Page 1 of The Lady’s Great Escape

Chapter One

April 1809

London

Being summoned to the Marquess of Penbrook’s study was never a small matter. Would her father be in a drunken rage, a sobering depression, or giddy from a streak of luck at the gaming tables?

Lady Celia Dorsett could only hope her younger brother was in the house and could help her deal with whatever waited beyond the door. As the heir, Graham was better suited to manage their father. Though neither of them had managed the man much of late. For he was quite out of control.

With a steadying breath, Celia entered the sparsely furnished room. Her father didn’t seem to care for casual comforts. Not when they could be sold for much needed funds. Forcing a smile on her lips, she felt her body tense when she found him sitting at his desk with a deep crease in his brow.

“Good afternoon, Father,” she greeted him. It was nigh on two o’clock, but it was clear he’d only recently woken. His clothes looked like they’d been picked up from the floor where he’d discarded them the night before, and he’d yet to shave.

Having let his valet go recently had proved a poor decision.

“Sit, sit,” he ordered as he straightened some documents on his desk.

Celia glanced around to find the room empty except for the two of them.

“Will Graham be joining us?” she asked, her nerves making her voice shake slightly. Her father had never harmed her—at least not physically—but he frightened her all the same.

“What? Er… I’m not sure.” He rubbed his forehead.

It appeared he was to be muddled and distraught today. She almost preferred the rage. When her father was muddled and distraught, he tended to make very bad decisions.

“I have a bit of news,” he said and propped a smile on his face. Though ragged and bleary-eyed, the marquess was a handsome man for his age of four and forty. He looked like an older version of Graham who at two and twenty frequently attracted the attention of debutantes, with no plans whatsoever to settle down.

Despite his good looks, her father often appeared harried. As if something was after him. His demons, she suspected. Drink and gambling had taken hold of him years ago. Celia barely remembered the man he once was, back when she and Graham had been small, and their mother was still alive.

But that version of her father had died with her mother, leaving them with this broken shell of a man who appeared to be in constant search of something to ease the pain, and never finding it.

It was no secret the Penbrook finances were in a poor state. For whatever reason, the marquess still managed to earn credit at the tables. She knew her father’s charm would run out eventually. At some point someone would want to collect.

She wasn’t certain what would happen then.

At that moment, Graham came in looking a bit green and unhappy. She hadn’t seen her brother in a few days. She’d warned him constantly of not falling into trouble like their father, but she couldn’t blame him for wanting to have fun with his friends during the Season.

At three and twenty, Celia had never had a season. There hadn’t been any funds. Her father might have left it at that for an excuse, but instead he’d added that he wasn’t willing to spend money on something that was bound to be unsuccessful.

Celia hadn’t minded since she preferred to stay at home with a book rather than attend social functions where she would be put on display and mocked. Still, it stung to be considered a lost cause.

“What is it, Father?” Graham asked as he slouched in the chair next to her. Like her, Gray had dark hair and eyes from their mother. She wondered if her eyes held the same wariness as her brother’s. She imagined so.

“Wonderful news,” her father said. “I’ve found someone to take Celia off my hands despite that deficiency.” He waved his hand in her direction.

That deficiencybeing a birthmark that marred her temple, the corner of her eye and the edge of her cheek. She’d never gotten a full on look at it herself with where it was, but according to her father, it was enough to frighten off any potential suitors.

Celia had thought that perhaps a man who cared for her instead of her looks might be a better option anyway, but she’d never had the opportunity to find out. Outside of Graham’s small group of friends, she’d not met many men.

Unfortunately, the birthmark was the least of her concerns at the moment.

“Take me off your hands?” she questioned, her voice barely a soft squeak.

“We already discussed this and have made other arrangements,” Graham cut in with a lethal tone to his voice. “I said I would marry the heiress you chose for me, so Celia would be spared. We had an agreement.” The last word sounded desperate.

They both knew an agreement with their father wasn’t worth the air used to speak it. His honor had been called out numerous times, though to her knowledge he’d never attended a single dual. Perhaps he’d never bothered to show up.

She reached out to her brother, putting her shaking hand over his. She didn’t know of the plan he’d mentioned, but she wasn’t surprised that Gray would willingly make such a sacrifice for her. And a sacrifice it would be since her brother had vowed never to marry.