Loving the Son of a Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance #17) (A Historical Romance Book): Valiant Love, #17

By Deborah Wilson

Miss Azalea Greensley has been called many things.

A healer. A miracle worker. A murderer.

The last isn't true, but she has little ambition to fight the rumors.

All she's ever wanted to be was a healer and to save as many people as possible.

And she'd been doing it in peace until a certain gentleman from her past began to stick his nose in her affairs.

Azalea plans to do whatever she can to keep her secrets from him.

But… she can't seem to keep away from him.

Lord Christian Sparrow has been assigned to watch over England's mysterious healer, and he'll learn who she is by any means necessary.

But when his heart races and his skin becomes flushed, Christian is left to examine his symptoms and discover if he's caught the common cold… or love.

But when the rumors began to haunt them, Azalea will find that trusting Christian may be her only hope for a future.

Can they have that future together?

Or will her secret finally be the thing to push him away forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Wilson
• Release date: Feb 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393180739

Deborah Wilson

As a young girl, Deborah has been an avid fan of Regency authors such as Jane Austen. Deborah has always been in love with the Regency era. Despite the fact that this era is filled with great social, political, and economic upheavals and happenings, yet there is still plenty of room for episodes of romance happenings. In this era, love was pure. In this era, one can still find men and women who would have the courage to express their love while living amongst strict social customs for courtships. In such times, romantic gestures could be small yet they have a beautiful, meaningful impact. It is Deborah’s desire that through her writings, one will find the courage to love, to profess love and to pursue love. And the reason is simple. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. Pure and simple. Deborah is the author of ❦ VALIANT LOVE ❦ series. While the wealthy and titled men and women of the early nineteenth century were known for their extravagance in dress and decor and the rules that governed ‘polite society’, she wanted this series to focus on something different. Honor. What makes a man or woman honorable and where does love fit into all of this? “Let good be thy fortune and honor thy wealth.” Read and find out now for yourself Sign up now to Deborah’s VIP email list. Why? You will never miss a new release. You will be notified by Deborah personally as soon as her next book is out. →⟫⟫ http://eepurl.com/dHxqRD And please don’t forget to connect with Deborah on facebook. She loves hearing from her readers and sharing her thoughts and writing progress. →⟫⟫ https://www.facebook.com/deborahwilsonbooks

Book preview

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TRIGGER WARNING

Please be advised that this story contains discussions on sexual abuse. While no portion of the book includes in-depth details or graphic elements, this warning is intended for those readers who are most sensitive to the subject.

ABOUT THE BOOK

William Lambe is the English pioneer of vegetarianism. As a physician in London, he was quoted in 1813 for believing a diet of water and vegetables was the cure for any ailment— including deadly tuberculosis.

Our leading lady’s practice is founded on Lambe’s teachings, but her facility actually comes from a place I visited while in Belgium. In the city of Brugge, you’ll find a museum built in the 13th century. It was dedicated to the beguines, a group of women who banded together during a time when the fairer sex had little rights.

Though they prayed, they were not nuns. They could marry if they wished and leave the facility at any time. Yet while there, they were part of a sisterhood that focused on feeding the poor and healing the sick.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Dance with me.

Azalea cleared her throat before she spoke over the noise of the ballroom. No. Thank you.

That wasn’t a request.

She stared up at Lord Christian Sparrow. Her gaze tangled with his.

His smoke-colored eyes were laden with suspicion. The lucid gray shifted and changed with his emotions and the light.

She could choke on the pretentiousness that seemed to flow from that gaze and roll off his powerful shoulders.

Christian seemed to have been designed with arrogance in mind. He had thick hair the shade of golden oak. His face was sculpted with bold strokes. Hooded eyes and a broad nose. High cheekbones slanted toward a hard jaw and finished with a proud chin.

And then there was his body.

How fair was it that a man of intellect should also be so brawny and tall?

Most people fell short in some capacity but not Lord Christian.

Born the son of a duke, he’d have been adored by the ton if he’d chosen to make a profession of chasing skirts. He definitely had the looks and charm for it.

Yet, instead of becoming a lord of leisure, he’d studied and become a renowned doctor.

His methods were unusual and his success well earned. He was tried and tested in the field of medicine. But Azalea couldn’t help but test him further.

She didn’t bother to look down at his hand as she handed him her champagne glass. He didn’t bother to look away as he handed it to a passing servant. Then his hand waited for her again.

She took it. You’re assuming I know how to waltz.

He pulled her through the crowd. He yanked when she gave some resistance. I’m assuming much about you.

Even his voice was perfect. Its deep richness made Azalea close her eyes and savor it.

But when her eyes opened again, she made certain they held disdain. You’re also assuming I won’t hurt you.

He spun her in and locked her in place with his hand at her back. But you’re forgetting. I know your style, Miss Azalea. They don’t call you the Queen of Poisons for nothing. I plan to neither eat nor drink anything while you’re in London.

She gasped. You’ll avoid food while I’m in the city? You won’t eat even after I leave this ball? Truly, I find myself... moved that you believe me capable of being everywhere at once. She was also a little angry and wondered if others were avoiding food because of her.

I suppose you’re proud of yourself. You’re a legend.

No, I’m not. Unicorns are legends.

He chuckled. Unicorns? Do you like unicorns?

Yes.

What physicians do you admire?

She sighed and thought. One came to mind first. She hesitated before she said his name. Dr. Joseph Adams.

He seemed surprised. You mean the man who ran the Smallpox Hospital? The one who inflicted his entire family with itch insects for the sake of science?

Yes. She’d known Christian would take issue with her selection.

Wasn’t he the same man who had a fascination with poisons as well?

Azalea felt herself blush. Not just poisons but disease and infection and cancer.

I’m sure.

She ignored his condescending tone. I’ve likely read everything he ever published. Adams died seven years ago and his work all but died with him, but for Azalea, Adams’ thoughts were revolutionary. You should read his journals. I believe he was on to something great where vaccines and disease advancements were concerned.

He smirked. Actually, I have read his journals and everything he published in the London Medical.

Really? Men hardly ever talked to her about medicine, and she knew very few women who were interested in health unless it concerned their own.

Christian indulged her further on the topic. I was even fortunate to attend one of his lectures with my father. I believe I was ten at the time.

She sighed longingly. I’d have enjoyed that. Do you remember anything he said?

No, unfortunately not. Christian’s eyes got a far-off look. But I remember enjoying him. He looked at her again. You agree with his position on inoculation?

I do. I believe diseases will change over time, just as people do, and so inoculation must as well.

Did Gloria share your enjoyment of medicine?

And just like that, they were back on the subject of poison.

Gloria was a woman who’d owned a confectionery shop in Mayfair. She’d made treats during the day and poisons at night. She was the legend he’d spoken about earlier. Not Azalea.

Azalea was a healer who’d never purposefully tried to hurt anyone.

Yet somehow, Azalea and Gloria had become one and the same after the other woman’s death. They’d had the same suppliers for plants and oils and they’d been friends... in a way, but they’d never worked together.

Azalea had thought to correct the assumption, but... so far, the most powerful people in England had decided she should live. What was the point in muddying the waters with the truth?

People feared her, and she feared them discovering her true identity.

Can’t we go back to talking about medicine? I liked that.

His lips twitched. Are you related to Gloria?

She rolled her eyes. Take a guess.

He paused and blinked. Then he cleared his throat. I know you took up Gloria’s business after she died, he said, quoting facts that everyone believed were true because she’d never corrected them. So, now you are Queen.

Well, if I’m queen then I command you to let me go. I don’t want to dance.

Why?

Guess.

The order caught him off guard. She was playing with fire, she knew.

But the music queued and in the next heartbeat, Christian swept her up in the dance and Azalea lost her breath. It took him two seconds to learn just one of the many truths she was hiding. You don’t know how to dance.

She made her smile odious. No, I don’t. Sorry, but I believe I’m about to embarrass you. Though she was a legend, no one knew who she was. She hadn’t been announced upon her arrival at the ball she’d been forced to attend.

He grinned. Follow my lead.

I’m not very good at following. She never had been.

I’ll teach you.

He was so arrogant. And they both knew he didn’t mean to ‘teach’ her anything. He meant to break her. Why did that thrill her?

With an inward step that forced her to move or fall, he was leading. Every motion, every turn was guided either by the feel of his fingers on her hand or the one pressed to her back.

She let out a nervous breath and looked down at their feet.

Up at me.

Her chin popped up in obedience.

Amusement made his eyes glow. How is it you know so much but don’t know how to dance?

She shrugged. Not everyone can be as well rounded as you, my lord.

You can’t waltz. That alone is a clue to your true identity.

No more talking. You’re distracting me. She honestly didn’t want to embarrass herself. It didn’t matter if only the Duke of Van Dero and those trusted officers in his illegal organization knew who she was. She didn’t want to fall. She didn’t want to fail.

But she’d known the reason he’d pulled her onto the dancefloor. She’d known he wanted to ask her questions and unveil her secrets.

So far, she’d been very good at keeping her identity a mystery.

Azalea. That was what everyone called her.

Her real name had been buried with her past.

You were born in the middle-class or lower, Christian declared. Ladies are all taught how to dance.

Wrong. She’d been born to a titled man... not that her father’s rank had saved her at all.

She smiled but said nothing. She was too busy counting her steps. One, two, three, four.

As if knowing what she was doing, he narrowed his gaze. Stop that.

Stop what? Two, three, four...

Azalea.

She liked the way he said her name. He said it right. He said it the way it was meant to be said.

Let me guide you.

Two, three, four.

He lifted a brow. Submit.

Her lips parted. She looked away and felt herself color.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, Surely, submission isn’t the most terrible idea.

Her forehead broke out into a sweat. Would you please stop speaking?

He laughed and leaned away. I’m going to learn your truth one of these days.

She prayed he didn’t. Christian knowing the truth was her worst nightmare.

Thankfully, he was silent for the rest of the dance.

But when she tried to break away, he tucked her hand into his arm and started them in a stroll around the room.

When introduced to lords and ladies, everyone called her, Miss Azalea Greensley. It was the name she and a friend had created a few years ago.

Christian’s voice forced her to focus on him again.

Not that she’d be able to think of anything else for long. Not with his arm underneath her hand. If you haven’t guessed it yet, I’m your chaperone for the evening.

She scoffed. I’m a little old for a chaperone.

How old?

She said nothing. Learning she was twenty-five was one step closer to learning everything else.

How about we play a game? he asked as they strolled around the room. I’m twenty-eight. So tell me, are you older or younger than me?

Older.

So, you’re younger.

She looked at him. I’m not telling you, and I don’t need a chaperone. Haven’t you heard? I don’t make poisons anymore. I’m nothing more than a healer now. There hadn’t been any exotic poisons on the streets of London for months.

Azalea had known where Gloria kept her supply. When she’d first been blamed for making them, she’d looked, but they were gone. She assumed whoever took them had run out by now.

He grunted. And I’ve yet to decide if you’re actually a healer or not.

She rolled her eyes. Last year, you examined Lady Ivers and found a sizable lump in her breast. Last month you examined her again and found nothing.

That doesn’t mean you had anything to do with it.

She healed in my care.

That means nothing. There are over a million factors that can contribute to her recovery.

Yes. Perhaps the lump moved to India.

Azalea...

Her tummy fluttered. Or maybe France. It was quite sizable. If the lump decided to dress itself up, perhaps people would think him Napoleon returned.

He laughed and forced her to face him. Come on. You know it’s true. Just because Lady Ivers is well—

Maybe the lump went wherever you left your brain. She snatched her hand from him. I’m finding both are rather irritating. And with that, she spun away.

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Christian didn’t let the little poisoner get far. A good chaperone stayed close to his charge.

And Azalea was very easy to stay closer to.

She smelled wonderful. Though he was cautious about breathing her in too deeply, as she was a woman who made her living off toxins. Yet how many times had he imagined pressing his nose against the creamy skin of her neck?

Would she be as soft as he imagined? Had the circumstances been different, he’d have pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat to find out.

Christian did enjoy a good investigation. And nothing was more of a challenge than the woman with one name. Azalea.

She left the ballroom and started for the refreshments.

Oh, no, you don’t. He grabbed her arm and turned her in another direction.

I’m parched.

Yes, but Van Dero would have it so his guests survived the night. That means not letting you anywhere near the food and punch. It would take you no more than a second to sprinkle some forbidden powder over everything. Next thing we know, half the party is giving up their accounts.

She’d hurt people, but Christian was used to that sort. Thankfully, Van Dero was changing and so he saw fewer injuries than before.

He’d been in Cassius’ service for two years, tending to the duke, his family, and the injuries of his officers and closest allies.

And he loved every minute of it. Medicine had always been his calling. No assignment was too small. No mystery too great.

Having to chaperone Azalea was... different.

But different in the best way possible.

I want to go to the buffet table.

No.

But I’m hungry, she whined.

He smiled as she stomped her foot.

She groaned. It’s your fault. You tired me out on the dancefloor. Now how am I supposed to refuel my energy?

We’ll figure out something. And he thought of other ways to tire her out.

Ways that involved closed doors and silk sheets.

Her red hair spread over a goose down pillow.

Her eyes staring up at him with wonder.

And something within Christian said she wouldn’t refuse him.

Not that he was an expert on such things. Though he’d been told he looked well enough to play the rogue, he’d never been drawn to act on it. He hadn’t been with many women. Just one, actually. A woman at a brothel where his brother had once taken him.

He’d been close to marriage just once, but when she’d tried to force his hand, he’d sent her away.

There had been other women who’d wanted him. Christian was the son of a duke and a celebrity in London. Before Cassius, he’d worked for the duke’s predecessor Gregory. Gregory had been the most wicked man in England.

There were women who thought Christian wicked for keeping the old duke alive as long as he had. He always turned them away.

But Azalea...

He’d felt a strong connection with the healer since the moment they’d met a month ago. It was even stronger than what he’d felt for Pearl.

The defiance in her gaze and posture and her teasing tone had Christian spellbound. The woman was just as dangerous as the concoctions she peddled.

I can have a maid select you a few things, but nothing that can be converted into a poison, naturally.

She glared prettily at him. She was so pretty. Her eyes were the color of ripe cocoa beans. A warm brown that darkened whenever she grew testy.

Like now. I’m starting to feel like a prisoner, my lord. For a woman from the middle or lower class, she spoke like a lady.

Yet she couldn’t waltz...

Maybe she was the distant cousin of some well-to-do family, which would explain her speech and knowledge, but they’d never taught her to dance. Maybe the cousins had treated her like an upstairs servant as many did when taking in members of the family.

He snapped the fingers on his free hand. That’s the perfect analogy for your predicament. Yes! Start to see this ball as your prison and me as your warden.

She wrinkled her nose at him. Why would Van Dero ask you to watch me? You’re hardly... warden material.

He stiffened and glared when he noted her smile. She’d felt his reaction. What makes you believe I’m not warden material?

She looked him over and then turned away. I don’t know. She cleared her throat and then swallowed. You’re just... Well... I would have assumed he’d have put an actual guard on me. She rolled her eyes. There are plenty of those walking around.

Christian didn’t have to look around to know she spoke the truth. As they stepped into the gallery, he saw two standing on the other side of the long hall.

Van Dero employed quite a few watchmen. And the footmen and maids all knew how to defend themselves or put down and hold an attacker long enough for help to arrive.

Van Dero ran a tight ship.

One had to if they planned to control all of England.

"We’ve been paired together because I’m a man of medicine. Real medicine. He grinned before he went on. I’m the first person they’ll need if you decided to hurt someone."

Maybe you’re wrong. She stopped walking and he faced her. Her full lips were a naturally deep tone. Nearly as deep a hue as her flaming hair.

A remarkable shade on a remarkable woman.

How am I wrong? he asked.

She smirked. "Perhaps you’re not my chaperone. Perhaps I’m your chaperone."

He grunted. I beg your pardon?

I run a women’s hospital—

Hospital? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh? It’s more like a small collection of buildings made of sticks that would be best used for firewood. He’d never seen it himself, but he’d heard the reports.

Her hospital was in terrible condition. How many of the women who resided there survived, he didn’t know.

And yet! She lifted her voice... and then lowered it. Van Dero has pulled me away from my very important work so that I’d attend a silly ball.

Balls serve a purpose in Society. They—

Why, you might ask? She lifted a brow and then stepped closer. Her voice dropped. Perhaps he’s lost confidence in you, my lord. Perhaps he prefers my methods over yours and is considering replacing you.

All humor let him. I thought you delusional when you called yourself a doctor, but this proves just how little you actually know. Van Dero has entrusted me with the lives of those he holds dearest. Those being his wife and son. He’d never let you near them.

Because I’m a woman?

No, because you’re not trained as a doctor. You’ve no credentials. You attended no schools. I doubt Azalea is even your true name. You’re not a doctor.

Why that made her smile, he didn’t know. And yet here I am.

There’s a reason for that.

Her eyes widened. You know why I’m here?

Of course, I do. Did she actually think Van Dero had called her here for some entertainment? The duke had no plans to make her his official physician. The very thought was... irritating.

She still held his arm. Her fingers tightened. Why? What does he want?

Guess. He threw her own words back at her.

The term always drove him mad. His father used to say it to him.

Take a guess. Think. What do you think?

Christian hadn’t wanted to think. He’d simply wanted to know. He’d wanted the answers to the mysteries of the world, yet they were often just out of reach.

He wanted to ask me questions, of course. She bit her lower lip. Right? That’s all, right?

All will be revealed in time. His words held more than one meaning.

She’d find out the purpose for her presence, and he’d find out everything there was to know about the self-proclaimed little healer.

Though really, there were more than a few claims to her status as a doctor. Of the five patients Azalea had told them about, all had recovered significantly from whatever ailment they’d previously had.

Christian wanted to know how she did it, but he wasn’t allowed at her hospital.

Only women were allowed there and when he pressed to go anyway, Milly had refused him.

Milly was the Duchess of Van Dero and just as formidable as her husband. While Cassius was more inclined to end the lives of his enemies swiftly, Milly enjoyed making her victims suffer by forcing them to look deep into their souls and face the ugliness they’d created.

Christian had watched grown men cry. It was very unsettling.

Lord Jeremy Warren approached a second later. Lady Azalea. He took her hand and kissed it. The move was bold considering what she did with those hands.

Heal. Hurt.

Even Azalea looked amazed... and impressed. She smiled. Hello, Lord Jeremy. Can you make Lord Christian go away? He’s decided to starve me.

I did not.

Jeremy took her hand from Christian. How very ungentlemanly of him. And you, the most beautiful guest here? He tsked. Come. We shall feast on all that is offered. His green eyes devoured her.

Azalea either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She smiled as they stepped in the direction of the buffet.

One step was all Christian allowed her. He wrapped a hand around her arm. Go away, Jeremy.

Jeremy bowed. Another time, my lady. He was the only one who insisted Azalea was a lady in disguise.

Her mouth fell open as the man turned away, likely to go prey on an easier catch. Jeremy would spend the evening gaining secrets and favors from women. The former for Cassius. The latter for himself.

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0 3

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Azalea watched Jeremy disappear around a corner and then turned to glare at Christian. Why are you being so...? There were so many words she could have used to finish that statement.

But Christian’s anger was wholly distracting. His eyes radiated heat. If anyone is going to feed you, it will be me.

Azalea swallowed and wondered why it was that whenever he spoke to her, it was from a place of complete authority. And not the sort that Society had decided came with all lords at their birth.

No, this was very different. It went deeper. It burned hotter. He spoke as though he knew her. Like he’d known her forever. Like everything Azalea was and everything she owned was all thanks to him.

And that was all very, very close to the truth.

She shivered and then he turned her and marched her farther down the hall and away from the crowds. They entered the duke’s study, and he directed her to a table and pushed her down into a chair. Stay there. I’ll have someone bring us a meal.

She looked around. The room was dark with only a lamp lit on the desk. Outside the window, the trees were lit with hanging lanterns as guests strolled through the gardens.

The office was quiet. The shadows made her feel very alone, yet very aware of Christian.

He moved to the bell pull and gave it a patronizing yank. All the while, his eyes stayed on her.

A footman came in.

We require food and wine.

No meat or dairy, she called.

Christian lifted a brow but turned to the footman and nodded. No meat or dairy. Then he closed the door and joined her at the table. You don’t eat meat?

No.

Or drink milk? Ever?

I believe that is what I just said.

He sat down. Why? Do they make you ill?

She sighed. No.

He waited. The bones of his face were more prominent in the dark. Away from the noise and sights, she was able to take in the faint shadow along his jaw. She wondered if it had been a long night for the doctor. The hour was nearing midnight.

His eyes, colorless thanks to the faint lighting, were still just as powerful.

She took a deep breath and thought about what she would say. He was very clever. She remembered that about him. She wondered just how long it would take him to find out who she was. Not long, if he paid attention.

But then again, there was always the chance that he would never learn the truth. And wouldn’t that be just as terrible?

I find that the diet agrees with me.

In what way?

She leaned away and played with her skirt. It was the duchess’ dress actually. An old one from last Season that was still in perfect condition. Lady Van Dero had never worn it. She’d had many dresses like the one she wore, and Azalea had enjoyed digging through the duchess’ things. It had been like shopping but without money. And Azalea loved to shop. It was her vice.

Belle had also been there and full of life with a pregnant belly. She adored the dress and said it was a little too bold for Milly anyway. But not too bold for Azalea, whose exotic name and dark red hair seemed to pair with the gown. It added another layer of mystery to her. The gown, the perfect shade of spilled blood, fit perfectly.

I simply prefer not to eat meat, she said.

Why?

Must you know everything?

He lifted a brow. When it concerns you? Yes.

She covered her cheeks and reminded herself to breathe normally.

A knock sounded on the door.

The maid who came in was followed by two footmen and another carting a wheeled tray.

They brought more than just food. In minutes, the simple wooden table was covered with white linen. A candle was lit. White china was assembled and succulent offerings of various roasted vegetables she knew hadn’t been on the buffet table were spread out before them.

What is all of this? Christian demanded.

It’s from Lady Van Dero, the lead footman said. Apparently, she was aware of Miss Azalea’s strict diet and prepared accordingly.

Azalea smiled.

Christian didn’t. But all of this? He waved at the well-appointed table. It’s unnecessary.

I find it wonderful, Azalea said. I wonder if she’ll feed me this way once I’ve taken over your position permanently.

The servants’ eyes widened. They all stopped their work.

Christian waved them off. Ignore her. I’m not going anywhere.

The servants resumed their motions and were gone a moment later.

Azalea was already eating by the time Christian turned to her. Her hunger hadn’t been a joke. She had to hold back her moans over every bite.

Christian looked at the food and then at her again. Then he served himself. The servants had put a plate in front of his chair, but she hadn’t thought it would see any use.

You’re actually going to eat? she asked.

He shrugged. I find I’m hungry.

But what if I poisoned it?

I’ve been watching you. You’ve had no time.

You don’t know that.

He stuck his fork into a slice of carrot and... held it out to her. A flush went through her just as her stomach dropped. As he held the food out toward her mouth, she could almost imagine that the act was intimate. But it wasn’t.

What if someone else poisoned us? she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. Then he turned the carrot back to himself and took a bite.

Azalea watched. For some reason, she was nervous. Knowing that she hadn’t poisoned the food didn’t calm her. There were people in the building who didn’t like her, she was sure of it. What if they were trying to hurt her? What if Christian was in on it?

That would break her heart faster than any poison would.

Christian’s eyes widened. His fork clattered against the china. His hand went to this throat.

It was poisoned.

She gasped and stood. Oh, Chris! Oh! I didn’t do this! I swear. But it didn’t matter. He would still die.

There was no cure for poison. There was nothing she could do.

There was no one she could call.

He looked up at her in confusion.

She went to him. Chris, spit it out!

He shook his head.

It was too late.

Her vision blurred. She touched his cheek and then she turned away.

She couldn’t watch what would happen next. Depending on the poison, he’d vomit, first food then blood. Perhaps his throat would swell and he’d lose his ability to breathe. His face would grow a terrible red and then blue. And then...

She choked on a sob. They’d lock her away. Van Dero would make her sorry.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. She looked up into Christian’s face.

He frowned. It was a joke. I’m not dying.

She blinked her tears away. They slipped down her cheeks. You’re not? Her heart raced.

He shook his head. No. And clearly, my death would trouble you greatly. So, I’m going to assume that it’s all right to eat in your presence. He didn’t look happy though.

She slowed her breathing in an effort to slow her heart. She swallowed. I don’t hurt people.

He ignored her. You called me Chris.

What?

You called me Chris, he accused.

She blinked again. Oh. I’m sorry. Lord Christian. I meant Lord Christian.

You called me Chris. Twice.

She widened her eyes. I said I was sorry. I don’t know what came over me. She’d never called him Chris aloud. Only when she’d been alone had she whispered it in her dreams. She’d never said his name to his face until a month ago.

Before that, simply breathing it in such an informal manner had been forbidden her.

No one calls me that but my brother, Christian said.

∫  ∫  ∫

0 4

*   *   *

Azalea said nothing. She was too scared to speak.

She’d heard Burke call Christian ‘Chris’ many times before, but she also remembered his father calling him that.

She’d been a scullery maid in his house. The kitchens had been her domain. She’d cleaned the dishes and chopped the meat and vegetables. She’d scrubbed floors and did whatever was needed to make the kitchen as efficient as possible. Then