The Duke's Gamble by Elyse Huntington Page B

give me to this man as if I am a sack of coal.”
    “It is done. You are my daughter and you do not have a say in this matter.”
    Bella gave him an incredulous look, uncaring that she was showing her temper when she normally had the calmest of dispositions. “I do not have a say? You are giving me to a complete stranger! What do you suppose the duke plans to do with me? Do you think he wants me to dust his bedchamber? Perhaps I am to shine his boots. Oh, I know. He must be in need of someone to read to him. Did you tell him how much I love reading?” Her voice rose, becoming louder as she spoke. And although her fists were clenched, she could barely feel the pain biting into her palms. She had tried so hard to keep their house, their very livelihood intact, for them and the small band of servants she considered her family, and it had all been in vain. There would be no hope for Mrs Lane, Wordsworth the butler, Smithy the elderly footman, or her sixteen-year-old maid, Ellie.
    Her father’s lips tightened in displeasure. “ Enough! ” he said sharply. “Go and pack your things. Avalon’s carriage will arrive tomorrow.”
    “What if I were to say no?” She hated that her voice shook. Hated that her father had put her in this position. Hated that he did not love her as a father should.
    In that moment, she thought she might actually hate him.
    “Do not try me, daughter. I will drag you into that carriage myself if I have to,” hissed the earl, his tone threatening.
    Bella wanted to scream, leap up and pummel her fists against her father’s chest. But she didn’t. It wasn’t in her nature to do so. Besides, it would achieve nothing. There was no escaping the arrangement unless she were to run away. And she would never abandon the servants. It was best if she just resigned herself to what was to happen. It was only temporary, after all.
    Her father’s eyes narrowed. “You are to reside at his Gloucestershire estate for three months. Although once he sets eyes on you, he might well change his mind.”
    Bella gritted her teeth at his insinuation. She knew that he thought her plain. Her inability to attract a single offer of marriage in the two years she had been out in society appeared to prove him right. She was no beauty but she thought her clear grey eyes were quite agreeable, and her complexion was passable. Mrs Lane used to tell her that her beauty was the quiet, unassuming type and that it would take the right man to see her for what she was. Well, it appeared that even if the right man did come along, it would be too late.  
    She was shortly to find herself completely and irrevocably ruined.

Chapter 2

    Bella stood, frozen with a mixture of awe and fear, staring up at the immense staircase before her. She was the daughter of an earl; an earl whose estate had once been prosperous. She had had two seasons in town, been invited to the residences of dukes and marquesses. Never, in her entire life, had she seen anything so magnificent.  
    The staircase was made of pink Italian marble, the gild-edged banisters decorated with angels and cupids in various poses. The stairs appeared to continue infinitely, and she wondered how many levels there were in the house. She stifled a laugh. House? This was no house. It was a palace. The entry hall alone held twelve footmen, all dressed in stark black livery.
    “Lady Arabella?”
    She started at the sound of her name. Turning around, she saw a tall, stern-faced man with a barrel chest, his dark brown hair streaked with silver.  
    “My name is Beecham, and I am His Grace’s butler. Follow me, if you please,” he said, indicating the stairs.  
    “W-wait. My bags.”  
    Beecham cast an eye at the two woefully worn leather cases by her side, containing a few gowns and her most precious possessions. Six books. Everything else in their small library was gone. Sold.
    “They will be brought to your bedchamber.”
    Bella followed Beecham up the stairs, her heart pounding