blame her. She wished she could rush out and pretend she had not witnessed—nor heard—the past few minutes. Return in time and be back in the guest chamber trying on her trousseau—and this time fail to glance out the window. If she attempted to comprehend all the consequences of this moment, she felt it would tear her physically limb from limb. Her dreams for the future were lost. Her entire life changed in a matter of minutes.

Drawing a fortifying breath, Annabel turned to look at Richard. She was unsure what emotion she had expected to find on his face. Shame? Sheepishness? Tears would be nice. A fitting response to celebrate her loss of na?veté and the rending of their love. It was unexpected to find him scowling in defiance. He appeared to be blushing, at least.

“I believed a contemptuous father and an indifferent brother were the worst influences I had to contend with. Yet I discover a beloved’s face can disguise a more awful character than anything I could have conceived of before this day.”

“I never promised you love.”

Annabel considered for a moment and knew she could not deny it. “You are right. You said I was pretty—captivating, even. You said I was one of the most interesting people you had met. Our long acquaintance, coupled with the marriage proposal and sentiments you voiced, all misled me into believing you loved me.”

“I do love you, in a way. Just not the way you mean.”

“But it is the way that matters! To me!” With that, her calm shattered, and tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks.

“Annabel, this changes nothing. I care for you very much. I want to make you my wife, any way you see fit. As my countess, you will have more freedom than this tiny world your father forces you to live in. It will be good for you.”

“This changes everything! Our love? That was the most important part to me! I thought we would be partners, taking on life’s challenges together. That we would make each other strong. That you were strong. But you are a weak man driven by base desires. If I do not help that stupid, na?ve girl find a new place, what will happen to her?”

“She is a grown woman who made her own decisions.” Richard’s defiance had returned.

Annabel shook her head in disbelief. Just how many women had Richard been meeting since their betrothal had begun?

“I shall let the baron know to cancel our wedding. I could rail or scream, but I am not even sure where to begin. Good day, my lord.” She turned to leave.

“Annabel.” Richard grasped her arm. She looked back and found his expression belligerent, his stance stubborn. “I have no intention of allowing you to break the betrothal.”

“What!” Her composure was forgotten as her jaw dropped.

“I want to marry you. Your father will agree with me. The baron will not pass up the opportunity to be closely connected to an earl. It saddens me you saw what you did today, but the wedding will proceed. The matter is out of your hands.”

Annabel stared at him in wordless dismay. Tearing her arm out of his hand, she lifted her skirts and set off at a run to find her father.