Chapter 1

"Mama! You must listen to this line; it had me in stitches last night when I read it." Henrietta Fitzroy cleared her throat, straightening her spine as she sat on the settee in their family parlour.

Sun streamed in through the open window, bathing the room in warm afternoon light. Fresh pink roses had been placed on the table in front of the window, allowing a sweet scent to waft into the room decorated in the French style.

Emeline Fitzroy placed her cup back on the tray and smiled at her daughter, paying apt attention with a knowing smile. Her dark blonde hair was elegantly piled atop her head, unlike her daughter, who preferred her golden lengths plated down her back.

Henrietta stifled another giggle before beginning to read to her mother from the play.

‘"For I am the very first man to have ever been called the King of Fashion in London.' Charles paraded up and down, swinging his cane over one arm. ‘Who called you that?' Asked Maude quite wittily, knowing that her companion had consumed most of the wine. ‘Well, it was I, of course. I single-handedly started the bustle trend by which ladies feel inclined to make their bottoms appear larger than the flat posteriors they were actually born with!'" Henrietta's sweet voice burst into fits of pleasant giggles.

"Henrietta! That is quite naughty." Emmeline admonished her daughter gently, unable to hide her own smile of amusement. The Countess of Avon was a proper lady, much like her daughter, who knew how to carry herself in social situations but always enjoyed a laugh at home. Both mother and daughter held an affinity for comedic plays that were otherwise seen as unfit for ladies.

Henrietta's dark brown eyes twinkled mischievously, highlighting the flecks of gold in her irises. She was a tall girl with an elegant frame and a clear complexion, a known beauty of the ton who preferred to save herself for love rather than marry the first man who wandered across her path. Emeline herself encouraged her daughters to seek love rather than fortune.

"I think it's brilliant; I never understood why we as women have to alter our appearances just to please men. Why can't we walk around with the natural graces that God gave us? What do you think, Lucy-Anne?" Henrietta turned to her maid, who had just entered the room and was carrying a tray of crustless cucumber sandwiches cut into triangles.

The girl's olive cheeks filled with colour as she glanced from Lady Avon to Henrietta. Her chestnut hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin made her look like someone from across the sea rather than a natural-born Londoner. She would have been a beauty to be reckoned with if life had been kinder and allowed her to be born into a more affluent family.

"Go on, you can be honest; it's just us here. Do you think women should alter their appearances to please men, or should we embrace our natural graces?" Henrietta encouraged her with a warm smile, patiently waiting for the girl to add her opinion to the conversation.

Lucy-Anne, who served in the house as a maid but regularly joined in the conversations like one of the family, pursed her lips to hide a cheeky grin. "I think it's easy to make such a statement when one has been blessed with all the natural graces that God has to offer, My Lady."

Emmeline burst into a fit of chortles as a deep blush spread over Henrietta's cheeks. "Very well said; it's easy for someone as beautiful as you are to say such things, Henrietta. There are far more homely girls out there who welcome the latest fashions to help them find husbands."

Henrietta's thin lips curved into a warm smile. She often enjoyed the warm banter of her family and closest friend and confidant, who happened to be her maid. She knew very well that men found her attractive; she was just as pretty as her mother except for the countess's chubbier cheeks that had come with age.

Lucy-Anne placed the tray on the table beside the tea when the door to the parlour burst open, revealing an overly excited young girl who came skipping into the room. Her brown curls bounced beside her cherubic face, her green eyes flashing mischievously as she brandished a pamphlet above her head.

"You must see the latest news; what they wrote is absolutely scandalous." She fell into an open chair, her cheeks filling with colour as she unfolded the latest scandal sheet that had become her obsession. She was at least a head shorter than her eldest sister.

"Marianna, how many times have I told you not to read those dreadful pamphlets? It's nothing more than lewd gossip, and a young lady such as yourself should not be opening herself up to such things," Emmeline scolded her youngest daughter, pulling her nose up at the offending piece of parchment.

Ignoring her mother, Marianna focused on the sheet and began to read. Unlike her mother and sister, she harboured an unhealthy zeal for gossip and an unfortunate talent for doing all the wrong things in social settings.

"This week's subject is the mysterious Baron St John, whose public appearances are less frequent than suitable marriages amongst the ton."

Henrietta rolled her eyes in disgust One could always count on the scandal sheets to spread the most salacious details about others' lives. For all they knew, this Baron St John was a lovely man with good intentions whom gossipmongers saw fit to paint in a bad light.

Marianna continued, unperturbed by the lack of enthusiasm from her audience. "The frightful appearance of the Baron's masked face has to make many a young lady faint. It is not known how the St John estate burned to the ground, but rumours of foul play and even arson have been circulating for years. It is not clear whether or not the Baron himself was directly involved after the passing of his brother who would have inherited the title before him." She let out a dramatic gasp with the final line.

"Stuff and nonsense, you must learn how to keep your emotions in check, Marianna. This kind of behaviour will not do when it comes time for you to find a husband; now put away that nonsense and have your tea. Henrietta, please take this nonsense away from your sister before we need to send for the smelling salts." Emmeline shook her head and continued to scold her daughter.

Doing as her mother asked, Henrietta leaned over and retrieved the scandal sheet from beside her sister. She was about to discard the piece of parchment when a hand-drawn copy of a portrait caught her eye.

The handsome figure that stared up at her caught her off guard, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Even with half of his face covered with what seemed to be a porcelain mask, she could see that Baron St John was a devilishly handsome man. His eyes were drawn in such a soft manner that he almost appeared kind despite the gossip written about him. His features were strong and sharp, ending with a strong jaw and thick, wavy, brown hair.

It was hard to think of him as someone involved in such a scandal, even with the mask covering the left side of his face from his temple to his jaw. The design curved around his eye and cradled his cheekbone right up to the edge of his nose. A strange, fluttering sensation knotted the pit of her stomach as she looked into the sketch's eyes.

No.

She quickly placed the sheet face down on the settee beside her and looked away. Handsome features could be dangerously misleading, especially for young women. She hadn't been one to swoon over men, yet something about the drawing caught her attention from the start. Features were usually embellished by whoever the artist was, but if the baron was half as handsome as his portrait, then he was certainly something else.

"Why are you suddenly so quiet? Is anything the matter, dear?" Emmeline looked at her eldest daughter with a frown.

"Nothing, Mama, I'm just a bit tired." Henrietta tried her best to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran down her spine after looking at the baron's sketch.

"I think we are all a little tired after your sister's reading. Just wait until your father gets home, and I tell him what you've been up to again." Their mother narrowed her eyes at Marianna, who made a face and folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child.

All four women looked up when the doors to the parlour once again burst open, eliciting a deep frown from Marianna when her husband came stumbling into the room.

The earl's face was flushed pink, his brown hair tousled, and his clothes were more than just a little dishevelled.

"Good heavens what has happened?" Emmeline was first to come to her husband's aid as she led him into a vacant chair and gestured for Lucy-Anne to pour a cup of tea.

Derek Fitzroy shook his head, shutting his hazel eyes. His usually drawn features were pale despite his almost tanned complexion. "It's too late, everything is lost." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Henrietta's mouth fell open as she glanced at her sister and mother. "What do you mean everything is lost, Papa?"

"All the money, the family's wealth, investments, and savings. There isn't even a penny left for your dowries." Their father uttered the last words as if he were about to faint.

Taking control of the situation, Emmeline sat in front of her husband, forcing him to sip the sweet tea Lucy-Anne had prepared. "Now, start at the beginning and tell us everything that happened. It can't be all that bad."

Derek composed himself before looking into his wife's eyes. "Ernest and I made a bad investment; it seemed like a good idea at the time. We did our research and everything. The figures looked good on paper, but the charlatans took the money and ran as soon as it was in their hands."

Henrietta sat up straight as the blood drained from her face. "Do you mean Cousin Ernest?"

Her father nodded. "He invested just as much as I did. The family is left without a penny. There is no hope of keeping the scandal hidden unless we come up with a great deal of money and quickly. I'm afraid we will all be ruined if we do not act now."

"I don't understand. How will we come up with such a large sum of money in such a short time?" Emmeline sat back with her hands in her lap, looking more crestfallen than Henrietta had ever seen her.

Marianna stood and began to pace in her dramatic fashion. "Surely something can be done; our family has always stuck together, even in the hardest times."

Lucy-Anne bit her lower lip and left the room, quietly excusing herself from family affairs.

"What can be done about the matter, Papa? Surely there is something?" Henrietta took a deep breath, keeping her cool as she always did in strenuous situations. It didn't make any sense to her that her father and their cousin had got into such a perilous situation; they had always had such shining examples of how business needed to be conducted.

"We will all have to play our parts." The earl lifted his face and looked at his eldest daughter, holding her gaze longer than necessary.

The pit of her stomach coiled with fear. The look in her father's eyes let Henrietta know that things were about to get a lot more difficult for them all, especially for her. He didn't need to tell her what he was thinking for Henrietta to know just how dire his suggestion would be for her.