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around the room. And then he left too.
    She moved to the door to the hallway in time to hear light footsteps running down the stairs and the front door being open and shut.
    He left.
    He left ?
    She flew to the windows, but they looked out on the gardens. Her heart drumming, Letitia turned away from them. Her gaze slid around the room—the neatly turned bed, the flower arrangement in the cavity of a cold fireplace. The emptiness of her new life.
    She let out a shaky breath. Josepha tried to see something good in everyone. But how wrong she was this time. Sir Percival just showed the entire household how little he cared about his new baronetess.
    Outwardly, he was not old, ugly, fat or ill-mannered, as she had fully expected. Quite the opposite. Had she met him in London at some entertainment, she would have been immediately drawn to him, to the handsome features and thoughtful expression of his gaze. He did not make the impression of a man who could be bribed into marriage.
    But he apparently could be. He had been .
    Josepha came back with one of the old nightgowns, helped her change and brushed out her hair. All that time, Josie kept uncharacteristically silent. Judging by this subdued demeanor, the entire household already knew that Sir Percival Hanbury had jilted his bride on their wedding night.
    “Good night, Josie.” Letitia yawned. “I’m so tired. You must rest too. My clothes can wait.”
    On impulse, they embraced each other.
    “Good night,” Josepha muttered, gently rocking from side to side, the way she used to whenever little Lettie needed consolation over a sick doll or a scraped knee. “Everything will turn out fine, you’ll see.”
    Letitia patted Josepha’s back reassuringly.
    “I have you, and that’s what counts,” she said softly and swallowed the lump filling her throat.
    After Josepha left the room, Letitia lay down on the bed and turned to face the windows and the soft breeze of cooler night air. There was little chance she would fall asleep anytime soon.
    Sir Percival ought to have had enough decency to stay in the house. He didn’t have to share her bed. She didn’t want to share it either. But now it struck her that he had never intended to consummate their marriage and had planned all along to spend the night elsewhere.
    And, of course, it wasn’t difficult to guess where that elsewhere was. Her husband had a mistress.

Chapter Five
    Dressed in riding clothes, Percy left the house in the direction of the stables. As always at this late hour, he quietly saddled his horse himself.
    The night was bright and the sky cloudless, but he would have no trouble finding his way to Wycombe Oaks, even in complete darkness.
    He had gone that way countless times over the years. Although it was no longer necessary to sneak about unnoticed like a thief peeking in through the lowest windows, no one had to know how much he yearned to touch the walls that were once home to his family. He needed to do it alone, before officially entering the house on the morrow in the presence of its staff, few as they were at the moment. For the first time in nearly a quarter of a century, he again had the right to be there.
    His father-in-law, who so easily relinquished the property, together with his daughter, would be surprised to find out how much Percy knew about the estate.
    It had been common knowledge in the neighborhood that unlike the previous owners who had called Wycombe Oaks their home since the days of Edward IV, Stanville exploited the land, taking from it as much as he could and giving nothing in return. The outbuildings were in a dilapidated condition, having seen no investment in over two decades. There were no stables to speak of, except those that housed a few necessary workhorses. The roof of the carriage house suffered from numerous leaks that had ruined the vehicles left behind after Stanville removed the best ones to his other estates.
    Even the land refused to give what it had given before. And