They call him the Devil Earl-a scoundrel and accused murderer who grew up on the violent London streets. A proper young lady risks more than her reputation when consorting with the roguishly handsome Hero Fiennes Tiffin , but Lady Josephine Langford...
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They say my parents were murdered in the London streets by a gang of ruffians.
I now know that to be untrue.
They were killed by my father's brother, my uncle. And fate, in its mysterious ways, delivered him to my hand for retribution.
My memories have slowly begun to drift out of the dark shadows where I banished them for so long.
I remember standing beside my father at the pond. He was so much taller than I. To me he appeared to be a giant. Yet he always made me feel safe, and I strive now to give my own children that sense of well-being.
And the old gent. I know him now as my grandfather, and I think of him with increasing fondness. I regret that I was not as certain of my place beside him while he was alive—I regret even more that he was aware of my misgivings. Yet I know he never doubted, and I shall do all in my power to ensure that his faith in me was not misplaced.
When I was small, he would hoist me upon his lap, hold me near, and tell me tales of my ancestors. And on sunny mornings, with my small hand nestled in his larger one, we would walk over the moors, where he taught me to gather flowers to give to my mother.
My mother. I can see her so clearly now. She had the gentlest of smiles. I remember her tucking me into bed at night and whispering that I would become an exceptional earl.
My wife assures me that this is the way of it, that I have fulfilled my mother's prediction, but then she is rather biased. She loves me in spite of my flaws. Or perhaps because of them.
My friendship with Hunter remains strained. I want to believe that he was duped, but he has always been far too clever to fall for another man's ruse. So we have added yet one more thing to our relationship about which we never speak. Sometimes I think we will break beneath the weight of it, but on those occasions I have to look at my wife in order to find the strength to carry on. I am determined to be worthy of her and that requires that I be a far stronger and better man than I had ever planned to be.
We see Mabel from time to time, not as often as we'd like unfortunately. She did eventually marry, but that is her story to tell.
Dear Mabel, darling Mabel.
She shall always remain the love of my youth, the one for whom I sold my soul to the devil. But Josephine, my beloved Josephine, shall always be the center of my heart, the one who, in the final hour, would not let the devil have me.
