Page 8 of The Duke’s Wager

She knew that her father was proud of her. Her beauty and intelligence made her someone to look up to in their circles. She knew too, however, that he preferred her staying at home with the cook and the maid. From a young age, she had been told that she was far too precious for crowds. He feared that they would tear her down if given the chance, and he wanted her protected at all costs.

As such, Lucy stayed out of reach – even on the rare occasion that she engaged with the ton. She remained slightly aloof at all times, for fear of the cruelty her father had warned her about.

She was barely an adolescent when he had called her into his study. His face, as always, stern and serious.

“Lucy,” he had said in a grave voice, “you are growing up and turning into quite the beautiful young lady.”

Her first instinct was to thank him, but for some reason she had decided against it, merely watching him with wide eyes.

“You will soon be required to participate in the engagements of the season where you will have no choice but to socialize with different kinds of people. I want you to remember that you are better than them.”

In her innocence, she had wanted to ask what he meant, but she was afforded no such opportunity.

“The ton is dangerous, my darling daughter.” He had smiled at this – an odd look for him – but Lucy did not care. He had called her his darling daughter, and that never failed to make her feel special and loved.

He had continued a long rant, forbidding her from engaging with certain people and warning her against most of the ton. “I say this, not to instill fear in you, but to protect you.” He had gone on about how cruel people could be, and he had effectively terrified her.

As a child, his rules had made her feel safe. Now, however, they angered her. Without even realizing that she was doing it, she pursed her lips angrily.

Due to her father’s fear-mongering, she felt cut off from everyone her age. She had virtually no friends, and the very same people she had kept at a distance as an adolescent now turned their backs on her. Of course, she could not blame them. Lucy glanced up at her father, who stared out in front of him blankly.

She was nothing more than a pretty trophy in a glass cage.

“You ought to be careful,” he suddenly stated.

“Careful?”

Henry nodded sternly.

“It is the first engagement of the season, and all eyes will be on you. There is not a lady in this city who could hold a candle to you, but you have to make sure you do not give the ton any reason to tear you down.”

Lucy wanted to scream that she did not care about being torn down, that she had not wanted to attend the ridiculous event to begin with. Instead, she bit her lip and nodded, her eyes downcast.

“Yes, father.”

“Do not engage in frivolous conversation.”

Lucy had to suppress a groan. It was the start of the speech she would receive without fail every season, and by now, she knew the rules by heart. Yet she did not speak – she merely listened as her father recited, answering now and then to prove that she was paying attention.

“Always smile politely, but not too wide, and do not laugh loudly.”

“Yes, father.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased with her demure answer.

“Do not talk back or get into a confrontation with anyone. If they say something you disagree with, for the love of God, nod and smile.”

Lucy nodded with a forced smile. The irony of this was lost on her father, she realized.

“Yes, father.”

“Do not give unnecessary information to anyone, no matter how kind or caring they seem. There are people at this court who would like nothing more than to see the fall of the Beaumont family. We will not make it easy for them, do you understand me?”

He suddenly sounded almost scared, and Lucy nodded quickly.

“Yes, father.”

“Our reputation is all we have, Lucy. I cannot overstate how important our good name is.”