“I raced here as soon as I learned your identity. My family is close to follow, at which point my father will order you gone.”

Oh, God. She drew in a jagged painful breath. “What about what Lucas...?” His eyes narrowed at that familiar address. “Captain Rayne,” she swiftly amended, “…wants?”

“Tell me,” he asked with a casualness that set her teeth on edge. “Do you truly believe my brother will want you here when he discovers who you are?”

“Yes.” The answer sprang immediately to her lips. A man who could see past her connection to the traitor who’d landed him in a French prison, was a man who could forgive her birthright.

Mr. Rayne tightened his mouth. “Very well. My father, however, will not. His love for the legend and power of that sword,” he motioned to the weapon at her back, “runs deep and true. And your insisting Lucas choose you over his own sire, proves the selfishness in your soul.” He sneered at her with that same derision that had stripped her of so much pride through the years. “Then, sacrificing my family’s peace for your own well-being? What else would one expect of a traitor’s daughter?”

He may as well have yanked that weapon free and splayed her open with it, as his charge ran through her. Lucas’ brother was a cold, unfeeling bastard; a man who had judged her, as so many others had before...and yet, in this, he was correct.

I have to leave Lucas. A sheen of tears blurred her vision and she looked away, refusing to allow him that victory.

“I’ve had a carriage readied and your belongings packed,” he said in bored tones. And with that, he turned on his heel and left her standing there, her world ratcheting down around her once more.

Chapter 9

Lucas had viewed his chambers as a sanctuary.

Until now.

He stood at the window overlooking the Kent countryside. The clock ticked away the passing moments and he gritted his teeth. Where in blazes is she?

In the weeks he’d come to know Eve, he’d learned many things about her: she was fiercely stubborn, outrageously clever, and contemplative. And prompt. The moment his valet beat his hasty retreat, she came shortly thereafter. Her movements in and out of these chambers had followed a punctuality reserved for a person who followed the drum.

Lucas glanced over his shoulder at the ormolu clock atop his mantel and squinted in a bid to bring the numbers into focus. Thirty minutes past seven. She was but twenty minutes late. There were any number of reasons for her absence. Mayhap she was still abed. They’d been awake well into the early morn hours. Mayhap—

Footsteps sounded in the hall and the tension left his frame as he swiftly turned to the front of the room. A faint scratching at the wood panel held him motionless. The hesitant knock. The bloody, bothersome—

RapRapRrap

His stomach muscles contracted. “Enter,” he called. But he knew before the door opened and the owner of that infernal rapping stepped inside that it was another. Because Eve had never, nor would ever, be a woman of that hesitant fear. It was just one of the marks of her strength and character that had captivated him since their first meeting.

Owen stepped inside, bearing a tray with Lucas’ morning meal. The pale-faced boy carefully avoided his eyes.

Even as he expected Eve, the muscles of his gut contracted and an irrational fear took hold. Again, there could be any reason for her absence.

“Where is Mrs. Nelson?” he demanded sharply.

Owen jumped and the items on his tray rattled noisily. “Mrs. Nelson?” the boy parroted, flicking his gaze about. The servant gulped loudly. “Sh-She’s not here, Captain Rayne, sir”

“Not here,” he repeated dumbly.

The boy set the tray down quickly by the door and backed away. “Y-yes, sir. Th-that is no, sir. Mrs. Nelson is gone.”

Gone? Lucas focused on his breathing to keep from descending into a maddening panic. Surely the boy was wrong. He would know if the sole reason for his happiness these past weeks had disappeared from his life. The world came to a screeching halt as the truth slammed into him. Since she’d entered his life, Eve had ushered in the happiness and light he’d despaired of ever again knowing. It was as though she’d opened the drapes to his soul and let life back in.

Owen dropped a hasty bow and made a quick beeline for the door. The movement jerked Lucas back to the present. “Wait!” Lucas’ sharp command brought the boy to a staggering halt. The young servant turned slowly back. Terror spilled from the lad’s eyes. Despite the fear clawing at his chest at the prospect of Eve simply vanishing from his life, regret was there, too. He no longer wished to be the man who scared off all and any who came near. I want to live again. “Where did she go?” he asked, gentling his tone.

The young man eyed him cautiously. “Your family returned, Captain.”

Lucas creased his brow attempting to make sense out of that divergent revelation. His brother’s betrothal ball wasn’t until the following week. What would prompt their return—?

“Lord Rayne’s betrothal...” Owen again swallowed loudly.

“What of it?” Lucas urged, taking a step toward the servant. And what did Richard’s betrothal ball have to do with Eve or his family’s return?

Owen cast a longing glance over his shoulder at the path of his escape. “Not my place to gossip, sir,” the boy fairly begged. “But the lady broke off the betrothal.”

Richard had suffered heartbreak at another lady’s hands? For so long, Lucas had not given thought to anyone’s happiness or misery beyond his own. Yet again, he was reminded of how Eve had dragged him back to the living, forcing him to again feel for not just himself—but the family who’d always loved him.

Then the words tumbled out quickly, spilling over one another, as Owen rushed his telling. “I hear tell from Mrs. Bramble, who heard from Mr. Haply that Mrs. Nelson isn’t, er...wasn’t who she said she was. The earl found out and rushed back to show her the door.”

A dull humming filled Lucas’ ears. No. His breath came raspy and harsh, the same distant, muffled sound that had filled his head in the heat of battle. His father had sacked Eve? The young woman trapped in her past, who he ached to set free. And just as much, he wanted to set himself free.

For with Eve, he’d forgotten what he’d done and what he’d been subjected to and, instead, existed as a man. They may as well have been any couple, learning of one another. After two years of being treated as more creature than man, a person to be pitied, she spoke to him. And his blasted father had turned her away.

“Which is a shame, Captain,” the boy continued over Lucas’ silent tumult. “Because I rather liked Mrs. Nelson. Kind lady. Brave. And—”

“Where is he?” he seethed.

Wide-eyed, Owen tiptoed, once more, carefully away. “The breakfast room with Her Ladyship and Mr.—” the boy gasped and stumbled out of the way as Lucas sprinted across the room.

Shoving past the boy, Lucas stormed into the halls, bellowing. By God, was his father a damned lackwit that he’d sack the bravest, most bloody honorable woman to set foot in this miserable household? He concentrated on his fury. It was safer than this cold seeping into his heart. She is gone and I am alone. And with her, has gone the sole happiness I’ve known. Fueled by that desperation, Lucas stormed through the halls. By Owen’s admission, the Earl of Lavery had gleaned Eve’s connection to a traitor and turned her away. And I was a coward, hiding in my chambers while she was sent away. A low, animalistic groan lodged painfully in his throat and he turned the corner. He skidded to a stop at the entrance of the breakfast room.

His parents and younger brother, Aidan, glanced up, the three pairs of eyes equal mirrors of shock.

“What have you done?” Lucas growled, not taking his gaze from his father.

“You are out of your chambers,” his mother whispered, pressing her hands to her heart.

Ignoring that useless observation, Lucas stalked forward.

His father shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand—”

“Do not pretend you don’t know precisely what I’m speaking of,” Lucas raged. He slammed his fist into his open palm. “You sent away Mrs. Nelson.”

That accusation was met with resounding silence. His parents exchanged a look. “I did not send the lady away,” his father began slowly. The earl cast a look at the two footmen against the wall and the men immediately took that silent cue and left, closing the door behind them. “The lady left of her own volition,” he continued when the Raynes were, at last, alone.

Lucas’ heart splintered. “Impossible.” He curled his hand over the back of a vacant dining chair. The woman he’d held in his arms, who’d helped free him of his past, and who’d let him inside her own world would not leave him with nary a word. Not unless she’d been so forced.

“Quite possible,” Aidan said tightly, calling Lucas’ attention to his glowering brother. “The lady was found out and knew there was no course but to leave.”

“Found out?” he repeated, hating that in this suddenly uncertain world, he’d become a hollow echo of other peoples’ confounded words.

“You could not have known,” his mother said softly.

Known what? He wanted to toss his head back and rail in frustration.

“That she is an Ormond,” his father supplied.

Lucas stood flummoxed, the steady ground pulled out from under his feet. Eve Nelson, daughter to the traitor at Talavera was, in fact, an Ormond. A long-time enemy of the Raynes, the lady would never have been granted employment or so much as scraps from the kitchens if her identity had been known. That useless feud was fueled by hatred and the quest for power and property. And for that, Eve had gone away. His parents could not know the proud, strong woman she was. The woman who’d saved him, even more than his brother-in-law’s rescue from that French prison.