Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Another jolt of shock hit me.
This was his daughter? Why was she being treated as a servant?
Slowly, she straightened her shoulders, using one hand to push away the heavy tresses. She lifted her head, and our gazes locked. I stepped back in disbelief, barely able to hide my horror and shock.
The face she revealed was that of a beautiful skeleton. White skin, beyond pale, stretched taut over high cheekbones. A perfectly formed nose. Small ears. A swan’s neck. In contrast with her paleness, her lips were full and red, akin to a slash of crimson on snow. Hers was one of the loveliest faces I had ever beheld with my eyes.
Her hair tumbled past her slender shoulders, and my eyes were drawn to her bosom.
Her breasts were large, heavy. Far too large for her tiny frame. Even standing straight, she tried to hide them, obviously ill at ease.
Her trembling increased as I drew closer. Our eyes met, and I felt the stirrings within my chest as I took in her weary, ancient gaze.
Her eyes were blue—but not the simple blue of the sky or water. They were a shade I could not even describe, that of the ocean on a stormy day, blues and grays mixing and crashing together. Framed by long lashes, they were filled with pain and trepidation.
And pure, abject terror.
I had seen that terror in one other set of eyes. It was a memory I carried close to my heart—which after all these years still had the power to bring me to my knees.
I hadn’t been able to comprehend what I was seeing then, but I recognized it now. And I refused to turn my back on that emotion.
“She’ll do.”
Her eyes widened, her trembling increasing. I wanted to step forward, whisper reassurances that all would be well, but I could not. Any sign of weakness would put both her and me in danger.
My gaze flickered to Edward. I lifted one eyebrow, and his nod was evident only to me.
He would watch her until this was done.
With determination, I returned to my chair, lifting my brandy and tossing it back. “The bet is agreeable. The sum on the table, your deed to the scrub-brush piece of land, and your servant.”
The greedy, inept fool grinned. It was malicious and filled with preemptive victory. “If I win, five thousand pounds is mine.”
I filled a marker and tossed it in the pile. “Agreed.”
MADELEINE
Dismissed from the den of vice in the drawing room by my father, I hastened through the maze of halls belowstairs, tears blurring my vision. With shaking fingers, I tucked my hair back up into my muslin cap, which had been torn from my head before I entered the room. The Marquess of Wheaton’s words echoed in my mind, fear clawing at my throat with each hurried step.
She’ll do.
His voice had been deep and mellifluous, but it had been his dark, impenetrable stare that had worried me, as impossible to read as his grim, harsh countenance had been. He was a much larger man than my father, tall and broad of shoulder with a lean yet muscular build. A man who could overpower me with ease.
I was being presented as a prize to him, as if I were an object or a piece of land. As if I were incapable of feeling. As if I were less than a person. And by the man who had sired me.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. My father’s disdain for me was as plain as the nose on my face. But when I had been forced into the drawing room by Mrs. Wells, I hadn’t anticipated the true purpose for my presence would be so horrifying.
I had not been called to clean up spilled wine or to attend to the hearth or to sweep the carpets. Instead, I had been hauled into the room as an offering.
The eyes of every man in the chamber had been upon me, assessing me as if I were a horse on the auction block at Tattersalls. But I was only being presented to one of them. To the marquess.
What manner of man was Lord Wheaton? And for what purposes would I do, as he had so callously stated? If the marquess emerged the victor from the gaming table, would I be forced into servitude at his estate instead of my father’s?
My stomach twisted with dread. Or would I be expected to perform other duties for his lordship?
As I rounded a corner in the dank hall, the sound of a mouse scurrying away distracted me. I turned toward the noise and collided with someone. Fresh alarm crept up my spine as I jerked my head forward, struggling to keep from tumbling to my bottom.
The visage before me was concerned and kindly, thank heavens. It was Geraldine, an older and experienced maid who had been here at Cliffwood before I was born. She had been my mother’s lady’s maid, and though my mother was long gone, Geraldine had remained, despite the lesser position she now held as a housemaid.