Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"O h my, she's here? How dare she show her face? Was her sister not caught in a scandal a few years before?" Lucy Hatcher's heart raced as she entered the grand hall of the esteemed soirée. She hadn't even fully crossed the threshold yet, and whispers had begun rippling through the crowd like a gusts wind.

"Is she the one?" another voice barely whispered as she sucked in a sharp breath. She spied the trio of ladies a few feet away from her with thinly veiled disdain on their faces.

"Oh, she's the one all right. She's hard to miss. They have the same face. A pair of hungry faces, they are." Lucy stopped in her tracks as the words sliced through the air. She felt like the center of attention and could swear there were a hundred pairs of eyes on her. She fought to keep her composure as she sucked in greedy gulps of air, but it was a lost battle.

"Listen here, you little chits. Just because?—"

"No, Lucy," Patience Hatcher, the Viscountess of Pemberton, clamped a firm grip on Lucy's wrist. "Ignore them, my dear." But Lucy wasn't giving up.

"But Mother?—"

Patience's grip tightened on Lucy's arm. "It's not worth it. Don't let them get to you."

Her mother was right. It was not worth it. Her family responsibility weighed heavy on her shoulders, and she strengthened her resolve, no matter how hard each barb pierced.

Pull yourself together, Lucy . She took a deep breath and snapped out of her haze. Only then did she truly notice the numerous pairs of eyes on her along with hushed whispers. Panic bubbled in her chest threatening to erupt.

Willing herself to ignore everything, she trudged ahead. She was here for a mission, anyway. Still, Lucy couldn't shake off the feeling of unwelcome that settled over them like a heavy fog.

At the foot of the grand staircase stood Lady Grenville herself, resplendent in a gown of shimmering emerald silk, her diamonds flashing like stars against the velvet night sky. Lucy felt a tad conscious about the state of her dress. It surely was no emerald silk, nor did it glitter, and she certainly did not have flashing diamonds on her neck or anywhere else.

Sharp eyes cast accusing glances at those deemed unworthy of their lofty company. Lucy and her mother, no doubt, belonged in the second category. She felt like a pariah and fought the urge to turn around and flee home. Wherever they went, a space seemed to magically clear, and they would be left alone. Despite the warmth of the room, a chill settled in Lucy's bones.

We are not welcome here, Lucy thought as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her worn dress. She couldn't bear the thought of her presence being a burden. After all, her sister's scandal rang in every mouth as it was. But it didn't matter.

She would bear every scorn. She would swallow every barb. She would do whatever it took to restore her family's reputation. Society was cruel, and all she wanted was to bury herself in the comfort of her covers and hide away most of the time. But she knew better than to do that. Her future and that of her family were on the line.

You will not cower away. You will hold your head high.

"Come on, now. Let us pay our respects to Lady Grenville. We can't be rude to the hostess now, can we?"

"No, we can't." But even as Lucy smiled, she couldn't hide the growing trepidation in her belly. Still, she followed her mother until they stopped right at the side of the resplendent lady in green.

"It's a pleasure to be in your residence, Lady Grenville. It's a beautiful gathering you have here." Her mother drew Lady Grenville into a warm embrace.

"They're really here." She heard a voice whisper in the corner. "And look at them groveling at the Countess' feet." The derision was hard to miss.

"I heard they were invited, but I did not think they would be stupid enough to attend. Looks like I was wrong. What a shameless pair." Lucy stilled as she struggled to contain her temper. Could a moment not pass without someone mocking them?

"Oh, thank you, Lady Patience. You sure know how to turn on the charm." Lady Grenville winked, and Lucy's jaw hung open. She had never seen this degree of warmth, playfulness, or friendliness in any member of society, let alone an esteemed woman like Lady Grenville. She had only ever been acknowledged with disdain, scorn, and downright hostility. This was a pleasant surprise.

"You may want to close your mouth, little one. We wouldn't want flies getting in now," Lady Grenville said with a smile playing on her lips. Warmth flooded into Lucy, and for the first time that evening, she finally felt like she could breathe. "And who might you be?" Lucy's mouth felt like paper as she struggled to get the words out.

"Of course, she feels too big to answer the Lady." Someone in the corner made a scathing comment.

"Nothing but the daughter of a lowly viscount, the sister of an adventuress at that. And yet, she deems it difficult to answer to the Countess of Colwick. I wonder why Lady Grenville insists on inviting underbellies like this. It's not like there's a shortage of noblemen in all of England."

Lucy gasped at the cruel words. How could one be so unnecessarily mean? Her heart thundered at the thought of being perceived as rude by the Countess. She chanced a glance at the Lady, and the kindness in her eyes was all she needed to continue.

"I apologize, My Lady. I am Miss Lucy Hatcher, daughter of the Viscount of Pemberton, and I am delighted to be in your presence this evening. It's a lovely manor you have." That much was true. Despite the trolls gathered in almost every corner, Lady Grenville's manor screamed class and taste.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings like glittering stalactites, casting a warm, golden glow over the assembled guests below. Tapestries adorned the walls, their colors vibrant against the backdrop of polished mahogany.

In one corner of the hall, a table groaned under the weight of silver platters and crystal goblets, laden with delicacies fit for a king. The scent of roasted meats and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, mingling with the heady aroma of fine wines and exotic spices.

"What a lovely young lady you've got here, Lady Patience. So beautiful." She smiled kindly at both of them, and Lucy wondered whether she was hallucinating. So, members of society could be kind? She blinked rapidly as she tried to regain her composure.

"Thank you, My Lady." Lucy's mother beamed.

"All right, you two have a lovely time. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Lady Grenville nodded and turned her attention to the other guests.

"I can't believe it, Mother. Lady Grenville is as beautiful as she is kind."

"Society might be cruel, but there surely are some gems out there. They may be rare, but they do exist."

"I am amazed." Lucy could barely contain her excitement until it was snatched from her.

"Would you look at them, sucking up to the Countess? What a miserable pair. They're only trying to get to Lady Grenville's son, I'm sure of that. He's an earl, after all." Lucy's excitement immediately came to a crashing halt as she snapped back to reality.

Ignore them. Just ignore them, Lucy chanted to herself. But this time, the words held little comfort. She had no idea the Countess had a son. Yet, she was being judged for it. What had they done to deserve this?

Disappointment gnawed at her insides as her mother led her through the throng of guests, her hopes dimming with each whispered barb. They were relentless now, and she felt utterly exposed and chilled to the bone, even though she was fully covered.

Lucy had hoped this Season would be different, that she might finally find a suitor, and hopefully secure her future. But she'd had no such luck. Instead, her prospects had only dimmed further.

As they passed a bevy of ladies, Lucy couldn't help but catch snatches of their conversation, their tongues wagging about what was no business of theirs.

"She tried to trap a marquess—Lord Nicholls of Bromington. She had planned it perfectly. Turns out, he was nothing but a rake." It was a lovely brunette in blue with her lips downturned in a sneer. Lovely indeed.

"Was she that desperate?" asked a sparkling blonde with jewels intricately woven in her hair.

"It shouldn't be a surprise. It's no secret that they're under the hatches. They hardly have a tanner to their name. That's why she planned to trap Lord Nicholls." Tears pricked Lucy's eyes as tales of her supposed wanton sister went on. And as if that wasn't enough, her family's financial woes had entered the conversation.

"And how would you know they are under the hatches?" the bejeweled lady pressed on, not ready to let go of such a juicy piece of information.

"You can't be that blind. I mean, look at her. If I were Lady Grenville, I would give instructions not to let her in with her cheap rags. What with the odor of it? Appalling."

Shame washed over Lucy as she looked down at her dress. Truly, it was old and fraying at the hems. She had done her best to cover its holes by sewing patches of colored threads to give it a renewed look. Apparently, it hadn't worked. She looked around the room, and she could no longer deny it—she stuck out like a sore thumb in her dress.

The ladies went on and on, leading anyone who cared to lend a listening ear down the path of her sister's downfall and the supposed desperation of a family on the brink of financial ruin. Lucy's fists clenched at her sides, her nails biting into her palms as she fought to keep her emotions in check. They would not see her tears.

The ton could be merciless in its judgment, but it was not Theodosia's fault for attracting the attention of a rake. Blast him to hell and back! Her sister was the victim. Why couldn't people see that? Why did she have to pay for his sins when he went scot-free?

She'd had enough. She'd pay no heed to those gossiping lots who had nothing better to do than discuss other people. They could spin all the tales they wanted, but she knew the truth.

She set out to mingle with the guests, but they seemed to give her a wide berth wherever she went.

"Oh hello, Lady Lucy." Her ears rang at Lady. She knew it was just to mock her. "That's a lovely dress you have on," Lady Annabelle went on with a mischievous look on her face.

"Tha - thank you," Lucy sputtered.

"The Season is almost here! Do you have plans already?" Annabelle chatted animatedly.

"Not really." Lucy held her tongue. Annabelle wasn't really a friend. She was an acquaintance in the least. And as far as she knew, no one could be trusted.

"My goodness! That's a travesty. You should not say that out loud. It is going to be wonderful. I can't wait! Do you see Lord Frederick over there?" Annabelle gestured with her eyes. Lucy looked ahead and sighted the dashing young man a few feet ahead.

"I do."

"His eyes have been following you. I think you may have a good match." Annabelle's eyes glittered.

Lucy could feel it in her gut. There was something off. She looked closely, and it finally hit her—it was Lord Frederick! One of London's most unrepentant rakes! And to her growing horror, she noted that Annabelle was stirring her in his direction!

"My Lady, I have to go."

"What now, Lucy? I did not take you to be a killjoy."

"Forgive me, My Lady, but I must see to my mother immediately. She is of poor health and cannot be left alone for too long." Lucy hoped she was convincing enough. The last thing she needed was to be in a compromising situation.

"All right then. You may take leave." Lucy didn't miss the glower on the lady's face.

"Thank you." And she swiftly left, relieved to have escaped a precarious situation. She sighted her mother who was engaged in an animated conversation with two older women. As if knowing she was there, her mother whipped around. Excusing herself, she left her acquaintances and walked to Lucy.

"Where have you been, my child? I have been looking for you."

"I was just…here," Lucy replied vaguely. She could not tell her mother of her narrow escape. She would only be worried about history repeating itself.

"Are you sure? Something is troubling you. Talk to me, Lucy." Lucy cursed inwardly. It was just her luck that her mother was too perceptive for her own good.

"It's nothing, Mama. I just wonder how you can smile and talk with all this gossip hanging over our heads." The Viscountess sighed deeply, a long and troubling one.

"Truly, it is not as dire as it seems. Look at it this way. At least, we still get invites to society events."

"That's it, Mother? That's the good thing?"

"What else would you have me say, Lucy?" The Viscountess sighed again, suddenly looking small and older than her age. She looked worn and frail. "How will you find a good match if you're not invited to events? Please, think about it."

"I know. But it's just so unfair."

"I know it's hard, but you have to ignore it, my child. Don't pay them any heed. The important thing is we know the truth."

She had been ignoring it all. But how long could she continue? Would she have to keep ignoring them for the rest of her life? And of what use was the truth if they were the only ones who knew it?

"Dry your tears, my dear. Don't let them fall for these people." Her mother dabbed at Lucy's face with her kerchief, its floral fragrance soothing her wounded soul.

"They won't. They don't deserve it." Lucy sniffed, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. But she wouldn't let this deter her. Theodosia didn't deserve it. But her sister had paid the price. That was it then. It would end with Lucy. And by the heavens, it would be so. No matter how many tongues wagged. No matter how long it took.

"That's more like it," her mother encouraged.

"I swear it to you, Mama. I will find a good match. I will do whatever it takes. For Caroline and for Stephen. They will never have to deal with any of this. I will make sure of it."

Her mother's eyes shone with unshed tears. She wouldn't deny that things were looking bleak for her. At twenty years of age, with no prospects in sight, she was well on her way to a life of spinsterhood. That and the fact that her family was no doubt on the list of eternal damnation from London's social circles.

Their family's future hung in the balance, and Lucy felt the weight of responsibility heavy on her shoulders. She had to secure a match to safeguard her family's future. And there was the issue of her younger sister. She had to salvage her sister's prospects. And she swore under her breath to protect her little sister from the harsh judgments of society.

"Good. Now, let us go back in with our heads high." Her mother smiled, a real one. Lucy couldn't help but return her smile.

And they went back in with their arms interlocked, forming a fortress against the onslaught of gossip against them. But the whispers and stares followed them like a relentless tide, proving too strong for their human fortress. She would not let that deter her.

And Lucy went, a permanent smile was etched on her lips until she thought her face would split in half as she tried to join the clusters of guests. But she was subtly hushed with some outrightly turning her away. Hurt bubbled in her chest. She could take it no more.

"I need some air, Mother." Lucy was almost gasping under the scrutiny of the numerous eyes on her. Seeking respite from the suffocating judgment, she didn't wait for her mother's reply and slipped away for a solitary walk in the cool night air.

Her feet carried her through the labyrinthine corridors of the sprawling manor. With each step away from the grand hall, she breathed easier, enjoying the tranquility of the night.

Making up her mind not to return to the soirée, she wandered through the estate until she came across just what she wanted. She knocked twice with no answer. Certain that there was no one inside, she entered the dimly lit chamber and sighed in relief. She relished the quiet, a welcome offering from the madness she'd been subjected to all evening.

Her eyes darted to the balcony where she saw a lone figure.

I hope this isn't what it seems.

The figure stood, towering and oozing power even without doing anything. But she didn't miss the melancholy. She couldn't even if she tried. And even in the dark, she could see that the figure was powerfully built. It sent a wicked jolt up her spine.

Her heart thrummed loudly. She placed a small palm on her chest, willing it to slow down.

She peered into the darkness, hoping she was wrong. She saw it, and her heart dropped.

No .

She had to get out of there immediately! She turned to flee when she heard footsteps echoing.

This cannot be happening. This will not happen!

She had escaped what seemed like an unfortunate situation with Lord Frederick. And now, this! Panic seized Lucy's chest as she darted behind a nearby curtain, her heart pounding in her ears. Her breath came out in short, shallow pants as she pressed herself against the wall, toying nervously with the loose strands of the fraying edges of her dress.

Through the thin veil of the curtain, Lucy glimpsed the lone figure standing on the balcony, his silhouette bathed in the moonlight. Her pulse quickened as the footsteps drew nearer, her mind racing with a thousand dire possibilities.

A loveless life. Her younger sister's prospects ruined forever. Her family's eternal social and financial damnation.

No, dear God, please no.

She hoped against all hope that whoever approached would not discover her sanctuary. She couldn't afford to be found alone with a gentleman. Not again. It would spell doom for her already precarious reputation.

No. Fate could not be so cruel as to strike the same spot twice.

Or could it?