Rafe Howard had been a hard, thoughtless man before he returned to England after the war against the French. He suffers from amnesia, recalling only vague, illusive dreams. A chance meeting with the Midnight Bandit kept him from pursuing the little he gleaned from his dreams. Believing his daughter dead, Rafe returns to his home to a hostile wife who refuses to live with him and blanket animosity from his contemporaries. Rafe has lost everything, including his daughter, his wife Andria, and his memories. Soon, however, he realizes their daughter is not dead. A mysterious woman had been planted in his life with false information. But the question remains as to why anyone would cause such pain to the grieving parents.
Andria misses the powerful, special connection she had shared with her husband. But after a child died that they had loved as their own, the pain seemed to eat at their relationship. Even the birth of their daughter wasn't enough to keep them together. In the last months they had been together, suspicion and false blame replaced gentle love and tender caresses. After Rafe left and her child disappeared, Adria visited every orphanage in London desperate to find her daughter. Resigned to her grief, Andria's life becomes touched with havoc once again with Rafe's return. She'd prefer to deny her feelings for the man she married after he caused so much pain.
Andria misses the powerful, special connection she had shared with her husband. But after a child died that they had loved as their own, the pain seemed to eat at their relationship. Even the birth of their daughter wasn't enough to keep them together. In the last months they had been together, suspicion and false blame replaced gentle love and tender caresses. After Rafe left and her child disappeared, Adria visited every orphanage in London desperate to find her daughter. Resigned to her grief, Andria's life becomes touched with havoc once again with Rafe's return. She'd prefer to deny her feelings for the man she married after he caused so much pain.
