Darius was not the only uncomfortable confrontation in store for Sophia that day.

As soon as she stepped through the threshold of her house, a surprise greeted her which made her stop dead in her tracks. Her father lay sprawled lazily across the length of the couch, facing them sideways. He sipped on a drink that sloshed inside the glass, the sunlight fracturing the amber liquid. Her laughter died a quick death, Colette's following suit.

Lowering her voice, Sophia prodded Colette towards the stairs. "Upstairs. Now. Go to Jeanne's room and stay there until I come. Make sure Jeanne doesn't venture downstairs, and you do not as well."

Blades were not as sharp as that tone for it was one that broke no argument. Colette immediately listened and scampered away.

Sophia tucked her stray raven curls behind her ears and smoothened out her dress before slowly walking towards her father. She bent down to kiss his cheek. "Father."

No greeting came from him. She stood next to the armrest of his chair, waiting for him to explain his presence. It had been weeks since he had come home.

He smelled like sweat and alcohol that had gone sour, his clothes were disarrayed and his eyes were dilated and glazed. Sophia tried to not breathe as much as possible, but holding in her breath meant her corset clutched at her skin like a desperate lover. But even that pain of the string was better than the odor that waved off her father, causing the contents in her stomach to tumble.

"Where have you been?" Finally, a low grumble came from his chest.

"The market, Father."

"Why?"

"To buy our weekly vegetables and fruits, Father."

"Don't we have servants to do that, girl?"

Was he really that oblivious?
"No, Father. Many of the servants left because we could not pay their salary." Because you spent it on gambling. The words hung between them.

He harrumphed and then said sarcastically, "Where did you get the money to buy the fruits from then?"

Careful, you are on dangerous territory, Sophia's mind cautioned. The rent for this month had not yet come, so it was her mother's money she had used to buy today's food. But her father could not know that. She would only have to hope he wasn't aware of the due dates of the tenants' rents.

"Rent, Father, that I collected from our tenants."

The sudden movement of his hand through the air caused her to flinch away from him, thinking he meant to hurt her. Yet, he only reached across her to pull the bottle of bourbon from the small table next to them.

"I see."

"What brings you here, Father?"

He suddenly lurched up and pounced towards her. Sophia stumbled back, barely managing to not fall.

"Does something need to bring me here for me to come to my own house?" he hissed at her, his eyes kindling in rage. Sophia stilled, looking him staunchly in the eye, refusing to submit. Years ago, she had learned that meeting him head to head was the only way he would eventually back down.

She swore her heart was going to pound out of her chest with its erratic rhythm, the longer they stared each other down. Her heartbeat was as fast as, or perhaps even faster than a hummingbird's.

Never be intimidated.

"No, Father, of course not." A flash of pride surged through her for she had kept her voice from trembling.

He sipped his drink again and then ran his fingers through his balding hair. "I came today to tell you that I managed to obtain some horseflesh, for winning a card game. I have sold it and added the money to increase the dowries of your sister and yourself. This will increase your value in the marriage market when you have your season."

"Thank you, Father." Do you plan to take this money as well, later? She wanted to ask, but she smartly kept quiet.

He suddenly grabbed her, his eyes wide and his tone holding undercurrents of panic. "I need you to get married as soon as possible to a rich lord. That's why I have increased your dowry. I need...I need the money. I... I have too many debts to clear. This dowry only exists as long as you serve my purpose."

"Father, I still have a couple more years before I can be presented to society to find a suitor. I cannot do so now. Why not use the money from the horseflesh now to settle your debts, and save money for my dowry later?"

He snorted under his breath and curled his lips. "I was to do that, indeed, but a treasured friend of mine advised me to not do so. It seemed he had done the same, and by the time the marriageability of his daughter came around, his accounts were too depleted for a dowry. Everyone refused to marry her, and he lost what wealth she could have brought him. I shall not follow in his footsteps."

He suddenly shoved her aside and threw his drink across the room. It shattered against the wall with a resounding crash, the amber liquid staining it. Glass bits flew everywhere. Sophia's breath came out as shorter gasps, and her muscles clenched as she wondered what he was to do next. He rounded on her like a feral animal.

"Useless. Absolutely worthless, all females, like my associate's daughter. You, your sisters. Every one of you lot! Do you think time is a luxury I have, to wait for you to aid me?"

"I am sure you will figure it out, Father. And a few years from now, I will surely help you." Sophia bit the inside of her cheek as he towered over her with his hand raised, to prevent herself from crying out.

He dropped his hand and hissed. "I have until next week, not a few years to settle some of my debts. Do you hear me? I do not have time. Everything is slipping from my grasp again. Again! I settle one debt, and another replaces it!" He kicked the chair of the dining table, and it clattered to the floor, the sound echoing through the room.

Sophia flinched. How had her mother endured years and years of this, this madness, this hysteria?

She hadn't. He had killed her.

Even now, every time she saw her father, her hatred for him would bloom—he had killed her mother after all. He had taken her away from everyone. Sophia didn't think she could ever forgive him. It was a blessing he didn't come home much, for every time she saw him, she had to stop herself from clawing his eyes out; she had to pretend that everything was all right. She had to keep his secret to protect her siblings.

Suddenly, a small cry came fluttering down to the room from the direction of the stairs. Both Sophia and William turned towards it to see Jeanne wobbling down the steps, her small hands gripping the banister. Her hair gleamed like burnt copper in the sunlight and her face was scrunched in concentration as she tried to make her way down.

Her small legs suddenly gave out under her and she fell on the steps, crying loudly. Sophia rushed toward her, picked her up and ran a soothing hand down her back to calm her down.

"Shh. Shh. It is all right." Sophia looked up to see Colette and the nursemaid at the top of the stairs with their chests heaving. They had probably run as soon as they noticed Jeanne was missing. They looked down at Sophia, aghast at letting Jeanne loose and its consequences. Sophia inclined her head to let them know it was all right and to leave. They did so immediately.

Footsteps behind her made Sophia turn around, only to come nearly face to face with her father.

"Is that little Jeanne, my daughter?" He smiled showcasing his yellow-toothed grin.

As the rage finally diffused and the alcohol inhibited his senses, his words became more slurry by the moment. They were practically tripping over one another. His hands were empty now, and he stretched them towards Jeanne. "Welcome your father home, little Jeanne."

Jeanne promptly started wailing. Her grey eyes filled up rapidly with tears and ran down her rosy cheek—twin streams of salt and warmth.

The Earls' arms immediately dropped.

"Very well then, little Jeanne. You do not wish to come to me. Your very own father." He roved his gaze over her features. "But again, you might not even be my child, so I understand why you may not wish to come."

Sophia froze at her father words. "What do you mean, Father? She is your daughter."

"Just because she has grey eyes does not mean she is mine."

"Mother was your wife, Father. She has always been faithful to you. She always urged me to demonstrate the same principles. Why would you say such a thing?" Sophia's heart twisted. What was her father saying? Her mother had been the dutiful wife in every sense of the word.

An echo of a time past resounded through her mind. Lord Saxon. Heir. Not his. Enraged. Suspect. Husband.

Did she really believe what she was saying?

"She is not my bairn, dear Sophia. I am almost completely sure of it." He spat her name like a curse. "A few days after your mother's funeral, that despicable Lord Saxon came up to me and told me he knew the truth—that I was the one who killed..." For a moment, this crushing sadness encased him, and then it dissipated.

He let loose a shuddering breath. "He told me that I was a monster for killing her...always had been. That was why she...she had taken comfort in his arms—had been for years. That's why he always tried to better me, to show me that he was the ideal husband for Lilly, not I. He said he would make me pay for what I had done to her, what I took from him." His hand started to tremble furiously and he gripped the banister to steady it.

Jeanne had finally stopped bawling, and she and Sophia took in the Earl cautiously. Was what he said true? Sophia pressed her palm tighter to Jeanne's back, afraid he was going to disown her sister, cast her to her streets.

Nay, she would die before she let any harm come to her sister.

Taking in her horrified expression, he smirked. "Surprised, are you?" He let out a low chuckle. "She is a bastard. Do you know what means? She is illegitimate. She is even more worthless than you lot."

Sophia swallowed, clutching Jeanne tighter to her. "I see, Father. But this man could be lying to spite you."

The Earl let out a shrill, maniacal laugh. "He was not lying. He has the same eyes that," he dug a finger in Jeanne's cheek causing her to whimper, "this worm does. She is his bairn all right."

"You don't know, Father. It could all be a big misunderstanding-"

"Enough! I do not need any more lies, any more soothing as if I were a child. I know it," he beat his chest, "here. I can't even disown her for being a bastard. She deserves to face humiliation on her cheating mother's behalf, but I will not be ridiculed if this gets out."

"Of course, Father."

Thank God. He was saving Jeanne for his own gain, but at least she would not be hurt.

Sophia clutched Jeanne tighter and pressed a kiss on her fiery head. Jeanne cooed and tucked her small arms around Sophia's neck.

A thick, dense silence followed. Finally, he spoke again. "Remember what I said earlier." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then his little daughter's. "Sophia. Jeanne." The slam of the front door indicated he was gone.

Carrying Jeanne upstairs, Sophia saw Colette and the nursemaid huddling together at the end of the hallway. The nursemaid bowed. "I am sorry, my lady. Lady Colette and I were conversing and Lady Jeanne managed to scramble past us to you. We did not wish to chase after her, in case his lord was angered by our appearance."

Sophia wanted to bark at her for shirking her duties, but she simply did not have the energy. Her father's words still lingered in her mind. His confirmation of what she had always suspected since that conversation she had heard between Agatha and her mother over a year ago, wearied her mind. "It is all right." She placed a reassuring palm on the nursemaid's shoulder as she passed by her to carry a now dozing Jeanne to her room.

Sophia tucked her in and then went downstairs again. Righting the dining room chair, she went to the back of the kitchens, to wash the clothes. It was true—she could have paid another remaining servant extra shilling to do so for this was no task for a noblewoman, but where would she run for such money? It was evening by the time she finished washing her clothes and putting away the food from the market in the cabinets.

Her muscles on her back and hands were sore and her bones quivered with strain under her muscles. They screamed for rest so she made her way to her room.

However, her mind refused to slow down, still pulsing and questioning what she had heard that afternoon.

To Sophia, Lillian Brighton has been someone she looked up to, whose words she valued and cherished. But this was the same woman who has told her to respect the sanctity of marriage and had yet produced a child that wasn't her husband's. What else had her mother been false about? Was this what she was trying to tell her about herself and Jeanne as life escaped her? Or was there more to the story?

Taking several deep breaths to calm her racing mind, she threw herself onto the bed and plucked a book from her bedside table. Now was not the time to worry about her mother and her secrets—after all, with her father's own selfish intentions, Jeanne would not be hurt. Nothing had to change.

Sophia soon got drowned in the words of Shakespeare love sonnets, desperately wishing that one day she could be stuck inside one of them. The way Shakespeare's words encapsulated love, made Sophia ache for it more.

One day, surely.

One day.

Darius Shaw could not get the raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty he had met at the market out of his mind. She looked a few years younger than his nineteen summers, so he would have to wait to possess her. But gods how he wanted her from the moment he saw her--looking completely befuddled by her flying food. She would be his, whether she wanted him or not.

He examined himself in the mirror as he adjusted his coat. If she held no fancy for him now, he would make sure she did. This handsome face had wooed many women-- beautiful plentiful women.

Lady Sophia Brighton had not been like most women he had possessed, but her lithe beauty enamored him. The blush that her stolen her cheeks, her smile. He wanted her in his bed, writhing under him, but a woman of her status that matched his own would only come willingly by marriage. So, he would marry her and take her.

He knocked on the door of his father's study and he called out for Darius to enter. Darius bowed to the Duke of Cambury. "Father."

"Yes?" The Duke raised his black, coal eyes to Darius' face, his expression placating.

"I know you wish for me to seek a bride, to get married soon. I think I have found her, the ideal match, Father."

His father stopped his work, putting his entwined hands over his stomach. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Father. Do you know of the Brightons?"

"I know William Brighton, the Earl of Conway. We play cards together sometimes. Why?" His expression remained neutral and bored, yet the slightest bit of interest had spiked up.

"I have set my sights on his daughter. Sophia."

"Isn't she much too young? And furthermore, the Brighton name carries scandal and debts to it."
"Well, we can surely wait a few years, Father. A genteel man like me does not need to be married now, and the wait for her will surely be fruitful. She seems like a woman to bless me with heirs, and her beauty knows no bounds. She will indeed be a prized possession. The debts are no bother for our coffers."

The Duke ran his gaze down Darius' length, cool and distant. "Very well then. I suppose it could be arranged, but her dowry is not one fit for a Duke too."

Darius bent over the desk. "You needn't worry about her dowry, father. I promise you; our children will be prosperous enough. You must make him agree, Father, for I must have her. She is exquisite. She must be mine. Perhaps you can agree to pay his debts? I heard the Earl is floundering currently, and we have the coffers for settling it."

The Duke had never said no to his only son his entire life and he certainly did not disappoint now. "Certainly, Darius. If you say she is to make other men jealous of you, envious she is draped on your arms and not theirs, she might be a worthwhile investment. Anything for my son."

"Thank you, Father. You are too kind." Darius bowed and exited the room, smiling.

It seemed the ever-virtuous Lady Sophia Brighton was to be his wife.

She was to be his. All his.  

A/N: Blegh, William again. It seems he hasn't changed a bit! What do you think of him?

More importantly, Darius seems like a charmer...or not? What do you think of him?

Readers! Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter! Be sure to vote, comment and share it with others! Every single thing means the world to me! I love you all!