Chapter 1
In my previous life, there was a night when my husband lit a candle himself.
"My love, you have been so weary. This will calm your spirit," he whispered, ever so tenderly.
I trusted him.
The next day, at his grandfather's birthday celebration, I lost all dignity. Before the entire court of nobles and officials, I tore off my garments and threw myself at a guard.
My family was disgraced. Our titles were stripped.
As they forced me into the ducking stool, I saw him standing among the crowd, his fingers laced with those of his widowed sister-in-law.
The candle had been tainted with a mind-altering drug. This trap was laid from the day she entered our household.
Then, I awoke. Time had coiled back upon itself to the moment before the flame touched the wick.
Smiling, I carried the candle to their own bedchamber.
When the feast day arrived, the spectacle unfolded once more. But this time, it was their turn to dance.
This time, I cared only for power. Love was of no use to me.
*****
When Casper Ashcroft walked in, he was holding that small candle.
It was exactly as I remembered.
He set it on my dressing table, his voice smooth and warm. "Isabelle, you must be exhausted.
"I went to great lengths to find this calming candle for you. It will help you sleep soundly tonight."
I looked up and caught his reflection in the mirror.
With those striking features, he was the man I'd loved for ten years, and the very one who'd delivered me to hell with his own hands.
I detected a flicker in his eyes, barely noticeable, a mix of impatience and calculation.
In my previous life, I'd been blinded by his tenderness. I'd believed every word.
I slept deeply that night. The next day was Casper's grandfather, Benjamin Ashcroft's, sixtieth birthday.
As Casper's wife, I arrived in my finest gown.
Midway through the party, a sudden, scorching heat swept through me, my thoughts melting into haze.
Before everyone's eyes, I lost all control, clawing at my clothes, lunging at the nearest guard.
The grand hall erupted. My father was so enraged that he coughed up blood on the spot.
In a single night, I shattered the Harrington family's reputation.
Casper's family used my "shameless conduct and disgrace to the household" to petition the King, stripping me of my title as Lady Ashcroft.
To protect what remained of our lineage, my father surrendered his military command. The Harrington estate was ruined.
As for me, I was locked in a storeroom. Three days later, they dragged me out and forced me into the ducking stool.
As the icy water filled my mouth and nose, I saw Casper.
He stood on the bank, with Vivian, his brother's widowed wife, nestled against his side.
He held her hand, looking down at me. His eyes were cold and sharp, like a blade dipped in poison.
"Isabelle," he said, voice devoid of warmth. "Don't hold this against me. Vivian is alone in the world. She needs protection.
"If I secure the family title, I can shield her for the rest of her days.
"Your name, your life... they were merely stepping stones on my path to inheriting the Ashcroft legacy."
So that was it. That "calming" candle was never meant to soothe. It was a mind-altering drug to unravel my mind.
The trap had been laid the very day Vivian, newly widowed, came to live at Ashcroft Manor.
I, Isabelle, was just a pawn in their twisted scheme, someone whose death meant nothing.
Hatred consumed me. If there was a second chance for me...
"Isabelle?" Casper's voice pulled me from the frigid depths of memory.
He frowned, a sliver of impatience in his tone. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the candle?"
I returned to myself. In the mirror, the fury in my gaze had not yet fully receded.
I lowered my head quickly, smoothing all emotion from my face.
When I looked up again, I wore a soft, practiced smile.
"Not at all," I replied gently. "I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have you care for me so attentively, Casper. That you would personally see to such a small comfort for me. I'm truly touched."
I rose, walked to him, and leaned into his embrace, the picture of an obedient, devoted wife.
For an instant, his body stiffened.
I knew he felt nothing for me, could barely stand my touch.
We'd been married three years, yet only cold courtesy lay between us.
If not for his reputation, he likely wouldn't step into my chambers at all.
"I'm glad you like it," he said, easing me away gently, his tone slipping back into that familiar, empty warmth.
He added, "It's late. You should rest. Tomorrow is Grandfather's birthday party. You represent the Ashcroft family. Do not forget your decorum."
He'd spoken those same words to me in my previous life.
Back then, I'd been moved by what I mistook for his trust. Now, it felt like the cruelest jest.
"Of course, dear," I replied, dipping into a slight curtsey as I saw him to the door.
He nodded, turned, and left without a backward glance.
The moment the door closed, the smile vanished from my lips.
I crossed the room to the vanity and stared at the candle still burning in its holder.
Its scent was faint, carrying just a hint of sweetness, almost elusive.
But I'd know that smell anywhere.
Lifting the bronze candle holder, I brought it close and breathed in slowly. A cold smile touched my lips.
Casper... Vivian... I was back. And it was your turn to pay.
My heart was ice, my resolve steel. You didn't really think you'd enjoy this little trap all by yourselves, did you?