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Chapter One
“Eliza, please listen to me.”
Charlotte burst into the parlor, her breath uneven and her eyes bright with worry. The modest rooms the Blackwood sisters rented were tense that morning, and everyone moved with a quiet awareness that something was amiss. The parlor was small, its faded wallpaper and narrow hearth giving it a cramped, over-warm feeling despite the weak winter light filtering through the single window.
Charlotte crossed the space in quick, urgent steps, her light blonde hair swinging behind her as her hands twisted together in front of her. Her muslin gown was slightly rumpled, as though she had dressed in haste, and a loose ribbon trailed from her sleeve. Her cheeks were flushed from running up the stairs, and she paused only long enough to draw in a breath before trying to speak.
Eliza sat beside Nanny McCourtney on the narrow loveseat. The old woman’s silver hair was pinned neatly, although several strands had escaped and curled against her worn face. Her hands, knotted with age, guided a needle through the worn fabric of one of Charlotte’s gowns. Eliza worked beside her, her own stitches neat and steady despite the tightness in her chest. Her light brown hair brushed her shoulders as she bent over the muslin, and her green eyes followed each careful movement of the needle.
Charlotte stopped pacing long enough to face them.
“I cannot marry him,” she said, her voice shaking despite her effort to sound firm. “I cannot marry the Duke of Sutherland.”
Nanny McCourtney did not look up. “You can sit down, child. You are wearing yourself out.”
Charlotte ignored her. She turned toward Eliza with wide, frightened eyes. “You know what people say about the Duke of Sutherland.”
Eliza kept her gaze on the dress in her lap, though her needle hesitated for a moment. “People say many things at gatherings. Most of it is nonsense.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Not this time. You were there at Mrs. Harcourt’s tea. You heard what they were all saying. Mrs. Harcourt said he avoids every invitation he receives. Lady Pennington claimed he barely speaks to anyone when he does appear. And Miss Avery insisted he has no interest in his title at all.”
Eliza remembered the conversation clearly. They had stood near the refreshment table, Charlotte pretending to admire the pastries while listening to the cluster of guests whispering behind their fans. The tone had been eager, as though they believed themselves to be in possession of something important. Eliza had tried to steer her sister away, but Charlotte had lingered, her expression tightening with each new detail.
Charlotte’s voice dropped. “And worst of all, they said he is cold.”
Eliza felt a tug of sympathy for her sister, a familiar ache that came whenever Charlotte’s courage faltered. She set another careful stitch, though her fingers were not as steady as she wished. “Rumors grow quickly in rooms like that. You know how people talk when they have nothing better to do.”
Charlotte wrapped her arms around herself. “They sounded certain.”
“They sounded entertained,” Eliza corrected gently. “There is a difference. You have not seen him since his father’s funeral, and you were only nine.” She lifted her gaze at last, taking in the fear on Charlotte’s face. “People change, and circumstances change. You cannot judge him by whispers.”
“That does not ease my fears.” Charlotte pressed her hands to her face. “Why must it be me? You are older. You would know how to manage such a man!”
Eliza felt her breath catch, and she set the dress aside. Charlotte’s expression softened at once, as if she regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.
Eliza straightened her back. “You know why.”
Charlotte shook her head, her voice rising with frustration. “You keep saying that, but I cannot accept it.”
“You must,” Eliza said, trying to keep her tone steady. “There is no other choice.”
Charlotte took a step closer, her hands twisting together again. “Then explain it to me. Help me understand why it must be me.”
Eliza folded her hands in her lap. “I have told you how it happened,” she said, her voice low and strained. “Remember? Lord Pennyworth courted me with such enthusiasm. He spoke of his devotion and constantly described the life he said we would build together. He discussed honor as if it were a certainty. But then, after our parents died, he ended the contract without a moment’s hesitation. He sent no letter and offered no explanation. He simply removed himself from my life.”
Charlotte’s eyes filled with sympathy. She walked over and reached for Eliza’s hand, but Eliza returned to her sewing instead. She could not bear the look on her sister’s face.
“No one wants a bride without a dowry,” Eliza said. “Not even one with a respectable name.”
Nanny McCourtney let out a quiet sigh. “Charlotte, your father arranged this for you years ago. He trusted his friend, and he believed the contract would protect you both.”
Eliza nodded. “The previous duke gave his word that he would marry you, and it still holds. This contract is the reason we have a place to live at all. If this marriage falls through, we will lose everything. We will not have the means to dress for the Season, we will lose everything around the small claim to gentility we have left, and we will not be able to pay our dear Claire.”
Eliza’s heart ached at the thought of failing to pay Claire’s wages and losing the woman who had become both her maid and her closest friend.
Charlotte’s chin trembled, and Eliza realized her sister looked very young at that moment. “I do not want to marry a stranger.”
Eliza reached for her hand this time, closing her fingers around Charlotte’s with quiet steadiness. “I know. And I would spare you if I could. But there is nothing that I can do. But please know that I am here with you, and will continue to be here with you. You are not facing this alone.”
Charlotte drew a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. “If it must be done,” she whispered, “I will try to bear it.”
A sharp knock sounded through the small parlor and cut across their conversation. Eliza stiffened, her needle pausing mid‑stitch. Charlotte’s eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth as though she had been expecting exactly this interruption. Nanny McCourtney let out a low, disapproving sound as she set her sewing aside and straightened in her chair, the three of them exchanging a brief, uneasy glance before anyone moved.
Eliza stood up, smoothing her skirt with a quick, nervous gesture. She quickly crossed the room, her steps quiet on the worn floorboards. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and forced her shoulders back before reaching for the door handle.
When she opened it, the cold draft from the corridor brushed against her face as she took in the sight of Luther Blackwood standing on the threshold. His coat fit him perfectly, and the knot at his collar was arranged with careful precision. His dark hair was styled with deliberate attention, and his sharp eyes swept over the small room with a glint of amusement as his smile revealed nothing kind.
“Cousin Eliza,” he said. “You look well.”
She stepped aside to let him enter. Charlotte drifted toward the hearth, her fingers tightening around the edge of her sleeve. Nanny McCourtney stayed in her chair, narrowing her eyes and defiantly lifting her chin.
Luther quickly crossed the room, his boots striking the worn floorboards with deliberate force. He barely glanced at Charlotte or Nanny before lowering himself into the most comfortable chair as though it belonged to him.
He settled back, one arm draped over the side of the chair, his expression already impatient. “I see no reason to pretend that we do not know why I am here,” he said. “You wrote to me about your dowries, but I am afraid you have misunderstood the situation.”
Eliza felt her chest tighten. She kept her gaze on her hands for a moment, willing them to remain still, but her fingers curled against the fabric of her skirt despite her efforts.
“Misunderstood in what way?” she asked, lifting her eyes to him. She tried to keep her voice steady. “Our father set aside those funds for us. They were protected.”
Luther gave a short, humorless laugh. “Protected? Only in theory. The estate was in far worse condition than any of you realized. Debts, obligations, arrears, and other matters your father never saw fit to explain.” He waved a hand as if brushing away something trivial. “The funds you speak of were absorbed long before his death.”
Charlotte let out a small gasp, and Nanny muttered something sharp under her breath, but Luther did not acknowledge either of them.
Eliza swallowed, forcing herself to remain composed. “That cannot be correct. Our father was meticulous. He would never have allowed—”
“He allowed it,” Luther cut in, his tone flat. “Or he had no choice. It makes little difference now.”
Eliza felt the room tilt slightly, though she kept her posture straight. “Then what are we to do?”
Luther’s expression did not soften. “That is not my concern. I came only to make the situation plain. Do not write to me again expecting assistance. There is none to give.” He looked almost bored, as if discussing a matter of no consequence.
Eliza’s stomach turned. She had spent months clinging to the belief that her father’s careful planning would shield them from exactly this moment. The idea that she might have been wrong, and that everything they depended on could be swept away with a single sentence, made her throat feel tight. She folded her hands to keep them from trembling and waited for his answer.
Luther brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve. “Again. They were used to settle his debts. The estate could not function otherwise.”
Charlotte’s breath caught. “All of it?”
“Every last pound.” Luther stood and adjusted his gloves. “I know this seems abrupt, but I must leave you now. I am leaving for Europe next week. I intend to enjoy myself, and I trust you will not trouble me with further requests.”
Eliza felt heat rise in her cheeks. “You cannot expect us to survive without those funds.”
Luther turned away as if the matter no longer interested him. “I expect nothing from you.” He crossed the room with unhurried steps and reached for the door. “Do not contact me again.”
He left without a backward glance.
The door had barely closed before Nanny McCourtney sniffed. “I should have spanked that boy more when he was young.”
Charlotte let out a startled laugh. Eliza joined her, although the sound felt thin. The laughter faded quickly, leaving behind a heavy silence. The truth settled over them with painful clarity. They had no dowries, no family support, and no future except the one tied to Charlotte’s unwanted marriage.
***
The rest of the day and evening passed in a blur, and night fell with a stillness that seemed unnatural. The quiet pressed against the walls as Eliza finished her tasks and set the last candle in its holder. She rubbed her tired eyes and thought of how Charlotte had gone upstairs earlier, claiming she needed rest after the long, difficult day. Charlotte had kissed her cheek with a weary smile and promised she would try to sleep.
Eliza stepped into the narrow corridor, the floorboards cool beneath her feet. She moved toward Charlotte’s room, her hand trailing lightly along the wall for balance.
“Charlotte,” she called, her voice low so as not to wake Nanny McCourtney. “Are you awake?”
There was no answer.
“Charlotte?” she tried again, this time a bit louder.
Her sister’s door stood slightly open, the faintest line of darkness visible through the gap. Eliza paused, her hand hovering near the frame. She pushed the door wider.
A chill swept through her as the cold, stark room came into view.
The bed was empty. The coverlet was smooth. Charlotte’s cloak was gone, and her boots were missing.
Eliza’s breath caught, and her heart pounded as she hurried to Nanny McCourtney’s room and shook her awake.
“Nanny, wake up. Charlotte is gone.”
Nanny McCourtney blinked, confusion clouding her tired eyes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for the robe hanging from a nearby hook. The fabric slipped around her thin shoulders as she tied it with quick, clumsy fingers.
“What do you mean gone?” she said, her voice rough with sleep.
Eliza stepped back to give her room to stand. “She’s gone. Her bed is empty. She is not in the house.”
Nanny straightened, her expression sharpening despite her age. “Come. We must look everywhere.”
They hurried down the corridor together, their footsteps quick and uneven. The stairs creaked beneath their weight, and the faint smell of smoke from the remnants of the fire drifted upward. Eliza stepped into the room first, her breath tight in her chest. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, her gaze caught on the small table near the window, where something pale rested against the dark wood.
She gasped as she noticed the folded note.
She hurried over and picked it up, her fingers trembling as she opened it. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her sister’s familiar handwriting.
My dearest Eliza,
I love you more than anyone in this world, and it pains me to leave you in this way. Please know that I would never do so if I believed there was any other path.
I cannot marry a man I do not know. My heart has been set elsewhere for far longer than you realized. Thomas, our stable boy, has cared for me with a quiet devotion that I have tried again and again to hide. You must have noticed how often I found reasons to visit the stables, how my cheeks warmed whenever he spoke my name. He has been patient and gentle, and I have loved him in secret for so long that keeping it hidden has become its own kind of ache.
He has asked me to go with him, and I have said yes. I feel safe with him, and I am happy.
Forgive me for the pain this will cause you. Forgive me for leaving without a proper farewell. Please do not follow. I beg you to let me go.
With all my love,
Charlotte
Eliza stared at the paper, not knowing what to say or what to do.
Nanny McCourtney touched her arm. “Eliza.”
Eliza could not answer. The contract was broken. Their future had vanished as completely as Lord Pennyworth’s promises.
She stood in the center of the small parlor, holding the note that had just undone everything.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 5 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Lust and Love in High Society", and get 5 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
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