Prologue

“Ignore him,” he heard a boy say as his path took him close to the group in the orphanage yard. Much too close for comfort.

Elias ignored the mockery in the boy’s voice and, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone, continued down his path. Please, please, please do as he tells you. Just let me go by. Pay no attention to me. He passed the group of boys and entered the much quieter garden area. He preferred to be here alone, and, whenever he got the chance, he would try to stay out of sight behind a huge oak tree there.

It still puzzled Elias why those boys were so hateful to him. Yes, he was somewhat smaller than others his age, and they were a little older and taller, but he had never given them any cause to beat him the way they so often did.

They weren’t the only reason he hated it here though. Elias had been much happier—and better fed, at the slum orphanage in Cheapside, where he had spent the first three years of his life. At least he had not been mistreated by anyone there. The owner of that orphanage had been a kindly old man.

Unfortunately, the man had also been increasingly ill. When he died from a fever, Elias was three, and the children had been moved to other institutions throughout London. He had been unlucky enough to end up here in this orphanage in the area of London called Chelsea.

Elias heard a tiny meow somewhere nearby, and he began searching for the animal. If it was in distress, he might be able to help. The meows continued, and Elias followed the sound until he spotted a white kitten curled into a ball.

“I found you,” he muttered as he moved closer to it carefully so he didn’t scare it away. Elias picked the animal up and stroked its fur as he made it comfortable in his hand. “Have you been hurt? What can I do to make you feel better?”

A smile crept up his lips when the kitten purred and lowered its head to lick his hand. “I can tell you are grateful, and in dire need of attention. Let us have a drink from the pond, then.”

Elias first looked back toward the yard where the boys were, and, seeing no one there at that moment, he made his way to the pond at the end of the garden. If no one came looking for him, he would be able to sit by the pond until it was time for the night meal.

The master here would yell while one of his assistants rang the bell, and the boys would gather round in the large courtyard to queue up for their meal. They were always given bowls of soup that made Elias’s stomach hurt, so he didn’t eat it. It was better to go to bed hungry than to feel sick all night; he could sometimes fill up at breakfast anyway.

I wish I had a regular home, and wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a brother or sister to talk to?

He stopped by the pond and released the kitten, chuckling to himself as it lapped at the water to its fill. He enjoyed spending time with animals because they showed him love when humans did not.

He vividly remembered his first night here. The caretaker had shown him to a cramped space where his mat lay, and he had buried himself under the blanket they offered, shutting his eyes tight and trying to force himself to sleep even though it wasn’t bedtime yet and he was aware of the other boys staring at him for a long time.

The next morning, he got beat up for going to bed early. That earned him the nickname ‘baby’—not said with any kindness although he was only three years old at the time. It felt even worse now that he was six.

Elias was so engrossed in encouraging the kitty that he did not hear anyone creep up behind him until something hard poked him in the ribs.

“Ouch,” he yelped, and turned around.

“Baby,” one boy yelled and shoved him to the ground. He landed hard on his behind, and pain erupted through him. “Ye talking to a cat?” his attacker jeered. “Do ye not have something better to do? Maybe add more animals to the list that you talk to?”

The others laughed hard. Their bodies shook from the force of it, and their eyes gleamed with mischief.

“I do not want any trouble,” Elias said, gathering himself from the ground and backing away from them. He knew how confrontations such as this ended; he had experienced them often enough.

He raised both hands in the air and added. “Please.”

They mimicked his plea and giggled as they surrounded him. Elias’s pulse kicked up a notch, and his heart hammered in his chest.

He felt the urge to run but knew he could not outrun the four of them. These boys were one of the reasons he had been so miserable here. The other reason was the mean master; between them, they made it difficult for him to get through each day.

What did I do to deserve such dislike?

“You know it is enjoyable watching you this way,” the red-headed boy among them said. “My mother was not English, and every time my father liked, he would hit her. Why do you think that is? It is because she was weak, just as you are.”

Elias wiped his lips with the back of his right hand, and his fists formed a ball at his side. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he dropped his head, avoiding their gazes as they continued laughing among themselves.

“I don’t understand it. Why do you fancy animals? What do you hear when they look at you? Do you hear them speak?” another boy teased and landed a blow to his stomach. Elias grunted and tried to get away, but one of the boys gripped him by the collar of his shirt, and another hit him again, harder this time.

Elias broke out in a sob and crouched. As he wrapped his arms around his stomach, he noticed the cat leaping away from the scene into the fields, and his heart sank.

“I do not want any trouble; I just want to go back inside the shelter,” he said after struggling to endure the pain and catch his breath again.

A kick to his ankle sent him spiraling to the ground, and this time, he could not get up. They punched him, each of them taking turns to ram their fists into his mid-section.

Ignoring his cries, they continued, kicking him until his sides were sore and dirt from the ground covered his ragged clothes. One of them gripped a fist full of dirt and grabbed his hair to raise him up. Elias didn’t have time to think before the dirt reached his lungs and blurred his eyes.

Feeling as though he couldn’t breathe, he coughed and spat out most of it, but the taste still lingered.

Elias cried out, groaning as they laughed and kicked him harder. His ankle hurt, and the constant blows to his stomach and sides made him feel as though he were going to be sick from the pain.

When they had had their fill, they stepped away, and he struggled to get up again. Between the bruising on his face and the dirt in his eyes, he could barely see them.

“You want to fight back?”

“I doubt he can. He’s scared, too,” hist first attacker jeered, and kicked his side again.

Elias panted, trying to control the anger flooding him even though he could do nothing. He could not fight these boys, not when he didn’t have anyone on his side to defend him.

I’m all alone.

“Let’s leave him to go back to kitty talking, yeah?”

They cackled, and the shrill sound of their voices floated around him as they turned to walk away. One of them spared a moment to look back at him as he got up and leveled a blow at his face.

Elias jerked back from the impact and fell to the ground, pain erupting in his skull. He felt the warmth of his blood trickle down from his nostrils as wind left his lungs, making him dizzy for a second. Then he slid into the darkness that had only been hovering around him seconds ago.

***

The next time he opened his eyes, there was a dull throb in his temple. He tried to say something, but all that came out of his tight throat was a croak.

Elias blinked, fighting the fogginess in his brain. He tried to make out the blurry face above him or understand the sounds he heard nearby, but it was too much of a struggle. He gave up for the moment.

Somewhat later, he was able to focus on the face in his view. The angelic, heart-shaped face of a young girl with wide, blue eyes boring into his. He had never seen anything more beautiful, yet the image was so intense that it sent a shiver through him, even in his pain-dazed state.

Elias slipped away again even as he tried to hold on to the sound of her desperate voice, calling on him. He did not know what was happening, but he suspected that he was dying and this angel was waiting for him.

It was the only logical explanation for this dream he was having; or had the blow to his head been that hard?

He gained full consciousness sometime later in the middle of the night, and, when he looked around and realized he was in the infirmary, his fright doubled.

Elias hated the boys in the dormitory, but he hated the nurse more. Every boy who had to go to the infirmary returned afraid of the place.

He did not know what happened here, but boys were never the same after a stay.

He clutched the sheets covering his body and whimpered when he heard the chair scraping. Elias could only make out shadows of the nurse in the room.

“I know you are awake there,” she said. “You fainted for a long time. You are lucky that little girl came to get my help.”

His heart jumped for a second, and he swallowed the terror clamping his throat shut.

“You’ve suffered much from the torture of your beating, but it is best you return to your dormitory before the master finds out. You have many, large bruises, but they will heal.”

Elias could not understand why the woman was kind to him. “Th…. thank you,” he stammered and scrambled around until his feet touched the floor.

His ankle still ached, and his ribs and nose pained him greatly, but she was right. It was best the master did not find him in the infirmary. If they tossed him out for being sick, then he would have nowhere else to go.

“Do not let them do that to you, boy,” she said when he reached the door. Elias still could not see her because it was so dark in the chamber, and he wondered how she went around her duties properly. “Stand up for yourself, and fight to survive—if you do not, you will never make it to three and twenty in those merciless streets. Weakness is not for people such as you and me.”

He heard the chair scrape against the floor again, and Elias turned the door handle. Stilling his thumping heart, he slipped out of the infirmary and ran down the dark corridor, making his way to the dormitory. When he finally reached his corner, he folded himself under his blankets and finally released the breath caught in his throat this entire time.

That night, the nurse’s words replayed in his head—over and over again.

Weakness is not for people such as you and me.

Elias knew in his heart what the words meant, and he made a vow there and then. He would survive in this brutal world, and when he did—he would make sure no that one ever tortured children again. Ever.

Chapter One

Sixteen years later

Ida Arnold enjoyed the time she spent at the orphanage. She enjoyed spending time in the garden with its pond and huge oak tree, but, most of all, she loved spending time with the children.

The orphanage had changed much over the years, but, for her, one thing was constant. She had to always make sure the children here were as happy as they could despite lacking many things. It was why she visited so often, even though it made her father angry.

She grew up loving this place. Whenever she came, there were children like her who looked as though they needed more than just a place to sleep. Even as a little girl, Ida had known that these children needed love and attention; and they weren’t getting it. That’s why she brought treats from the house and shared with them. Their smiles always brightened her day.

Ida entered the main building through the side doors, and, as usual, a crowd of children ran towards her, each of them clamoring for a chance to hug her or feel a gentle pat on their hair. Their smiles were all she needed usually, and her mood brightened.

“How are you all?” she asked, joining in their laughter as they celebrated her visit. “Quiet down, calm down,” she urged, and untied the bonnet on her head.

“How long will you stay, Miss Ida?” a little girl named Mary asked, flashing her set of milky white teeth with two missing at the front. “Have you come to see us?”

“Will you tell us a story?” another chirped in before she could answer the first question. “You promised the last time you came to visit.”

“Please tell us a story.”

“Yes, we love your stories.”

Ida released a soft chuckle. “Alright, alright… I will tell you a short story today, but we all must gather in the infirmary to listen to it. Also…” She paused and reached into the reticule she carried. “I brought sweets.”

They met her announcement with another round of jubilation, and Ida led the crowd to the old infirmary. She knew her way around the orphanage as well as if it were her own house; sometimes she even preferred being here to being at home.

She sighed when they entered the empty room, and they settled down on the floor while she took the only chair.

The room smelled musty, as they had not used it in years. Since Ida was six, the nurse who ran the infirmary had passed away, and her father had failed to replace her.  Over the years, she grew to realize he didn’t care for the orphanage at all. The place was a source of income for him as the wealthy would make huge donations frequently, and he used them to fund his excessive gambling.

She could remember sitting in a corner of the garden every day they came here—too terrified to say anything about the way he treated the children and the staff. The one time she dared speak when she was six, the unflinching glare he tossed at her, had sealed her lips.

Even then, I feared his wrath.

Their manor was a stone’s throw from the Chelsea orphanage, and she always whined to join him on his visits there. Ida inhaled a deep breath as his harsh words floated through her mind.

Get inside, and stay there until I ask for you, Ida, else I will make sure you never come here again.

He had wanted to speak with the master. He never thought there was more to running an orphanage. Regardless of his complete lack of interest in the orphans, Ida still held compassion for the children; none of that changed over the years.

“Today, we will talk about Robin Hood,” she began. The children fixed their expectant eyes on hers and warmth filled her heart.

This is the little I can do to bring them some happiness, she thought as she launched into her story.

She hoped that the new owner was going to take better care of the children.

“I am doing this for our good, Ida,” her father had said to her on the day he signed the papers for the sale of the orphanage. “Soon you will need to wed a fine young man, and your husband will expect the traditional monetary settlement from me. I am doing this for you.”

His words should have engaged her interest in the decision, but they repulsed her instead; she knew her father too well. Henry Arnold did not care for anyone but himself. Even with his position as the Earl of Chelsea, all that concerned him were the social benefits of the title.

“I want to hear about Robin Hood,” a boy sitting near her feet said and tugged the hem of her skirts, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Ida crossed her fingers and laid her hands on her lap. “Alright then… the story goes like this. Long ago, there was a man named Robin, a noble thief, and he lived in the county of Nottinghamshire…”

She began narrating the tale exactly how she remembered it being told to her by her governess when she was little, and Ida made the same facial expressions to keep the light tone of the story. Their laughter was her satisfaction and one tale stretched into another until she had completely lost track of the time.

Ida hoped her stories brightened their day just as being with them brightened hers.

***

The last time he had been here, he hoped he would never return. This orphanage was where he learned to be the man he was today, but the very thought of the place spiked anger through him.

Elias walked through each corridor of the old building, and every step reminded him of the horror he had lived here. How much he had hated that life, and how desperate he had been to get away.

He had gotten out, thrived, and climbed the social ladder; now, he gloried in his success. He had come so far and achieved so much, due solely to his hard work.

Maybe he owed one achievement to the former owner of the orphanage, the Earl of Chelsea. Henry Arnold’s gambling problem had created an opportunity for Elias to buy this building, and now he owned the place that had caused him so much pain as a child. He could finally get rid of that weak bit of his past by tearing the place apart and rebuilding it as it should have been in the first place. With love.

When he first saw the newspaper post announcing that the orphaned children’s shelter in Chelsea was for sale, he decided to ignore it. He had no desire to be back in this place of torment, but, in the end, he could not rid the thought of what might happen to the children if someone as selfish as the Earl of Chelsea purchased the orphanage.

He decided he could change and improve everything about this place to make sure the children here had a different experience than the one he had had when he lived here years ago.

Otherwise, no one would care for them or this place. It would become another of England’s institutional failures.

He walked past the former nursery, and, as he rounded the corner to check on the renovation in the dormitories, the sound of childish chatter and giggles caught his attention.

This part of the building was closed off from the others because they were yet to start any repairs here, so he had not expected to see or hear anyone.

Interested, Elias took a quick detour, and walked towards the room where the voices were coming from. Without hesitation, he turned the knob, and his steps faltered when he spotted a woman sitting in front of the children, a big smile on her heart-shaped face as she spoke to them.

She turned when the door creaked, and her eyes met his. His breath stopped in his throat, and every other thing around him stilled for a second.

She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and they stared right through him, causing heat to rush to the back of his neck. Her eyes flickered over his for a minute, and her brows formed an arch.

Elias stood at the door and took in her looks. In addition to her captivating eyes, he immediately noticed her freckles and the pointed shape of her nose; how pretty! She blinked, and her full lashes bounced over her eyes twice, catching his attention. Elias knew he had never seen a more beautiful woman.

Her cheeks turned a rosy pink color; it most likely embarrassed her that he stared for so long, but he did not care. He allowed his gaze to move over the rest of her.

Her soft blonde curls framed the sides of her face. He imagined them up on top of her head, so he could see the creamy skin of her neck properly. She eyed him cautiously, and he noticed the pure innocence reflected in her eyes. There was no flirtation there; just simple curiosity. It stirred something in Elias, and he couldn’t bring himself to draw his eyes away.

Who is this woman?

Elias pulled himself out of his thoughts and stepped into the room. Silence filled the air, and he felt the curious eyes of the children land on him as he walked towards the lady.

She bolted out of the chair, her fingers stilled linked in front of her, but she held onto his gaze. There was something about the way she looked at him—something about the way her blue eyes pierced him that made his pulse race in a way he had never experienced before.

“Do you work here? Or are you visiting?” Elias asked in a light, teasing voice as he raked his gaze over the full length of her body this time. She had a small frame and was shorter even than his medium height. The dress she wore hugged her curves perfectly, its sash tied in a bow so beautiful, just like the rest of her.

His eyes dropped to her linked fingers, and one corner of his lips quirked up when he saw her fiddle with the fabric of her dress.

She is shy; nervous even.

The dress was a creamy shade with green embroidery that gave it a unique look, and he noticed the low neckline exposing more silky skin at her cleavage.

When she didn’t reply to his last question, he decided that she wasn’t a member of the staff. Besides, she certainly wasn’t dressed as an employee. “I did not know the children had any visitors today.” He stopped in front of her and caught a whiff of her scent. His heart began a slow dance when it reached his nostrils, but he did not allow his eyes to drift over her again.

Floral… perhaps lilacs mixed with lavender. He loved it, just as he loved the tendrils of her hair falling to the edges of her face. Her lips parted slightly as though she wanted to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she licked her lower lip.

The sight sent heat through him, and that startled Elias. He had met a lot of women over the years, but none of them had had this instant effect on him. Her eyes left his for a second to look at the children, and he noticed the softness in her gaze.

He looked at her again; this time his eyes narrowed. “I asked a question. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“You do not have to worry about me. I…I was just leaving,” she stammered instead of responding to his question. Her voice was a breathy sound, and it washed over him instantly, causing a slow hum in his blood.

Even her voice is beautiful. 

He watched her grab her reticule from the chair and wave at the children before dashing for the door. As she breezed past him, he caught another whiff of her scent and released a soft, unexpected chuckle.

The children scurried out after her, and he stared after them in shock, wondering what they had been doing before he came in. The room had emptied now, and he looked around.

There was something familiar about the woman. Maybe it was the shyness he sensed or the way she stared right into him in spite of it.

I feel as though I have seen those eyes somewhere, but I can’t place it. Elias didn’t think they had ever met, but he couldn’t shake away the warmth of familiarity that rushed through him.

A tingle raced up his spine, and he inhaled sharply. The air that filled his nostrils carried her scent; it still lingered in the room, even though she had left.

Elias turned to walk to the door, but he gave the room one last look before he did. His eyes landed on a book lying under the chair the lady had occupied, and, with quick steps, he went to retrieve it. As soon as it was in his hand, he saw it was a diary. Elias never kept such a thing personally, because he had never seen any need for it.

His time was occupied with work, activities at the docks, reports from the managers of his shops, and dinners or meetings with wealthy gentlemen of the ton who needed to do business with him.

This probably belongs to her. He looked at the diary, contemplating whether he should keep it or chase after her to return it.

He flipped through the pages until one caught his attention, and his brows arched when he read the first few lines out loud.

1. Fall in love with a gentleman
2. Explore England with the man I love

Elias scoffed and turned to the next page, shaking his head at the gullible but enticing ideas she had scribbled down.

He completely forgot about his walk around the orphanage, and, instead, he dropped into the chair, crossed his legs in front of him, and began looking through the diary more slowly.

Whoever this woman was, she believed in that fairy tale called love.

He knew it was wrong to read through someone else’s private thoughts, but he couldn’t help the curiosity tunneling through him. Whoever this woman was, she certainly had a vivid imagination.

Elias enjoyed reading through her notes, and he admired her elegant handwriting. What called him the most was the title of the list she had made in her diary.

Exciting things I would like to do with a man…

Chapter Two

Ida realized she had read the same line at least twice when one particular sentence began to look very familiar. She closed the book with a sigh, lay on her bed, and closed her eyes for a second, trying to ward off thoughts of the stranger she had met earlier. He had very familiar eyes, and the smile on his lips hinted at danger.

He is the most handsome man I have seen in the whole of London. Even now in her room, it felt as though his dark eyes were still pinned on hers, and she couldn’t break free from the breathlessness she felt when he looked at her. The square shape of his face and hair as dark as night gave him unforgettable looks, and that image was ingrained in her memory already.

If she was being honest, he was definitely a distraction. With a sigh, she flopped over to her side on her bed, and buried her face in her pillows. His face popped into her mind again, the dark brooding eyes that bore into hers when she saw him standing there by the doorway.

Too engrossed in her story that afternoon, she hadn’t noticed the intruder until he walked into the room and asked her a question in a deep baritone that immediately sent a shiver down her spine.

There is something about the way he looked at me…. Who could that man be?

Ida groaned, and this time she sat upright, tossing the sheets covering her body aside. She slipped out of bed and walked to the windows to stare out into the starry night.

Her father’s loud drunken voice reached her bedchamber from the drawing room, where he spent so much time with his friends. At this ungodly hour, they were drinking over a chess game, and she hated nights such as this the most because she could get no sleep.

Why does he have to do this every night? Why do I have to endure this?

Ida hated her life most of the time; she wished there was a way things would turn out differently for her. With a father who had the reputation of a rake, it was impossible to go through each day without having to read of his latest scandal in the morning post.

The ton in London thrived on tearing each other down in their gossip, and her father was frequently discussed. She was used to see mention of him in the papers or see the looks in her direction from other ladies of the ton who whispered behind their fans when she passed by in her coach.

Ida had eventually learned to keep to herself. Her only friend was Elizabeth, her lady’s maid, and she was content with that. There was a time when she had wished for more, but Ida had grown to realize that she found comfort in her books and her time in the orphanage. She really didn’t need any more than that.

He can’t ever get over his gambling problem, she shook her head.

With a sigh, Ida returned to bed, and picked up the book she was reading. This time, she channeled her attention to the words on the paper. Her eyes skimmed each line, and she got lost in the world created by the story again.

She stumbled on a good line and instinctively reached for the diary on her nightstand. Whenever she read, she liked to note down her favorite lines, or words she did not know the meaning of.

It helped her ponder them later when she did a little daydreaming. Ida dropped the book and glanced at her nightstand when her hands did not touch the book.

“I always keep it here,” she muttered, a frown crossing her forehead. She rose from her bed again and went to check the reticule hanging on her chair.

My diary is missing…

The thought came with a mix of panic and fear, causing her pulse to skyrocket. In that diary, she wrote her most private thoughts…. In that diary, she kept things that no one could ever see!

How could I be so careless?

She willed her mind to stop racing and sucked in a deep breath. Okay Ida, relax and think. How did I misplace it? I am usually very careful with my diary.

She recalled taking the diary to the orphanage earlier that day because she noted down stories for the children in it. It occurred to her then that she must have left it in the room where she had been telling stories to the children.

Ida’s panic subsided a bit because she was fairly confident of where she had lost the diary, but the other thing that plagued her mind was the possibility of someone seeing what she had written in it.

Her mind wandered to the dark-haired brooding stranger again, and she shuddered.

A rumble of laughter reached from downstairs again, and Ida’s irritation at her father’s activities grew. She returned to her reading, hoping it would occupy her mind for the rest of the night, and, in the morning, she would hurry to the orphanage to retrieve her diary.

First thing in the morning, she promised herself as she settled in with the book again and continued reading until she fell asleep minutes later. She hoped it had not gotten into the hands of someone who would read her inner thoughts and make it public.

***

3. Kiss him until I’m breathless.
4. Look into his eyes and feel my heart thump in my chest.
5. Steal touches in a grand public event

This woman’s words intrigued him, and, with each page of the diary Elias read, he wanted to meet her in person again.

He pictured her, staring at him with those wide, innocent eyes and rushing out of the room as if she were making an escape. There aren’t many shy women in London that possess such innocent and yet wild beauty, Elias concluded.

From her writing, he could guess the woman she was. Inexperienced was the word to describe her, but, then again, if one read her inner thoughts without first meeting her in person, they would think she was a vixen.

He snapped out of his thoughts and closed the diary when a soft knock on his study door alerted him.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and the head nurse of the orphanage walked in.

“You sent for me, sir,” she said and curtsied.

“Yes, I did, Mrs. Agnes. I’d like to know… who is the young lady who visited the orphanage today? She gathered the children in the old infirmary and told them stories…” Elias paused, and the woman waited for him to continue. “It’s just, I did not know the children had any guests who would care to read them stories.”

“She is Ida Arnold, sir. She is one of the very few people who visit the children frequently.”

“Ida Arnold?” he repeated. “As in Arnold, Earl of Chelsea?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Agnes replied with another curtsey. Elias finally realized why the young woman had looked so familiar. He had probably seen her in the past when he lived here.

“The daughter of the Earl of Chelsea,” he muttered under his breath, his lips curving into a mischievous grin as one line from the list in her diary played in his head.

6. Sneak out of a ball to meet my love, watch the starry night together, and lean into him to enjoy the warmth of his arms.

A light chuckle escaped his lips, and he swung his chair around, marveling at this twist of fate. The earl’s daughter often visited his orphanage, and, now, he had a book containing her thoughts in his possession.

An image of the lady entered his mind, and he indulged in it. The woman he had met that day possessed a look of innocence—pure enough to confuse anyone before they heard her father’s status.

Her wide eyes had called to him, and he hadn’t been able to look away from her.

“You may leave,” he said without looking at the head nurse. His mind was still focused on the image of the woman in his head.

The nurse curtsied before leaving his study, and Elias picked up the diary again with a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

If you liked the preview, you can get the whole book here

If you want to be always up to date with my new releases, click and...
Follow me on BookBub