Kat Martin - The Handmaidens Necklace

---

C an a necklace hold the power
to right a love gone wrong?
Five years ago Rafael, Duke of Sheffield, believed he was betrayed by the woman he loved and the pain haunts him still. When Rafe discovers that he was cruelly tricked, and that Danielle Duval was never unfaithful, he's desperate to win her back. But Dani is already on a steamer bound for America to marry another man. Impulsively, Rafe follows her and, trapping her in a compromising situation, quickly makes her his wife.
Promising her that with time he can prove his love and win her trust, Rafe presents her with a stunning necklace rumored to hold great power.

She was here!
Rafael handed his betrothed, Lady Mary Rose Montague, back into the care of her parents and turned away.
"They will be playing a waltz a bit later," said Mary Rose. "Perhaps you would.
But Rafe was already walking away, his mind on another woman far different from the one he intended to wed.
But Rafe was already walking away, his mind on another woman far different from the one he intended to wed.

Danielle Duval. Just the sound of her name, whispering through the back of his mind, was enough to make his temper shoot to dangerous levels. It had taken him years to learn to control his volatile nature, to bring his emotions under control. These days he rarely shouted, rarely allowed his passionate nature to get out of hand.
Not since Danielle.
Loving Danielle Duval had taught him a valuable lesson.

Love was a disease that could unman a man. It had nearly destroyed Rafael. He glanced toward the rear of the ballroom, catching a flash of Danielle's bright hair. He could scarcely believe it. How dare she show her face after what she had done? He felt a rush of angry heat to the back of his neck. He itched to stride across the floor, grab her shoulders and shake her until her pretty white teeth rattled.

It was a feeling he hadn't known since the day he'd last seen herfive years ago. copyright 2006
One
London, England June 1806
Tis a shame, is what it is." Cornelia Thorne, Lady Brookfield, stood near the center of the ballroom. "Just look at him out there dancing...so completely bored. Him a duke and her such a mousy little thing, completely terrified of the man, I'll wager."
The Duchess of Sheffield, Miriam Saunders, raised her quizzing glass to peer at her son, Rafael, Duke of Sheffield. Miriam and her sister, Cornelia, were attending a charity ball along with Rafael and his betrothed, Lady Mary Rose Montague.
"The girl is actually quite lovely," the duchess defended, "so blond and petite, just a bit shy, is all." Unlike her son, the duke, who was tall and dark, with eyes even bluer than her own.
"The girl is actually quite lovely," the duchess defended, "so blond and petite, just a bit shy, is all." Unlike her son, the duke, who was tall and dark, with eyes even bluer than her own.

And there was Rafe, himself, a strong, incredibly
8 Kat Martin
handsome man whose powerful presence seemed to overshadow the young woman he had chosen to be his future bride.
"I'll grant, she is pretty," Cornelia said, "in a rather whitewashed sort of way. Still, it seems a shame."
"Rafael is finally doing his duty. It is past time he took a wife. Perhaps they don't suit as well as I would have liked, but the girl is young and strong, and she will bear him healthy sons." And yet, as her sister had said, Miriam couldn't miss the bland, bored expression on her son's very handsome face. "Do you not remember the way he was before? So full of fire, so passionate about life in those days. "Do you not remember the way he was before? So full of fire, so passionate about life in those days.

Now...well, he is always so restrained. I do miss the vibrant young man he used to be."
"People change, Cornelia. Rafe learned the hard way where those sorts of emotions can lead."
Cornelia grunted. "You're talking about The Scandal." Thin and gray-haired, she was older than the duchess by nearly six years. "How could anyone forget Danielle...? Now, there was a woman Rafael's equal.
The dance ended and the couples began dispersing from the dance floor. "Hush," Miriam warned. "Rafe and Mary Rose are coming this way." The girl was nearly a foot shorter than the duke, blond, blue-eyed and fair, the perfect picture of English femininity. "Rafe and Mary Rose are coming this way." The girl was nearly a foot shorter than the duke, blond, blue-eyed and fair, the perfect picture of English femininity.

She was also the daughter of
The Handmaiden's Necklace 9
an earl, with a very sizable dowry. Miriam prayed her son would find at least some measure of happiness with the girl.
Rafe made a polite, formal bow. "Good evening, Mother. Aunt Cornelia."
Miriam smiled. "You're both looking quite splendid tonight." And they did.

Rafe in dove-gray breeches and a navy-blue tailcoat that set off the blue of his eyes, and Mary Rose in a gown of white silk trimmed with delicate pink roses.
"Thank you, Your Grace," said the girl, with a very proper curtsy.
Miriam frowned. Was her hand trembling where it rested on the sleeve of Rafe's coat? Dear God, the child would soon be a duchess. Miriam fervently prayed she would manage to infuse a bit of backbone into her spine as the months went along.
"Later, perhaps."
"Aunt Cornelia?"
But Cornelia was staring at the doorway, her mind a thousand miles away.
"Later, perhaps."
"Aunt Cornelia?"
But Cornelia was staring at the doorway, her mind a thousand miles away.

Miriam followed her gaze, as did Rafael and his betrothed.
'"Speak of the devil..." Cornelia whispered beneath her breath.
Miriam's eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened, turned wildly erratic. She recognized the short, plump little woman entering the ballroom, Flora Chamberlain, Dowager Countess Wycombe. And she also knew the tall, slender, red-haired woman who was the countess's niece.
10 Kat Martin
Miriam's mouth thinned into a hostile line.

A few feet away, her son's expression shifted from incredulity to anger, deepening the slight cleft in his chin.
Cornelia continued to stare. "Of all the nerve!"
A muscle tightened along Rafe's jaw, but he didn't say a word.
"Who is that?" asked Mary Rose.
Rafe ignored her. His gaze remained locked on the elegant creature entering the ballroom behind her aunt.

Danielle Duval had been living in the country for the past five years. After The Scandal, she had been banished, shamed into leaving the city. Since her father was dead and her mother had disowned her for what she had done, she had moved in with her aunt, Flora Duval Chamberlain. Until tonight, she had remained in the country.
The duchess couldn't imagine what Danielle was doing back in London, or what had possessed her to come to a place where she was so obviously not welcome. "What is it?"
Rafe's gaze never wavered. "What is it?"
Rafe's gaze never wavered.

Something flashed in his in tense blue eyes, something hot and wild Miriam hadn't seen there in nearly five years. Anger tightened the skin across his cheekbones. He took a steadying breath and fought to bring himself under control.
Looking down at Mary Rose, he managed a smile. "Nothing to be concerned about, sweeting. "I believe they are playing a rondele. "I believe they are playing a rondele.

Shall we dance?"
He led her away without waiting for an answer. Miriam
The Handmaiden's Necklace 11
imagined it would always be that wayRafe commanding, Mary Rose obeying like a good little girl.
The duchess turned back to Danielle Duval, watched her moving along behind her rotund, silver-haired aunt, head held high, ignoring the whispers, the stares, walking with the grace of the duchess she should have been.
Thank heaven the girl's true nature had come out before Rafael had married her.