Anthony Wilson stared angrily at the depleted state of his father's fortune, before slamming the account book shut, and rising to his feet. There was only one man that could be held responsible for this, and that man was now buried six foot under —the duke of Leeds.

Anthony blamed the duke for everything; ruining his father, and eventually killing him. It was no coincidence that his father was dead, or that the duke —after promising to pay for the debt owed to his father by allowing Anthony marry his daughter, proved to be nothing but a liar and a thief— stole the contract proving he owed anything to his father.

Shamed and broke, Anthony was forced to leave England for a few months in hopes that he would somehow recover all of his father's lost fortune. After living in Scotland for several months and achieving nothing, he was left with no other choice but to return to England. His plan had been to force the duke's hand by seducing his daughter. Not only would it make for a great scandal for the daughter of the duke to wind up pregnant before marriage, it would be a slap on his massive ego.

His plan was in full swing, he returned to England indeed and was on his wagon that evening, when he saw her; Lady Bianca. At first, the evening made it almost impossible to recognize her as she wobbled through the streets. But as he neared, he suddenly recognized her. He had seen her a few times when he visited the duke to demand payment for the money owed his father in the past. There was also a few balls he had spotted her, and although she wasn't as beautiful as her sister, she was pleasant to look at, and her husband was entitled to the title —given the fact that she was the duke's first child.

She was drunk, he frowned, jumping down the side of his wagon, as he observed her less than graceful movement through the streets. He wondered what she was doing outside all alone in the middle of the night, but the thought was quickly pushed aside by another thought; he could take her. He could carry her home with him and seduce her there... No, he shook his head, knowing she would most likely want nothing to do with a kidnapper. What then, could he do?

He followed her quietly behind for several minutes, realizing she was most likely lost. Her eyes darted from left to right, and there were several instances where she nearly tripped on her dress.

He would most likely never get this opportunity to be alone with her again, he thought, his eyes falling on a stick that laid on the ground underneath a tree as they walked past the park. He could force himself on her. It was a sinister thought, but his hands were tied. He would take her against her will, and once she winds up pregnant, he would simply take responsibility for it, forcing the duke to approve of their marriage —he would be the next duke of Leeds, by hook or by crook.

Halting in his tracks, he stepped to the side and picked the stick up. It was heavy, but not heavy enough to leave a bruise. Heaving a nervous breath, he covered the distance between them and swung the stick, hitting her on the back of her head.

A loud gasp escaped her lips, her body falling to the ground.

“I'm sorry, my lady, I have no choice.” He whispered, leaning down over her.

*

The second Anthony met Lady Bianca, he regretted his decision to hurt her like he did. It wasn't her fault her father was the devil, neither was it her debt to pay, but her father's.

There was something about her —he thought, sitting across from her in her drawing room as he inquired about her husband— that intrigued him. Something that made him want to see her again. Perhaps it was the knowledge that his crime against her wasn't just useless —because the duke was dead and she was married, a fact he didn't know on the evening he ruined her— but also because she wasn't pregnant? At least, that was what he came to confirm. Her stomach looked perfectly normal, and she appeared quite normal. Or perhaps it was because he felt cheated; it was he who deserved to be the next duke, it was he who deserved to be her husband. No doubt, she would have married him if her father didn't stand in the way. And her husband? The bastard had gotten to her before Anthony had the chance. Rumor had it that they had been caught in bed together —the bastard seduced her.

Race Belington was unworthy of her. He was unworthy of being her husband, and he was especially unworthy of being the one to bring forth the heir that would take the title.

Still, it wasn't Race Belington's unworthiness that upset Anthony, it was his unwillingness —proving to be as conning and cruel as the duke— to pay back the money owed to Anthony's father.

Charged by rage, Anthony was unbelieving when luck smiled on him, and he was given another chance to shame not only the duke, but his bastard in-law; he would seduce Lady Bianca in a public ball. It wasn't that he planned it, it was that he had gone over to Camden's dinner in hopes of talking to Mr. Belington once again. He hoped he could convince him to consider paying the money owed. Then, he saw Lady Bianca leave the room with Camden's wife —a woman whose reputation was less than honorable— and curious, he followed them.

He waited in the hallways for several minutes. Because the door to the guest room was wide open, he heard the conversation between the two women, immediately knowing Lady Bianca was ill. It was then the thought hit him, and as soon as her ladyship left the room, he went in.

*

Scrambling to her knees, Bianca stared wide eyed at the stranger as she gathered the sheets in her hands and tied them around herself as if to protect her naked body from the view of others, even if she was fully dressed. The truth was, she was desperate to cover her shame.

“Forgive us, my lady, we should have been more discreet. But surely this can be kept between us? It is not uncommon for women —married or not— to have lovers, yourself inclusive. You cannot judge Lady Bianca so harshly.” His words made Bianca feel even more light headed than she felt when she first came up to the room.

Gasping, she clung to the bed frame for dear life. She shook her head. “I have no idea who you are.”

He turned fully to her, and she immediately recognized him; Lord Anthony Wilson. Still, she couldn't admit to knowing him, could she? Surely Lady Beatrice would think her nothing but a harlot, for she was caught in bed with another man! What excuse did she have, that she didn't know it wasn't her husband?! That in a confused state, she sought to be intimate with her husband in the home of another man?! Who would believe her?!

And this man before her, who was he? Who, other than the name she knew him as, was he? Why was he carrying on a falsehood? Why did he seem bent on ruining her?

With tears springing to her eyes, her body trembled slightly as she turned wide eyed to Lady Beatrice.

“M— my lady...”

“Leave us.” A deep frown dented her face, her eyes fixed on Bianca as she addressed the maid. “Find my husband, inform him his attention is needed up here immediately.”

The blood immediately drained from Bianca's face the second the implications of Lady Beatrice's words hit her; soon, her shameful act would be exposed to the world, and nobody would believe her innocence... Especially Race.