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Chapter One

London, 1848

Winter

Win had always thought Kev Merripen was beautiful, in the way that an austere landscape or a wintry day could be beautiful He was a large, striking le The exotic boldness of his features was a perfect setting for eyes so dark that the irises were barely distinguishable fro, his brows strong and straight And his widecurve that Win found irresistible

Merripen Her love, but never her lover They had known each other since childhood, when he had been taken in by her fah the Hathaways had always treated him as one of their own, Merripen had acted in the capacity of a servant A protector An outsider

He came to Win's bedroom and stood at the threshold to watch as she packed a valise with a few personal articles from the top of her dresser A hairbrush, a rack of pins, a handful of handkerchiefs that her sister Poppy had embroidered for her As Win tucked the objects into the leather bag, she was intensely aware of Merripen's motionless form She knehat lurked beneath his stillness, because she felt the sa

The thought of leaving hi her heart And yet there was no choice She had been an invalid ever since she'd had scarlet fever two years earlier She was thin and frail and given to fainting spells and fatigue Weak lungs, all the doctors had said Nothing to do but succumb A lifetime of bed rest followed by an early death

Win would not accept such a fate

She longed to get well, to enjoy the things that h the countryside She wanted the freedom to love… to marry… to have her own family someday

With her health in such a poor state, there was no possibility of doing any of those things But that was about to change She was departing this day for a French clinic, where a dyna doctor, Julian Harrow, had achieved remarkable results for patients just like herself His treatments were unorthodox, controversial, but Win didn't care She would have done anything to be cured Because until that day came, she could never have Merripen

"Don't go," he said, so softly that she almost didn't hear him

Win struggled to remain outwardly calm, even as a hot-and-cold chill went down her spine

"Please close the door," she ed to say They needed privacy for the conversation they were about to have

Merripen didn't move Color had risen in his swarthy face, and his black eyes glittered with a ferocity that wasn't at all like him He was all Rom at this moment, his emotions closer to the surface than he ever usually allowed

She went to close the door herself, while he moved away from her as if any contact between them would result in fatal harm

"Why don't you want ently

"You won't be safe there"

"I'll be perfectly safe," she said "I have faith in Dr Harrow His treath success rate-"

"He's had as many failures as successes There are better doctors here in London You should try them first"