Prologue
Two men were sitting together in a darkened room, playing games with people’s lives. One of these two gentlemen sat back, completely at ease in the opulent surroundings of the gentleman’s club.
“The answer to our problems is clear,” he said.
“Is it?” asked the other, lifting a finger for a drink. The pinky of his hand had a long, raised scar down its length, shining pink in the light of the club.
“The Marquess of Cunningham must be destroyed,” the first man replied matter-of-factly.
“Destroyed, you say?” his companion replied with interest. “How could such a thing be accomplished? He is a well-established gentleman, with friends in high places. Perhaps we orchestrate a fall from grace by using his faults against him?”
“No,” the reply was simple, there would be no compromises from this particular man. “That tack would work with a different sort of man, one who was less… noble.” The affectation on the last word made it clear what he thought of such a trait. “Leonard Whitfield has no gambling problem, no problem with drink, not even a bastard child that we could use against him.”
“That makes things more difficult.”
“Perhaps not. Because there is one fault he has, something that can be exploited.”
“Yes?”
“He cares too much. He wants to make his father proud, his family proud, to do right in all things. If we destroy his business, though he may not need the money, it will destroy his pride. He will be vulnerable, weak.”
The other man began to laugh. “How will we do that?”
“Let me tell you exactly how.”
Chapter One
Not far outside of London, a much beloved little boy was turning one.
Miss Sarah Marlow arrived at her best friend’s home early to help prepare for the party. She had a feeling Juliet was likely to be worried about the upcoming celebration, and the conversation she walked into proved her right.
“Clarissa, are the tables prepared outside?” Juliet asked, a note of stress creeping into her voice.
“Yes, Miss,” Clarissa answered patiently. “And all of the foods for tea have been prepared. There’s nothing more for you to do but relax.”
Juliet twisted her lips. “I suppose I’ve been a bit over the top, haven’t I?”
Clarissa smiled, smoothing the high-end material of her skirt, something she had taken to doing often ever since it had been upgraded to match her new position as lady’s maid to a Marchioness. “You’re just anxious for it to go well, Miss. Everything will be perfect. Go, rest, we’ll make sure everything is ready for the guests to arrive.”
Sarah took Juliet’s hand. “Come, let’s go for a walk. It’ll ease your nervous energy.”
“What am I, a high-strung mare?” Juliet asked with a laugh, but she complied.
As the two walked the sun-drenched grounds of the vineyard, Sarah could feel her friend calming down.
“Jules, what is it about this party that has got you feeling so anxious?” she asked. “You’ve hosted larger events than this. The debut party for the new bottles that Lord Cunningham designed had a much larger attendance!”
“That’s precisely it,” Juliet said with a small frown. “That party was all about Whitfield Wines, all I had to do was make sure it represented the brand and the Whitfield family.”
“And today?”
“Today, it’s showing off the family we made. Sarah, I still feel as if the members of thetonare just waiting to say, ‘Ha, we told you so!’ You know how everyone was so shocked that a Marquess would marry a nobody like me, especially when it was assumed he was marrying the daughter of an Εarl. I worry they all want to see me slip up, to see George do something inappropriate, or to see Leonard and I disagree on something, to prove that he did marry too far below his station.”
Sarah’s heart hurt at the pain in her friend’s voice, but she knew that to sympathize would only lead them down a path of self-pity. Juliet needed to go into today feeling confident and assured. If she cried now, it would show during the party, which she’d have self-sabotaged. Today, Sarah would ensure her friend’s face only looked happy, laughing, and bright.
I’ll just have to keep her laughing. It’s one of the things I do best.
“I hate to break it to you, Jules, but George is one. He’s very likely to do something incredibly inappropriate. Unless it’s suddenly appropriate for guests of honor to use their nappy whenever they like.”
