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~ Prologue ~

1782

GODWIN, LORD OF RAVENSBURY, STOOD, a lone figure on the craggy cliffs of Land’s End in Cornwall, England

Before hi as they crashed into the jutting rocks Those jutting craggy rocks, harsh in their greatness, looked o

He loved this scene He belonged here He supposed he ainst such a wild background He was proud that he was ht and broad shoulders Enough to make a quarrelsome chap a charmer, and his mien…he kneas a buck in his heyday and fiercely honest in his beliefs

His red hair swept over his eyes, wild in the wind, and he pushed it away from his face He held his cloak with his free hand close to his chest as it whipped around him

A pool of water had collected froazed at hiht, could she love such a devilishly looking man with such black eyes and brows? Could she?

He had come here to his favorite place to be alone He had to , at only one and twenty, to have to make this decision, but he had no choice He was lord and master of his home, and his home was empty and lonely

He had lost his parents while he was at school, when he was seventeen Still a boy, he lost his older brother a year later, when his brother sailing a rough sea had been found with the wreckage of his sloop on the rocky beach

At eighteen, he was alone He had no other family to claim as his own

Aye, he was Godwin, Lord Ravensbury, and with all his wealth and position, he knew deep sorrow

Now, though only one and twenty, he kneanted a fah he was still so young, he was quite (he told hie of his father’s prosperous holdings, of the estate, and he had done ith those responsibilities

Nohat he needed was to keep the na around his house,it a home hat he wanted—what he needed He could picture the, and hoanted them They would breathe life into his stale ho such a pack made him delirious with pleasure

A bride? Oh, but he had one inwhose full youthful body was so his own He wanted the lovely Lisa…no, no, as he thinking? It could never be Lisa Lisa was lost to him

It would be the lovely Sara, Sara of Farenday She would be his bride She was a beauty, with hair the color of sun-ripened wheat and eyes the color of a clear sky She was an innocent, so very different than Lisa

He would take Sara for his own and teach her what pleasure could be had in the bedroo voice, a voice that would not be stilled, asked if he loved Sara

He must love her, he answered himself How could he not?

He had made up hishis bride to his castle and they would make it a home!

Sara Farenday sat alone on a hilltop not far from her home Heather filled the air with sweetness as it swayed in the wind and she absently ran her hand through it, picked a few sprigs and breathed deeply

Her long blonde hair blew across her face and she pushed it away She was only seventeen, and her fa her that with her beauty she could have anyone she wanted as a husband

So then, why didn’t they let her choose the man she wanted?

She gazed back at the modest Tudor home in the distance She loved her home, but her mother had inspired her to want more Jewels and beautiful clothes, her er That is what you need, what you deserve

Indeed, she grew up believing this was true