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children withthem, but Gloriana’s view of marriage was not conventional. She’d seen the warm relationship between her father. Cyrus, and her mother, the gentle Edwenna, and the noble union shared by Gareth and his beloved Elaina. She wanted that kind of dedication, that kind of love, for herself and Dane, and she would settle for nothing less.
    “Oh, Edward,” she whispered, and sagged against him, her sodden hair tumbling over his tunic. “Whatever shall I do?”
    He kissed her temple, her oldest and dearest friend, the boy she thought of as her brother, and wrapped his arms around her. “The solution is simple,” he said tenderly. “You shall divorce the rogue and marry me.”

Chapter 2
    O ne of the massive doors of Gareth’s study stood ajar, a sure sign that Lord Hadleigh expected a visit. Dane was still ruffled from his encounter with Gloriana when he stepped over the threshold.
    Gareth, apparently unaware of his brother’s presence, stood at one of the windows with both hands braced upon the sill, gazing toward the abbey. His thoughts could have been no plainer if they’d been written in letters of fire—even now, then, Gareth pined for his fey Elaina.
    “Is she still with the nuns?” Dane asked. He spoke quietly, but his voice came out sounding rough.
    His brother’s broad, sturdy shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly, as if in response to a cudgel blow, and he turned at last to face Kenbrook.
    “She is no better,” he said with a nod, and though he smiled, both his words and his eyes brimmed with sorrow. “But no worse. We must be thankful for whatever blessings heaven deigns to grant us.”
    Dane crossed the room and stood before his brother. For a long moment, the two men simplylooked at each other in silence, thinking their own thoughts and sharing no part of them.
    Gareth, a score older than Dane, had been a second father to him and to Edward, since their sire had been a knight, in service to the King, and thus kept himself far from Hadleigh Castle most of the time. Their father had fallen in a skirmish with the Irish when Edward was still learning to walk, and sadly, his heirs had not missed him overmuch, for he had been a stranger to them.
    “Ii is good to have you home again,” Gareth said at last, and cleared his throat. He reached out to lay a hand on Dane’s shoulder. “You look well and, God be thanked, whole. Tell me—have you looked upon your wife? I dare say our Gloriana has fulfilled every promise of loveliness and virtue.”
    Dane had hoped the subject of Gloriana would not come up quite so quickly. He was still reeling from the sight of the woman reclining beneath a layer of yellow rose petals, presumably naked. He had expected something very different—a shriveled female, someone barren and bitter, and perhaps toothless, with wrinkles and streaks of gray in her hair.
    But Gloriana was beautiful, breathtakingly so. And where she was concerned, Kenbrook’s thoughts, usually so well marshaled, were ajumble. “Yes,” he muttered, averting his eyes. He had seen so little of her, but he could imagine the rest only too vividly.
    Finally, he managed a pained smile and touched his brother’s arm. “Sit down, Gareth,” he said. “There are matters we must discuss.”
    Frowning slightly, Gareth took a seat behind the large, unornamented oak table that served as his desk. Dane perched on a high stool nearby, catching one foot in the lowest rung as he had always done.
    “I do hope,” Gareth said gravely, “that you are not about to tell me you cannot stay in England. You are sorely needed here, Dane.” He gestured in the direction of the hall, rising beyond the shining waters of the lake. “Kenbrook is falling into ruin, the roads are choked with bandits, and our troubles with Merrymont continue. Without your help, I fear we shall soon have naught but chaos.”
    Merrymont was a neighboring baron, and the enmity between his household and Hadleigh’s went back for