Chapter 1

"My God, Imogene, what have you done?"

Considering that her cousin had been like this for three days since the incident at the soiree, Imogene would have thought that her own annoyance over the issue would have dissipated. But the fact remained that one man's foolishness had cost her everything, as though she had not been struggling already.

"I fail to see how this is my fault. He was the one who put his hands on me inappropriately. I wasn't just going to stand there and bear such disrespect. That was not how I was raised—not by my father or my sisters."

Laurent pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly as if he were trying to calm himself. Whatever words of peace he had spoken in his mind had failed to do the job because one moment he was quietly breathing, and the next he was red in the face.

"He claims you were the one who attempted to seduce him! After all I have done to show you how much I?—"

"I did not seduce him!" Imogene cried, feeling completely worn out but still unwilling to let her ridiculous cousin have the last word. "I smiled at him a couple of times, and I did hope he would ask me to dance. If anyone had nefarious intentions, it was him! What did he even expect? That I would ask him to have me right there, on the dance floor?"

Laurent looked as though he was torn between bursting into tears and screaming. "I fail to see why you were even speaking with him in the first place! You should not have been alone with him, much less behaved inappropriately to the point where you had provoked him, and then you felt the need to retaliate and hit him."

Imogene gawked, offended beyond belief. "Did you not hear a word I said? This was not my fault?—"

"I told you that you did not need to seek out another man. I am determined to marry you, as I have declared for a long time. I wish you would take me seriously."

"That you deem your proposal serious is what concerns me greatly. I have said to you, time and time again, that I cannot and will not marry you. Not today, not tomorrow, not even after a million summers come and go. My father would not want such a pitiful marriage for me, and now that things have turned out this way, my sisters will help me soon. I am sure there is something that can be done with my dowry?—"

"Your sisters are never to know anything about this. Not about the fact that you have no dowry or about my endless debts. These are the reasons why I haven't married you yet, but once all of that has been resolved, we can be together, just as I wish."

Imogene felt as though she had been doused in freezing water.

Did he just—surely not. He could not have?—

Gertrude, who had been watching Laurent scold Imogene with mild annoyance, quickly rose out of her chair and marched to her son, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt, and pulling him around to face her.

"Laurent, what on earth do you mean by that?"

"What have you done with my dowry? Laurent, what did you do?" Imogene added.

"Please tell me that this is just some unfortunate misunderstanding. Just how much debt do you have?" his mother questioned, a look of disbelief etched onto her features.

Imogene could feel herself shaking, barely standing firm against the despair pulling her apart on the inside.

The last three years had been difficult, to say the least. She had lived through three failed Seasons, each one more devastating than the last, leaving her wondering just how flawed she was. She had watched her sisters enjoy their blissful marriages, flourishing under the attention of their loving, doting husbands, aching for a time when she would have that too.

But as time passed and no prospective suitor approached her, she could not help but feel the bitter sting of disappointment in herself. All her family had wanted for her was to find a good husband. Her eldest sister, Agnes, had been required to marry for the sake of reuniting with her sisters after their father passed, and Prudence had harbored no particular desire to get married.

Yet, they had found wonderful men who treasured them endlessly, with good social standing. And Imogene, the youngest, of whom everyone had held high hopes, had given everything to ensure that she would have no problems at all when she came of age. Her father's dying wish for her was that she be taken to London to continue her lessons with the best teachers under the strict but well-meaning supervision of her aunt.

Laurent had the decency to look ashamed, dropping his gaze to avoid his mother's glare. "I might have made some unlucky bets?—"

"You mean you gambled away your fortune, along with a dowry you had no right to touch?" Gertrude interjected, looking moments away from flinging something at her foolish son.

"Yes, I did. I gambled it away. It was an unfortunate loss, but it will be all right. I took out a loan recently, and I will use it to repay all that I owe. Everything will go back to normal," Laurent reassured with a grin.

"Back to normal?" Gertrude echoed with a mocking tone. "Heavens, I can't tell if you're wonderfully optimistic or just hilariously stupid. Given your recent actions, it is very likely the latter. What on earth do you mean by ‘normal'? Imogene has been ruined! Suppose you do somehow manage to repay your debts—a difficult feat to achieve, given that you are practically borrowing from Peter to pay Paul—what about Imogene's current predicament? It will be difficult to find her a good husband. One willing to overlook all that has transpired. We would need a miracle—nothing short of doubling her dowry."

"Why would we need some random buffoon to hand her over to, when she could just marry me? You will not find anyone more suitable for her, who loves her as deeply as I do. I should make the best match for her," Laurent said.

"Your confidence is as astounding as your stupidity is endless. Do you think you are the best option for her, when you have had a hand in orchestrating the difficulties that currently plague her? Do you have a single thought in that head of yours, or is that space filled with whiskey and cigar smoke?"

"Mother, please?—"

"I have never met someone as irredeemably daft as you are. Even after all you have done, rather than come to terms with your wrongdoings and offer a proper apology, you stand before us, shamelessly flapping your lips like the town gossip, intending to do even more harm than good. Have you not done enough? When will you be satisfied with the consequences of your actions? Is it perhaps when we are on the street, dressed in rags because you have rendered your inherited title useless?"

Laurent was not happy to be on the receiving end of his mother's berating and looked to Imogene for help, stiffening uncomfortably when he was met with her stony, angry glare.

Deciding that Gertrude was currently the lesser of two evils, the Earl of Lockheart tried to placate her. "It will all be over soon, I can assure you. I just need some time."

"Time is something Imogene does not have, you dunce. No matter, I shall see to it personally that she is married off well. I thought you could be trusted to do right by her because she is your family, but clearly, I was wrong. I accept that the fault lies with me, and I will make sure that mistake is never repeated. You have done more than enough, and we must stop you before the girl's life is ruined completely," Gertrude spat, wagging a finger in his face.

Imogene tried to implore him, hoping that his mother's words had drilled some sense into him. "If I ask, I am sure my sister's husbands would not mind paying off your debts. Taking a loan will only dig you a deeper grave, cousin?—"

"Better that than to receive meager tokens from your brothers-in-law like some common beggar on the street. They might be dukes, but I am an earl. I still have some shred of dignity, and I do not want or need any charity from them," Laurent snapped angrily.

Imogene stared at him, disappointed but not necessarily surprised that, even at this moment, he would still cling tightly to his pride.

"You are being quite ridiculous, cousin. And I will not simply stand idly by and watch you ruin my life," she stated, clenching her hands into fists.

Laurent tsked and brushed past her, saying quietly but loud enough for her to hear, "dear Imogene, you cannot possibly be more ruined than you are now."

Those words echoed in her mind as she retired to her bedroom, stifling her breath and weighing her down as she fought the urge to cry. Her lady's maid, Kate, was waiting for her with a look of worry etched on her soft features.

"My lady, what?—"

"It's gone. All of it. My dowry. Laurent—he's—oh God," Imogene stammered, barely paying attention as Kate caught her to stop her fall. "I can't believe he's done this. He has rendered me utterly hopeless."

To an extent, Imogene had been aware of her cousin's vices. They were likely the reason why her father had proposed that her eldest sister Agnes marry the Duke of Forestwood. Because if their family had to rely on Laurent completely, he would have irrevocably destroyed their prospects. Imogene was placed under Gertrude's care because her aunt could be trusted to raise her properly, and she had.

Imogene had hoped that it would all come to a head soon—that this Season, she would finally find a husband. She would be away from this place, free to do as she wished, hopefully with someone she loved, who adored her as much or even more. Unfortunately, this scandal had besmirched her name and had cost her more than she could afford. She felt worn out, even tired of keeping her spirits up—especially in light of the fact that she had no dowry anymore.

"I don't know what I am to do," she confessed to Kate after she had been guided to sit down on her bed. "I don't know if or how I will overcome this."

"Your sisters… surely they can help somehow? Perhaps you should write to them, my lady," Kate suggested, saddened by how distraught her mistress was.

"I am not sure they would be able to do much. Agnes said she would stop by soon, but I doubt she will be able to help. And Prudence is still in confinement. She still has some more time before she can rejoin Society, and I do not want my petty matters to take her attention away from her newborn."

"One would hardly call it petty, my lady. This is your life we are talking about. There has to be something that can be done!"

Imogene sighed. "Even if the dowry can be returned, would I still be wanted? The entirety of London must have heard of my scandal by now. Perhaps even the whole of England. I am not sure?—"

"Forgive me, my lady, but please stop speaking like this. This is not who you are. Lady Imogene is brave and strong, especially in the face of adversity, and that cousin of yours will not take away your shine. Do not lose hope, do not despair. Even if the whole of London has heard about it, you must remember that the world is much larger than this place. You are far too precious, and too wonderful not to find someone who will look past all that you are going through currently and want you for who you are," Kate insisted, gently holding Imogene's face in her hands.

Imogene felt a little spark of hope in her chest, trying to cling to it as she asked, "do you really believe so?"

Kate nodded with a gentle smile. "Of course. I have known you all your life. I know that as big as this problem appears, it is not so great that it will completely keep you down. You can—and you will—rise above this. We will do all that we can and ask for help to ensure that the earl doesn't take even more from you. It might not be much, but you have my support."

Imogene smiled, reaching for one of her lady's maid's hands and squeezing it gently. "It is plenty. Thank you, Kate."

"It is always a pleasure, my lady."

Her maid was right. There must be a way out of this. Imogene would not let it end like this. Not on her life.

She clasped her hands together, muttering a quick prayer for someone to be able to aid her before it was too late.

"I will overcome this… somehow. No matter what it takes."