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find a man of my own.”
    Violet bit back a smile. “Good idea.” Their tastes in men had always been different and even though Rule was quite a beautiful specimen, he was merely a man. Violet had learned the hard way there was more to a relationship than physical beauty.
    â€œDid you tell him?” Caroline asked, sliding over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Did you say you wanted an annulment?” Both of them were still fully dressed. And both were exhausted.
    â€œI would rather have a good night’s sleep and face him in the morning.”
    â€œYes, I see what you mean.”
    A soft knock sounded at the door.
    â€œThat will be the chambermaid, here to help me undress. I didn’t know you were still awake.”
    â€œI’m glad someone is here. She can help us both.”
    And so a full-figured, brown-haired woman in her late twenties walked into the bedroom, hiding a yawn behind her hand.
    â€œMe name’s Mary. Mr. ’Atfield, sent me ta ’elp ye.”
    â€œThank you, Mary.” Violet turned, presenting her back so that Mary could unfasten the buttons. In minutes, she was rid of her clothes, dressed in a long white nightgown and neatly tucked beneath the covers. Caroline waved farewell as she departed the room, and Mary followed her down the hall to help her undress and get settled for the remainder of the night.
    The door softly closed and Violet stared up at the blue silk canopy above the bed, certain she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead, exhausted from the tension of the day, in minutes she drifted into a deep, all-consuming slumber.
    Â 
    Rule lay awake, staring into the darkness. His wife was there—Violet was in London.
    Now that he was over the shock, and the notion had begun to settle in, he felt an odd sort of relief. His decision was made. He could start living up to the promise he had made to Howard Griffin.
    And Griffin had certainly lived up to his.
    Violet was as beautiful as her father had envisioned, though not in the typical sense. She was petite, but not slim, her green eyes a little too large for her lovely heart-shaped face. Her flame-colored hair was amazing, but not in the current vogue, and there was a confidence about her that hadn’t been there when she was sixteen.
    It shone in the way she moved, the firm set of her chin, the way her eyes flashed, revealing a hint of stubbornness she couldn’t quite hide. And there was something more, a sensuality that hid beneath the surface, a deeply rooted passion, he suspected. He was drawn to it, intrigued by the thought of exploring it.
    He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had piqued his interest as Violet had, or stirred his lust in quite the same manner.
    Perhaps it was the fact that she was his wife, the woman who would bear his sons and comfort him in his December years. Perhaps it was that he had married her, but never tasted the fruits of that marriage. She’d been a child back then. She wasn’t a child anymore.
    Her image returned, Violet elegantly gowned in pale blue silk and charmingly asleep on his sofa. As he lay awake in the darkness, he imagined carrying her upstairs and undressing her, discovering, inch by inch, the treasure hidden beneath her clothes.
    His body clenched and blood began to pool in his groin. He wanted her, this woman he had married.
    He wasn’t ready to look beyond that. He was still trying to grasp the fact that he was a husband and in time might even become a father.
    First things first, he thought, and found himself smiling. Violet was there and she was his wife. He had been searching for a woman and one had magically appeared on his doorstep.
    Rule smiled into the darkness. It was only a matter of time before he could claim his husbandly rights.

Three
    V iolet came awake slowly and sat up rubbing her eyes. She glanced at the canopy above her head, at the robin’s-egg-blue walls, and tried to remember where she was.
    Then