Sorry for the delay in updates. Due to the holidays, it may be difficult to update but I will try. I would like to thank Monica and Coppertop for prereading and beta'ing this chapter. I am thrilled to you all are enjoying the story. Anyway, without further delay I will just post the chapter.

Please let me know what you all think ... can't wait to hear from you.

Bella-

I was awake long before I heard the maid approaching. I'd barely been able to catch a wink of sleep the night before. Upon entering the Duke of Sutton's lavish townhome, my world changed by leaps and bounds within minutes. After leaving the duke in the entryway, I'd found myself led into one of the most beautifully decorated bedchambers I'd ever set my eyes on.

A large canopy bed, with the fluffiest looking bedding, sat in the center of the room. Heavy maroon drapes hung from the windows, elegantly crafted walnut furniture dotted the bedchamber, complete with a huge chest of drawers standing in one corner. The scent of lemon oil clung to the air, indicating the thoroughness of each cleaning. As beautiful as my surroundings were, the marvel of the decor was the deep copper tub that sat off in one corner, partially hidden by a dressing screen, thick plump towels neatly lining the shelves, beckoning me closer with the promise of their warmth.

I could even begin to remember the last time I was afforded a hot bath, but within an hour, I was soaking in warm water, letting the cares and worries melt from my weary bones. I'd spent the last decade dealing with my father's recklessness, wishing and praying for the day of change that was now embarking on me. How could I not embrace these offerings with open arms?

After washing away ten years' worth of deprivation from my body, I wrapped myself in the thickest, softest towels a person of the duke's tremendous wealth could acquire. A nightdress far beyond half of London's means had been draped across the bed, and after Miss Victoria brushed my hair, she'd helped me dress.

Considering the events of the night, exhaustion edged my every muscle, yet before I could even think of sinking into what was surely the most comfortable bed created, an assortment of finger foods was placed before me. While I'd snacked on apples, cheese, breads, and salted pork, the initial apprehension I'd felt when the duke entered my home started to wane.

How could I possibly continue to hate him? He'd literally taken me from a hole in the ground and delivered me to paradise.

Even while this was the case, I'd lain in that bed for the remainder of the night, staring at the canopy. The gentle hiss and pop of the fire burning hot kept drawing my attention to the flames, wondering how I came to be here in the first place.

The duke had won me as a result of a wager in a poker game.

My father had gambled me as payment in a bet.

According to the duke, I was no longer Isabella Swan, but another person entirely. Isabella Masen.

To be honest, I liked the idea of becoming another person. If given a choice, who wouldn't want to trade the dredges of society for the finer things in life? Which is why I should have been sound asleep in this bed, but alas, I'd been wide awake all night. With the prospect of starting a new life, I also needed to assume a completely new identity.

I couldn't very well tell people the Duke of Sutton had won my person as restitution for a wager in a game of cards, and instead of ravishing my innocence, which by all accounts could have been his right, he'd delivered me to heaven instead. So here I lay, creating a new, fictitious identity. Then, of course, I had to worry about whether or not it would align with his story.

What on earth would that be?

I didn't make any progress in my musings long to contemplate anything of value before Miss Victoria appeared with another borrowed garment draped across her arm. "Good morn, Miss Masen, I'm to see you up and dressed. The duke is awaiting your audience in his study. We wouldn't want to keep him waiting now, would we?"

She was awfully chipper for someone who'd been awakened in the middle of the night to cater to my needs, I thought, lifting up on my elbows. As much as I tried to keep the smile from my face, my lips stretched, unable to refute her cheerful nature. "The Duke of Sutton? I wouldn't have imagined him to be up and about so early." After all, he'd stormed my bedchamber and dragged me from my home quite late last evening.

"He has many responsibilities to handle, Miss. I believe you will be interviewing lady's maids this morning, and Lady Cullen will accompany you on a trip to the modiste. We can't very well have you running around in hand-me-downs. Also, I believe there might be a luncheon planned with Lady Hale and her daughters this afternoon." Victoria pulled the coverlet away, urging me from the featherdown mattress. "Up, up, up. Time to get the day underway."

Interview a lady's maid? Trip to the modiste? When was the last time I'd had a brand new gown? Why was the duke doing all of this? Surely, it couldn't be from the kindness of his own heart.

Based on the gossip running rampant in the streets, the man was little better than my father. He gambled frivolously, bedded any woman would have him, and drank into abandon well into the night. The only difference between my father and the duke was the amount of money they had to spend. Even while the list of his indiscretions could fill Parliament, he obviously had some noteworthy attributes. To my utter surprise, he seemed to have more integrity than I would've imagined, he was forthright, confident. He'd shown me more respect in a single night than my father had in ages.

I fell silent, contemplating the story I'd concocted, rehearsing how to introduce myself. The last thing I wanted was to slip and call myself by my given name. I was now Miss Masen, Miss Isabella Masen, from a small little farm in Yorkshire. My father requested the duke help me find a suitor. As simple as it was, that was the only story the ton might swallow.

The maid shuffling around the chamber brought me back to the present. I'd been so lost in thought, I hadn't noticed that I now wore a corset until I took a deep breath and found my lungs constricted by the tight lacings. Stepping in front of the mirror, I sighed. My nerves were beyond frazzled. I couldn't help but notice the morning dress Victoria helped me into was a few inches short, yet the material and style were beautiful and elegant nonetheless. "May I ask where you obtained this dress? It is quite lovely."

"The duke's sister, Miss. Miss Alice Cullen. I realize it doesn't fit as it should, but she is a shorter girl. We shall make it work, however, don't you worry."

Making it work, turned out to be cramming me in the tightest corset I'd ever had the misfortune to wear, the lacings were drawn so tight I could barely draw a deep, satisfying breath. As uncomfortable as the garment was, however, the quality of the underclothes left me riveted. If it weren't for the whalebone digging into my ribs, I would've been basking in the smooth silk, cocooning me like a second skin. Victoria slipped over my head a finely crafted olive color day dress and bristled about settling the fabric in place.

In a daze I studied my reflection, watching as the maid set about fixing my hair. By the time she was finished, I barely recognized myself, lightly touching the matching green combs she pushed into my hair, leaving curls draped over my shoulders and down my back. Once she finally completed this new and improved version of me, I did a slow circle, admiring the sway of the gown around my ankles. Seeing myself like this was quite foreign and I glanced at the maid standing to the side. "How do I look?"

"Most lovely, Miss Masen." Smiling softly, she placed a peach wrap around my shoulders. "The duke will hardly recognize you. It is nothing compared to how you will appear with clothes that actually fit, but this worked out very nicely. Now, we shan't keep the duke waiting another moment, Miss."

"No, we shan't," I repeated, taking the biggest calming breath I could manage in this corset. "If you will lead the way."

I was in complete rapture of the townhome, my attention swinging from the lavishly decorated walls to the elegant marble at my feet. It was beyond me how one person lived so differently than another, but I had to admit the grandeur was absolutely stunning. As beautiful as it all was, my nerves started to get the best of me as we made our way through the halls, each step carrying me closer to my unknown fate.

As fast as all this fortune happened, it could be withdrawn at the drop of a hat. The duke could very well rescind his offer, take whatever monetary wager my father had offered in that game, and toss me into the streets. I could easily find myself staring into the face of social ruin, leaving me to navigate my remaining days through an uncertain hell. Those wayward thoughts plagued me, causing apprehension to steal my newfound bliss.

By the time we came to the massive oak doors leading to the duke's study, I was swimming in perspiration, only just managing to still the urge to fan myself. Gooseflesh raced across my arms as the maid knocked, and the duke's order to enter penetrated the heavy barrier.

Suddenly my mouth was quite parched, my throat feeling as if I'd just swallowed a mouthful of sand. My breath shuddered in my lungs when I stood face to face with the man who would undoubtedly change my life forever. For better or worse, my circumstances remained to be seen, however.

He was quite handsome in the light of day. I had to admire his courage, flaunting the social norm, his hair in complete disarray, stubble lining his jaw, and some of the most perfectly bowed lips I'd ever seen. His navy gaze snapped and popped with authority, yet a hint of mischief lurked in their depths. He may try to hide his willful nature, but it was very much present for those who cared to look deeper than the surface. The Duke of Sutton was a picture to be had, his black coat and breeches clinging to this lean form, enhanced by the riding boots he currently wore.

"I trust you slept well, Miss Masen?"

My cheeks flamed, the fire burning across my skin as my gaze leapt to his. His eyes seemed to dance with amusement, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips. How embarrassing. I'd just been caught admiring his physique. Determined to save face, I lifted my chin, which only seemed to amuse him further. "As well as can be expected, considering I was dragged from bed in the middle of the night and left in a new, strange place, Your Grace."

He cleared his throat, and with a mild shrug, he tapped the top of his desk with his fingertips. "Yes, well, sometimes things can't be helped. You are well and safe here. That is all that matters. I wanted to inform you, your doting papa decided to take a trip last night, I saw him board the ship myself."

Shocked, I looked him over, stopping on his hands, noting the slight discoloration on his knuckles. "Was it a trip of his choice, or were you required to escort him aboard that ship?"

"I will admit that the endeavor required some gentle persuasion," he replied, his gaze sliding lower causing the tips of my breasts to tingle. With what appeared to be a great deal of effort, he pulled his attention away from my torso and met my stare. "That gown becomes you, Miss Masen. You should definitely consider having one made in that color this morning."

My breath caught. A compliment was the last thing I expected, and an odd sensation coursed down my spine. Clearing my throat, I moved closer to the desk, the smell of sandalwood tickling my senses. "Why are you doing all of this? Does it really matter to you what happens to me? You won me in a game, and are at liberty to take whatever actions you choose. Why am I here? What could you possibly hope to gain by assisting me?"

His lips thinned as he considered my question. After a brief pause, his gruff voice slipped through the space between us. "I am not one to take enjoyment from the misfortunes of others, nor do I condone victimizing women."

I chuckled, unable to meet his gaze as I shook my head. "That's rich, Your Grace. You don't condone victimizing women, however, your prodigious reputation contradicts that statement. There are whispers among the ton that you use women …"

His laugh cut me off. "I told you last night, those women are hardly victims. They know very well what they are getting, and thus far, there have been no complaints," he replied, stroking his chin with his forefinger and thumb. The corner of his mouth twitched as if he were really fighting the urge to smile or laugh at me again. Feeling my dander start to rise, I regarded him through my lashes. He must've lost his battle with that grin because his even white teeth made an appearance. "What would you know about such matters? You are an innocent, are you not? At least that's the impression your father gave me. So did you in the carriage last eve."

My breath caught as the questions spilled from his lips. He was a duke. He knew the etiquette in dealing with a lady of my station. Obviously, this was one of those social norms he seemed to disregard. "Do you make it a habit to talk to young women in such a fashion? No wonder the mamas are whispering warnings in their daughters' ears. You shall never find a wife if you continue to act so inappropriately."

As much as I tried to smother the embarrassment wiggling to life, it took on a life of its own, my belly fluttering with a wicked flip. A fever flashed through me at the thought. I didn't exactly know what transpired between a man and a woman, but my body seemed to pick up on his underlying meaning, which had me all the more curious. His arrogance in the matter was a whole new story, and with a glare, I pulled my gaze away from his lean form.

"Good thing I'm not in the market for a wife, and when that day comes, I will be looking for someone with more experience in the matter. I'd rather not be bothered with some snippety young miss. Now that we have that clarified between us, let's focus on what is important here." He pulled at the cravat he wore, clearing his throat as if he were having trouble swallowing. "My mission here is to get you wed as quickly as possible. I am curious to know what you might be hoping to acquire in a husband. I will know better which direction to take, and may quite possibly know someone who conforms to the criteria."

He was really serious, I realized, a little awestruck. When my father barged into my bedchamber last eve to inform me of his audacious actions, the last thing I imagined was that this man, this duke, this scoundrel would attempt to help me in any fashion. Despite his reputation, he was turning out to be rather reasonable and honorable.

My gaze traced his features, and I became a bit mesmerized by the etched angles of his cheekbones, and the bridge of his sharp nose. My pulse did a funny little leap when I came to the slope of his lips. As my blood thickened, heating parts of me I'd never been aware of, I shifted my gaze to stare at his desktop as I contemplated the answer to his question.

I spoke before I even realized the words had left my lips. "I should want someone boring. Someone who might be handsome, but definitely quiet and boring. I prefer to live my life in the country versus the city, and I definitely don't want anyone with my father's reputation. I don't want any unnecessary excitement. I'd prefer not to wonder if there is enough coal in the fire pit, but I do not require that he be lofty and rich. Just enough to get by comfortably."

When I glanced back in his direction he appeared to be in deep contemplation. Finally, he nodded his agreement as he listed the attributes I found important in a husband. "Quiet, boring, comfortable, handsome." With each word he spoke his eyebrows rose higher, wrinkles forming on his forehead. He seemed a trifle taken aback. "You don't strike me as the type of woman who wants an isolated life in the country."

"We have just met, Your Grace, and you know nothing of the type of woman I am." I didn't mean to be contradicting or difficult, yet after spending my life teetering on the edge of ruin, I hardly wanted to spend the rest of my days in a similar fashion. "I don't want there to be any doubt about where my husband spends his days or nights. I don't want to wonder where our next meal will come from. Remote and modest are exactly the type of woman I want to be, Your Grace. Would you know anyone fitting that description?"

His chin tipped forward with a nod. "I happen to know several gents fitting your list of requirements. The Wakefield ball should be a perfect chance to introduce you to several of them. You will no doubt have your choice of boring, quiet, comfortable men within the next few weeks, madam."

I should have been flying atop of the world at his optimistic response. Unfortunately, I found this wiggle of dread tightening in the pit of my stomach. This was what I should desire. This was what I wanted. It had to be. I wouldn't spend my life worried over every aspect of my life, and with a quiet, decent man, at least something would be manageable. Or at least it should be.

The duke released a doubtful snort as he gestured toward the door. "Since that is settled, we should join the rest of the household for the morning meal, and make introductions."

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