Hi,

I have to say I am just stunned by the response this story has received. I never thought anyone would be interested in it, but I'm so glad I was wrong. Thank you all for giving it a chance, and giving me a chance to tell it.

A lot of the reviews asked what period this is taking place in and I will answer that now. Once again, thanks for reading and telling me what you think.

Chapter 1

-Bella-

London, England

1810

The fire was burning low in the pit, a chill lingering in my bedchamber when I heard the crunch of gravel from outside. The unmistakable clop of iron shoes striking the cobblestone rang through the night, penetrating the thin walls of the townhouse.

Beyond curious as to who could be calling at such an hour, I climbed from my bed and headed to the window, my eyes rolling when they locked on my father's silhouette.

When would my father ever learn? He was the ninth son of the Earl of Cambridge and even though he'd never have a chance to inherit the title, one would think he'd have more integrity or respect for his position in this life.

That couldn't be further from the case, however, as he insisted on this belligerent and narcissistic lifestyle. He insisted on blowing money we couldn't afford to lose on drink, women, and gambling. I always hoped things would be different as the days passed, yet I was further disappointed by his excessive recklessness.

Someday soon, I would go to court in hopes of finding a proper gentleman to marry. Without a dowry that was going to be virtually impossible as it was, I didn't need any further complications. The way my father galavanted around the ton was asking for a scandal, and any gentlemen worth his salt would be aware of my father's endeavors well before asking for my hand.

Ever since my mother died, he'd been on a downward spiral. I wanted to empathize, but he was making it increasingly difficult. I missed my mother too, but I wasn't afforded the luxury of continuing to grieve while my future rested in the balance.

As my mother's face, withering into nothingness, sprang to mind, I shook the image away. I didn't want to think of her in such a fashion, all sick and gray, wasting away in her bed with nothing I could do for her. Just the memory had tears stinging the back of my eyes, and with a determined sniff, I willed them away. A movement from the figure below pulled me back to the present, causing me to sigh helplessly.

What was I going to do about Father?

He all but fell from Windy, the nag that posed as his noble steed. I had to stifle the laugh that tickled my throat, although nothing about it was remotely humorous. That poor horse had seen better days, many of them, and this one wasn't close to one of those.

Street lamps lined the road just on the other side of the fence. Our estate wasn't much but we were better off than most. And while we were living out of the bottom of the coffers, our situation could be a lot worse thanks to Father's reckless nature.

Perhaps when I found a suitor, our devastation would end. Until that moment came, one could only make the most of the situation.

My annoyance climbed to staggering heights as I watched him stumble toward the front stoop, nearly losing his fight with gravity to remain upright half a dozen times on his way toward the stairs.

Very aware of our fragile position in polite society, I glanced toward the darkened street, praying no one noticed my father's inebriated state. In the morning, I would bend his ear over his careless behavior.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I turned away from the window, shivering as a gust of cool air hit my feet. After another glance at the fire pit, I sent a silent prayer for the blessing of more coals before crossing the shag carpet to my bed.

I had just climbed inside and burrowed beneath the covers in an attempt to gather warmth, burying my nose against the quilt, when the sound of footsteps approaching sounded in the hallway.

An odd sensation, perhaps a premonition of sorts, I would decide in the future, slid down my spine and my stomach suddenly twisted into nauseating knots. An unease I couldn't begin to explain overtook me, and I watched in growing worry as the knob turned.

Father never came to my room. Ever. We had one maid, and she was always the one to summon me.

Why was he up here?

I didn't have to contemplate it long as I watched in partial mortification as the door creaked open. A thin line of light slipped into the open space, my breath catching and holding as I waited with growing anticipation.

Clearing my throat, I sat upright in bed. "Father, what are you doing up here? You were out late again. How much money did you manage to spend? I have told you countless times, we don't have the extra …"

Something in his eyes had me going utterly still, frozen to the bed beneath me. He looked stressed and scared. Were those tears in his eyes? "W-what happened? What did you do?"

"There isn't much time to explain. I need you to …" He broke off, breathing a heavy sigh, his gaze now avoidant, looking at everything but me. "I-I messed up, Bell. I-I lost … I need you to get up and pack. Right now … there isn't any time to explain. Just do as I say."

I had to be dreaming. What was he rattling on about? What did he mean, get up and pack? What had he lost?

"What did you lose? We don't have any more money! Remember, you welshed it all away. I have told you … tell me, what did you lose?" I could barely breathe the clawing fingers of dread threatening to squeeze the air from my throat. Shuddering, I held the covers tighter around me before I managed to whisper, "What did you lose, Papa?"

He still refused to meet my gaze and I was starting to draw my own conclusions, and none of them were good. A fire burned in my throat and this rolling sickness seized me. Any moment I was going to vomit. "Tell me! Tell me right now! What did you lose? The house? Are we finally in so much debt we'll be cast into the streets?"

He stood there fidgeting, the flame on the candle flickering, threatening to go out. Hesitantly, I scooted to the edge of the bed when he continued to stare at his feet. My voice sounded strange to my ears when I spoke with demand twinging my words. "Father, what did you lose?"

"I lost—I lost you!" His eyes closed as he spoke, and he swallowed vigorously as if he were attempting to keep from being sick.

"You …" For the first time in my whole life, I was speechless. Speechless and utterly numb. Dumbly, I stood there at a complete loss for words. My throat closed, refusing to ask the million questions plaguing me. Then rapidly the shock holding me in its death grip relinquished its hold. "Y-you lost me? What does that even mean? What exactly are you saying?"

"The Duke of Sutton will be here to collect you and your things. I-I'm so sorry. I don't understand it." He took a long shallow breath, looking as if he might just faint. "I had that game in the bag, Bell. I swear. The odds were in my favor and I-I lost."

"The Duke of Sutton? He's coming to collect me? Why? Why would he want me?" I was beyond perplexed. I'd heard rumors about the duke, he was reckless and as frivolous as my father. He was the talk of the entire ton. How could I escape the mention of his name, whispered in all the dark corners of society? Apparently, he loved the ladies, and they loved him right back. Which led me to wonder what the hell he wanted with me. "W-why would he want me? W-what good could I be to a duke?"

I suddenly wished the floor would open up and swallow me. How was I supposed to face someone as pristine and important as a duke? And what did it say of the man if he were wanting to purchase a woman through a poker game? He had to be just as scandalous as my father.

"Father, I will be ruined. If I step out of this townhouse and anywhere near the man, my entire reputation will be in shreds. There won't be any coming back from that." I turned in a slow circle to look around my bedchamber as lost now as I was upon hearing the news. "I-I will never be able to marry."

There was a lead ball lodge in the pit of my stomach. The chill in the air increased to the point of making me shiver. Taking a deep breath, I faced my father with renewed determination.

I wouldn't let him do this. I could not let him do this. "You're insane. You both are to even make such a suggestion. You must have lost your mind! I'm not going! I'm not letting you do this to me."

"You will get dressed at once and prepare! He is to be here in an hour. Don't make this harder than it has to be." He stumbled across my bedchamber and hovered close to the window, pulling the curtain aside, peering down into the drive. "Time is dwindling, Bella. I can't undo what is done. I just have to wish you well."

I ground my teeth as fury overwhelmed me. "Wish me well? You are going to wish me well? You are throwing me to the wolves and stealing any chance of a future I might have, and you are going to wish me well? Mother would be so appalled. How could you even suggest such a notion?"

There was a hard glint in his eyes when he turned away from the window. "You will get ready this instant, and do whatever the duke demands. I can't undo my actions, but I can fulfill my obligations. You will see to his every need." He took a deep ragged breath as he looked me over with one sweep of his gaze. "You look pitiful. Get some clothes on."

I lifted my chin as high as I could manage. Without hesitation, I met his stare, even when my first instinct was to find the first hole I could and climb inside it. "I don't see the point. I'm not going! You both can go to the bloody devil, and burn. I'm not going anywhere."

Determined to stand my ground, I folded my arms over my chest, every muscle turning rigid. "I won't go. There's nothing you can do to make me."

Just as the words left my lips the crunch of gravel penetrated the silence. Goosebumps raced down my arms and overtook my entire being. In a flurry of action, I whirled around with the intent of barring the door, yet hard fingers encircled my upper arm, yanking me backward. "Let me go, loathsome wretch. I cannot believe you would do such a thing. Let me go, please."

The thumping of a hard fist landing on the door had me leaping from my skin, fear momentarily stealing the fight from me. The sting of tears pricked my eyes as I pivoted to face my father. Regret shone in his eyes, but I didn't care. I couldn't care. "You are a beast. You have sold me to the wolves with your impetuous gambling. I hate you! Let me go!"

Yanking against his grip, I fought fruitlessly, only to have his arms lock around my waist, preventing my escape. With a cry I scratched anywhere I could reach, yet the slam of a door, followed by several feet pounding up the stairs had me going still. As the footsteps proceeded down the hallway, I let loose like a wildcat, hot tears cascading down my cheeks as I stared at the door to my bedchamber, waiting for the end of my future to burst into the room.

My lungs refused to cooperate when I tried to draw a lungful of air. I kicked and hit anywhere my arms and legs could reach, yet it was all in vain as the door crashed open, all but slamming into the wall.

Two men, the size of small elephants, appeared in the hallway, an elegantly clad gentleman standing a mere foot behind them. His jaw worked as his gaze roved first to me, and then, my father. His lips drew tight, and the distinguished tip of his chin lifted several notches, his nostrils flaring.

He looked enraged. He had the audacity to look infuriated and I wasn't certain where his anger was directed. Finally, his navy gaze rose and locked on mine. "I trust you are ready to depart. I gave specific instructions for you to be prepared upon my arrival."

An indignant grunt left my lips as my father's hold went lax. Mustering as much courage as I could, I stamped my foot in his direction. "I'm not going. You are wasting your time, Your Grace, as I plan to stay right here."

The corner of his lips lifted with an air of amusement. With a tap to the first animal's shoulder, he stepped through the gap the men created, and I watched in horror as his foot settled over the threshold. As mortified as I was that he had the audacity to enter my bedchamber, I squared my shoulders, refusing to show the fear taking me over.

Arrogantly, he looked me up and down, and he leaned in close as if he cared about being overheard. "You act as though you have a choice. Your adoring father squandered your choices, my dear."

As he looked down his elegant straight nose at my nightdress, I just wanted to disappear. Not only was the material thin and worn, but there were a few holes beneath my armpits. Of all the ways to meet a duke, this had to be the least admiral one to date. Despite my desire to remain a lady, if there was ever a time to stand up for myself, I believed this to be the best.

At this precise moment, and given the circumstances of our meeting, I hardly believed society's rules mattered. Right then, I didn't care what he was, or how important his title was. A tear trickled down my cheek as anger welled beneath my breast. Through clenched teeth, I glared back at him. "You might be a duke, and your title might speak of your nobility, but you are nothing more than an animal. Who goes about winning women in a poker game, Your Grace? Did you run out of willing victims?"

His eyebrows rose to his hairline and an unsuppressed chuckle filled the space around us. "I would hardly call them victims. They are most eager to do whatever I want." His hand lifted and he twirled his finger in the air. "Either you can come willingly or I can have my man carrying you over his shoulder. I hardly think you would want half the ton witnessing you kicking and screaming into my carriage."

"If you gave a fig for my reputation, you would not be present in my bedchamber, Your Grace. If you were half the gentlemen a man of your station was supposed to be, you would overlook such a ridiculous notion as to take me as a reward for some silly game." His lashes fluttered and his gaze clouded slightly as he regarded me. As quickly as the haze drifted, dulling his weary expression, it seemed to clear.

His lips drew back almost in a snarl as he glanced toward my father. Without worrying about the offense to his comment, he returned his hard stare to mine. His voice lowered to a whisper, a very threatening whisper. "If I was a lesser gentleman, I would already have you flat on your back. Now, either get your things together, or I shall take you as you are."

He tsked beneath his breath when I didn't immediately answer. "I will not dally another moment. Considering the state of that night dress, I imagine your other garments are in just as bad of condition. Will you walk on your own? Or will my men be carrying you down?"

I cast a quick look toward my father, and all the bloke did was turn his face away, staring at the floor. He didn't even pretend to speak on my behalf or offer any attempt at defense. The bitter taste of betrayal tingled on my tongue, and adamantly, I shook my head in denial.

Tears I could no longer keep at bay trickled heedlessly down my cheeks, dripping freely to the nightdress below His Grace's approval. "From this moment on, you are not my father. If I shall ever see your face again, I will stick a dagger straight into your heart." A very small amount of satisfaction flared to life when my father flinched in response, still unwilling to meet my gaze. "You are such a low-life coward."

Meeting the duke's gaze, I shook my head, my muscles stiffening as I prepared for the fight of my life. "You do what you have to, Your Grace, but I'm not willingly leaving this house with you."

"I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this," he stated with a shake of his head. "Gentlemen, please carry the woman down to the carriage."

A squeak escaped my throat when the two men in question barreled in my direction. With as much fight as I could muster, I struggled as they took hold of my arms, and pulled me forward. Lashing out I kicked for all I was worth, a small fraction of satisfaction filling me when one grunted in pain.

When I neatly evaded their reaching hands, the duke cursed as he pushed them aside. Without breaking a sweat, he lifted me from my feet and tossed me over his shoulder. With a firm arm locked around my thighs, he pivoted on his heel and headed for the open door, saying, "If you kick me, I will light your fanny right up. Keep testing my patience."

I pummeled his back with all the frustration within me. Crying out when his grip tightened as we came to the staircase. "Let me go, ingrate. Animal, prig, scandalous leech. Put me down."

"If I put you down, are you going to walk?" He sounded winded, his hold never relenting as he hovered on that first step.

"Yes. Villain, mongrel, monster!" What choice did I really have? If I carried on and threw the biggest fit, screaming and punching as I was then, everyone in London would know my fate by morning.

When he set me on my feet, with as much dignity as I could muster, I lifted my head and squared my shoulders, feeling as if the breath was being choked from my body. Breathing short, choppy breaths, I faced off with him as air returned to my lungs. "You, Your Grace, are as bad as my father to put me in such a position."

His gaze narrowed on me, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching, his whole body stiffening. "Walk!"

I cursed him with every step I took, my arms folding over the flimsy material of my nightgown, humiliation causing my cheeks to flame. I needed to fan them, the fire was so intense, yet I refused to appear weak. If this man thought to have me tonight, I wouldn't be making it easy for him. Collecting my cloak near the door, I wrapped the heavy wool around my shoulders and slipped the hood over my head. I burrowed deep into the fabric as the front door was pulled open by his lackey and I numbly stepped over the threshold.

Praying for a calm I didn't feel, I hesitated on the stoop, staring at the carriage looming in the shadows. I was prepared to stand there for the rest of the night, yet a nudge against my lower back and the duke's clipped tone urged me forward.

"Keep walking!"

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think