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Lord Quincy and Mr. Fitzpatrick, now called Andrew and Aiden in private, doted on Emmeline for the next two months, lavishing her with attention.

Even though her mother swore neither of them would offer for her and all her other potential suitors had bowed out, she allowed the courting.

With her mother as chaperone and her father home because of his declining health, one or the other, and sometimes both of them, took her to the theater, the opera, soirees, and private dinner parties.

There was also Almack’s on Wednesday evenings and ear-splitting musicales on occasion.

The more time she spent with them, the more her heart became entangled.

Even though she had the most wonderful time each night, she cried herself to sleep.

The thought of choosing one over the other made her heart break into tiny pieces.

She had no idea you could love two men simultaneously.

Why had no one warned her? When she spent time alone with Andrew, she was convinced he was the one for her.

She loved him and couldn’t live without him.

Then, the next day, she would take a stroll in the park with Aiden, and her heart would flutter for him, and she couldn’t see herself with anyone but him.

Something was seriously wrong with her. She hated herself for her indecisiveness.

The longer three people remained in this courtship, the more complex the decision would be for her, for she didn’t want to hurt either Andrew or Aiden.

Nor did she want to cause friction between them.

No matter that they joked about nothing tearing their friendship apart, she didn’t believe them.

When the time came for her to choose one or the other, she was sure the gentleman pushed aside would resent the other.

How could he not? Perhaps she should break off both courtships.

It would nearly kill her and eviscerate her heart to do so, but it would be the kind thing to do.

She never had the chance to call anything off, nor did she believe she would truly have been capable of doing so.

And three days later, sitting in the family drawing room, her mother consoled her over the turn of events.

“There, there,” her mother said as she hugged her daughter.

“All is well. You were fortunate enough to have two marriage proposals. And now you will marry Mr. Fitzpatrick. You love him, don’t you? ”

“Yes.” Emmeline sobbed into her mother’s bosom.

“I do love him. But... but... I love Andrew, too.” She hiccupped several times.

Her lungs ached from crying, and her heart had nearly ceased to exist. “I was going to choose him, in truth, but he withdrew his offer. I don’t understand.

He seemed so sincere in his offer of marriage.

And then today I receive his note with two sentences.

All it said was, ‘I regret my offer of marriage and need to rescind it. Please forgive me. Andrew.’” She breathed in her mother’s subtle flowery scent, trying to calm down.

“I love them both. How will I ever survive this?”

“Oh, my dear daughter,” her mother said with such patience Emmeline didn’t know where she found it.

“You will have a wonderful life with Aiden. You said so yourself, you love him. In time you will forget the love you had for Lord Quincy and wonder how you could ever have thought you loved anyone but Aiden. Now dry your tears. We have a guest arriving for dinner.”

Aiden was dining with them that evening, and she didn’t want to have puffy eyes, making him think she was unhappy with their betrothal. She loved Aiden. She did. She wanted to be his wife.

Until Andrew’s face flashed in her mind, and then she loved him.

All of this was too much for her. Never in her life had she expected to be heartbroken when she was engaged. She should be rejoicing.

*

After taking a nap, using cold compresses on her eyes and then cucumber slices, Emmeline looked refreshed enough to face Aiden at dinner.

Papa wasn’t feeling well, so besides them, it would only be Mother.

Mother sat at her usual end of the table, with Emmeline on one side of her and Aiden on the other.

Her eyes kept straying to him as she nibbled on one course after the other.

He looked relaxed, happy, and very handsome, dressed in navy blue with a cream linen shirt and cravat.

Every time their eyes connected, heat radiating from his creamy brown eyes had her insides aflutter.

They had never done more than kiss, but sitting opposite him now, her body reacted to his heated look.

When they retired to the drawing room after dinner, her mother gave them time alone with the door ajar.

“I thought we would never be alone,” Aiden said as he drew her close. One arm circled her waist, and the other cupped her cheek. “You are so beautiful. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together. I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” she asked, more than a little intrigued.

“I purchased a townhouse on Hyde Park Street for us. I can’t wait to show it to you.

I think you’re going to love it, and you can decorate it however you wish.

All I care about is living there as husband and wife.

And after we are married I’m going to spend time each week preparing to oversee Fitzpatrick Industries.

Although I can’t imagine my father ever giving up the reins completely to me. ”

“What about finishing university?”

“There is no need. My future is set. My family is wealthy and respected among the ton , even if my father runs a company. We shall never want for anything.”

“I understand, but I thought . . .”

“Don’t think,” he whispered right before he kissed her with all the desire she’d witnessed in his eyes during dinner, causing them both to gasp and breathe heavily.

His hands roamed her body up the sides of her waist until his thumbs caressed the outside of her breasts, and she moaned into his mouth as the sensations made her dizzy.

He broke the kiss and placed barely-there kisses down her neck and across the tops of her breasts.

“I can’t wait until our wedding night.” More kisses.

“Until I can make love to you properly.” He took her mouth, devouring her as one hand cupped her behind, pulling her tight to him.

She gasped at the hard bulge in his breeches.

Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding into him, shocking her with her wanton behavior even if she didn’t know what she sought.

Her insides coiled up tight, and she felt the wetness between her thighs and a pleasant tingling sensation there as well.

She may not understand what she needed, but her body did.

“Easy there, my love,” he murmured. “I’m almost at my limit.”

Moving them to the corner of the room behind the slightly ajar door, Aiden leaned her against the wall.

With his intense eyes on her, she couldn’t look away as he lifted the front of her skirts, his hand finding the opening in her pantaloons, and he touched her.

A gasp escaped her lips, and he covered her mouth with his, silencing her.

His fingers opened her folds and touched her most sensitive spot.

She would have collapsed to the floor if Aiden had not tightened his grip on her with his free hand.

“Easy, my love. Just close your eyes and let your body relax. Enjoy my touch.”

And so she did, and moments later, she clutched his shoulders; her body trembled and exploded, sending her into some euphoria she didn’t know existed. When her body calmed, and Aiden righted her skirts, he grinned at her and said, “I love you.”

“I love you.” And at that moment, she loved him with all her heart and would forever.

*

It was Aiden’s and Emmeline’s wedding day.

Andrew’s insides were tied up in knots because he didn’t know if he could make it through the ceremony and wedding breakfast afterward.

He’d already emptied the contents of his stomach into the chamber pot.

It was better to be sick now than during the ceremony.

He owed it to one of his closest friends to attend.

If he didn’t, gossip would spread, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

He wanted their marriage to be perfect and not tainted with the whispers of another man.

Even if it had been true once, it would never be true again.

He had come to terms with the fact that he’d lost Emmeline four weeks ago when the first banns were posted. Liar.

His valet, Clayton, cleared his throat. “My lord, you must leave now. Mr. Weston and Mr. Caldwell are waiting in the carriage.”

“Yes.” Functioning in a fog, Andrew exited his parents’ townhouse and climbed inside Weston’s carriage, facing backward beside Caldwell. He hoped neither of them would ask how he was.

But, of course, no such luck.

“Are you going to make it through the ceremony?” Weston asked, concern etched on his face.

Taking a deep breath and noticing, yes, his heart still hurt like a bloody bugger, he replied, “Shit, I hope so.”

Weston added, “For what it’s worth, you did the right thing. Aiden loves her.”

What about me? I love her. “I know.” When he woke up every morning alone from this day forth, he would tell himself that he had done the right thing for the rest of his life because his love for her would never die.

He would have vowed never to marry if he hadn’t had to do his duty to the dukedom someday and produce an heir.

But with twin older sisters and then him, and no younger brothers to inherit, he had to do his duty and marry.

.. eventually. He already pitied the woman he took for a wife.

She deserved so much better than him—a man with a jaded, broken heart.

“We are here,” Caldwell said as the coach stopped. The driver opened the door and flipped down the stairs.

Andrew exited the coach and stared up at St. George’s, Hanover Square, knowing right then and there that he would never step foot in that church again as long as he lived. He would join St. James’s Church the first chance he had.

If his heart hadn’t shriveled and died weeks ago, he would have thought it was a beautiful ceremony.

The bride took his breath away. The groom looked happier than Andrew had ever seen him.

Meanwhile, his throat burned from unshed tears he fought to keep from escaping.

He would not cause anything to ruin this perfect day for the bride and groom, even if he wanted to bellow out the words for all to hear, “Emmeline is mine. I love her. She belongs with me.” Instead, he pretended to be calm and happy for the loving couple.

Once the church ceremony ended, they proceeded to the Connolly residence for the wedding breakfast. Andrew found his place card at the opposite end of the table from the new Mr. and Mrs. Aiden Fitzpatrick.

Thank Christ, he thought, as he toyed with the food on his plate as the courses came and went.

He knew he would cast up his accounts right there in front of everyone if he ate anything.

He didn’t care about embarrassing himself, but he wouldn’t do that to Aiden and Emmeline.

Even if his jealousy was making him crazy, there was enough of the gentleman in him to keep from causing a scene.

At least he kept telling himself that. He loved them both too much to spoil their happiness even as he sank to the lowest depths of despair imaginable.

Never to be whole ever again as long as he lived.

The only thing that soothed him was the unending wine poured by the footmen.

He was drunk when the happy couple left.

Thank bloody hell the torturous wedding breakfast was over, and he could go home and break out the whisky and get foxed, really foxed.

Because, as much as he tried not to picture Aiden making love to Emmeline and taking her innocence, he couldn’t.

It was all he could see in his mind. He needed to drink himself to oblivion.

It would be the only thing saving him from his tormented visions.

Back inside Weston’s carriage, Andrew collapsed against the squabs, sloshing wine onto his clothes as he’d taken his glass with him, and said, “To Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick. May Aiden fuck her well and good.”

He overlooked his friends’ winces as he dropped his glass and succumbed to his drunken stupor, his life never to be the same.