Rory:

I didn't want to go home just yet, that hell hole could wait a bit longer. Instead I decided to ride through my favourite part of Obern Forest. Spring was the best time of the year in my opinion, it represented new life and managed to fill even the darkest parts of the forest with its vibrant colours.

The green leaves above me, a blanket covering the trees, and the new grass a delicate carpet of fine, silken strands. Small twigs crunched under my horse's hooves in a gratifying sound as we leisurely rode between the thick trunks and undergrowth.

The quietness soothed my tired mind as I began to near my favourite spot in the forest. Suddenly, a short, female-sounding scream came from somewhere to my right. I swivelled my head to try to better determine where the shout had come from and began to ride faster. I raced through the thinning trees until two figures on horseback, very close to one another, came into view.

I had never seen the man before but I would recognise that girl anywhere. He was grabbing her waist and kissing her ferociously, then I noticed her tiny fists attempting to push him off her and the tears running down her face. I felt a strange tug inside of me as I saw the tears cascading down her face. "Get your filthy hands off her!" I growled at the man.

My blood was boiling, I was disgusted by that man, whoever he was. He immediately released her and I watched as she instantaneously galloped off. I rode up to the man and with all my strength, punched him in the face.

What right had he to molest a woman in such a way? After I had calmed down, I approached him again as he nursed his bruised face, a small trickle of red beginning to ooze from his forehead. I felt like striking the man again but before I could lift my fist again, he spoke.

"And who are you boy?" His sneering voice was menacing and I felt my earlier boldness begin to leave me.

"I am the son of the Duke of Wortley and a..." Cecilia and I hated each other's guts but I could hardly say that, "A friend of that young woman, so I would be on my guard if I were you." I responded, feeling my courage return a bit as I told him who I was. A brief look of apprehension flashed through his eyes at my status then they returned to their original sharp leer.

"A friend of Cecilia's, is that so?" He questioned. He knew who she was? I had never seen or heard of the man before, how did he know her? A series of questions tumbled through my mind.

"How did you come by such an acquaintance with Cecilia?" I asked, shocked at the revelation.

"We were very close friends when we were younger," He said, a smile playing slowly on his lips. "I assisted her with," his face looked slightly pained, "you know..." He finished. What was he talking about, and if they were such 'close friends' why would he assault her in such a way?

"No, I don't know, you aided her how?" I asked feeling rather puzzled by everything that I had just learnt. One second the man was forcing himself upon her, and the next he was speaking fondly of her and their past. At my comment a large smile floated onto his face, replacing the earlier scowl.

"Oh you don't know?" His smile only increasing, "I would have thought she would have told you, I guess not." Now my curiosity had been roused, what did this man know about Cecilia that I did not? I was pretty sure that the rest of our friends didn't know her little secret either.

"What don't I know that Cecilia supposedly hasn't told me?" I pressed him, willing him to enclose her secret to me. He looked at me with a look that I nearly mistook for pity.

"Everything." He simply replied.

**********

I had left Obern Forest far behind me and was now stood in front of my estate. My mind was still reeling from my conversation with that man, Edward Perth was the name he had given.

I was determined to find out what dirty little secret Cecilia had kept so closely guarded as to not let her friends in on it. I kicked my horse's side and hastened towards the imposing manor house. I knew my father would be home by now as it was approaching evening and dinner would soon be served.

The sky had begun to turn a dusty pink and orange in the evening light. Soft clouds grazed the foreground of the sky as a velvety blanket of indigo began to descend slowly upon it. The glowing sun began to sink lower and lower over the horizon, stealing the light from the village and its surroundings, replacing it with a welcome darkness.

A few stars began to emerge from the inky depths, twirling and twinkling through the advancing blackness. Lights illuminated the house, and made it stand out against the swirling darkness that had managed to successfully engulf the surrounding area.

When I arrived at the house I was greeted by numerous servants, to take my overcoat and hat, to lead my horse to the stables, to inform me of my father's whereabouts, to notify me of the progress of the crops and workers and whatever other snippets of information they felt I ought to know.

I smiled politely at all of them and nodded my head to whatever they were saying but I was too tired to really be thinking about the running of the estate. I excused myself and entered my father's study to find him sat behind the large mahogany desk, a glass of brandy in his hand.

"Father," I acknowledged, he merely grunted in response. I stood for a few seconds by the door before he gestured to the plush, red velvet chair positioned in front of his desk. I moved slowly towards his hand indicating the seat before him with uncertainty.

Something from the way he appeared slightly nervous, his hands twitching faintly, his heels clicking together and the poorly concealed pained look on his face made me realise that something was most definitely not right.

My father was never one to show weakness in any form, that was the one lesson he had drilled into me from a young age; weakness was the worst of the worst. It had become my biggest fear and I had tried to mask my feelings, to hide everything behind a facade of concrete confidence and impassivity.

Over time, a layer of stone had managed to encase my heart, a once beautiful thing had become an ugly grey rock, carved into a hideous gargoyle. I had tried so hard to become the unforgiving, unfeeling man my father was and I had succeeded, but I wasn't happy.

He had turned me into his own callous machine, a hideous copy of himself. I was taught to let no one in, for they would only turn on me in the end, or at least that was what he had told me.

I gazed up at the draconian man sat opposite me, he cleared his throat, the action appearing strained.

"Now my boy," he laughed uncomfortably, almost apprehensively as if still undecided about some matter. What could have possibly happened to warrant such a response? My father had neverbeen one to use affection yet he had just referred to me as 'my boy'. Something awful must have happened, but what?

"What is it father?" I asked rather agitatedly, his evasiveness was bothering me, why couldn't he just get to the point?

"You are engaged to be married son..." He said, looking up at me with a hopeful look. Engaged to be... married? I shook my head, no, this wasn't happening. I was only just twenty, what was the rush? Why now? Who?

His tone had suggested that that wasn't even the worst of it. Oh god, what if she was some ugly hag! Then it struck me, my father couldn't dictate who I married anymore, I was a man, a gentleman no less and I was the sole one in control of my future. I laughed out loud at the simple discovery.

"You can't make me marry anyone father." I replied plainly. A proud smile upon my face. My father shot me a nervous glance from across his desk.

"Well Rory, I'm afraid you will have to. The estate depends upon it. You have to marry the girl if you don't want Clampton to fall into ruin. Of course, it doesn't have too much of an impact on me, but you are the next Duke of Wortley. It would be a shame to see all the hard work put into running the place for so long extinguished over such a trivial matter as marriage." I let out an exasperated sigh at this last revelation on my father's behalf.

What had I done to deserve such a punishment. I stared into my father's defeated looking eyes. Lines marred his old skin, dark bags had pushed themselves out under his eyes, his cheekbones sticking out more prominently than usual and his face a sickly ash colour.

I couldn't let all of his work and my own go to ruin just because I had refused to marry some girl. How bad could she be? I wouldn't need to see her, the house was so big I was sure I could manage to find a way to avoid her on a day to day basis.

I nodded my head solemnly at my father, I would have to sacrifice this small detail of my life for the livelihood of the men who depended on our fields. For my father and everything he had achieved and for my dying mother.

"Why has it come to this?" I asked, regarding his face carefully. He bowed his head in shame and started to relate the events of three days before.

"Twas the night your mother took a turn for the worse," he started. "There had been a crop failure that month as well. I decided to go down to the Oak and Rose for a drink, after I had been sat there for some time another man approached me. He bought me several more drinks and he listened to me whilst I spilt my fears about your mother." I shook my head silently as I began to put the pieces together for myself.

"Go ahead," I urged him, wanting to hear it from him first. My father looked at me, a hopeless look had taken over his eyes and he looked disappointed in himself, something I had never seen on his face before. I listened closely as my father recalled how he had gambled away the estate to this man in a hand of cards. I pinched the bridge of my nose, so I had guessed correctly.

"He told me that the only alternative was if you were to marry his daughter." My father sunk further into his chair as he chanced a look up at me. I had begun to agitatedly pace the length of the room. My mind was swimming with thoughts and questions, who was this woman? Why was her father so desperate to get rid of her? She must truly be a witch...

Angered by my father's idiocy I kicked the desk forcibly, he gave a small jump and moved his hand to his heart.

"Now now, calm down son," he spoke, all authority however had drained from his voice. I took a few deep breaths, I was doing this for the good of the estate and my position, I never had to see her, it had to be done, it would be alright. I consoled my tired mind as it continued to swirl.

"One last question," I asked the greying man before me, "Who is she?"

My churning mind stopped immediately and a numbness came over me as I heard my father whisper, "Cecilia Longsworth," he bent his head, "The Duke of Calpington's daughter." I let out a low growl.

"Yes father, I know who's daughter she is." I ground out. Of all the women in England I had to marry Cecilia. What had I done to deserve this punishment? Admittedly I wasn't going to be tied down to an ugly hag, but I would have to live with the obnoxious brat for the rest of my life. I shivered slightly at the thought.

"Just my luck," I snarled quietly to myself. I turned back to face my father, "If that is all sir, I will retire to my room now." My father nodded his head without looking at me and, still seething, I strode out of the dark study and up the staircase to my bedroom.

Hello all!

Here's chapter two for you - hope you enjoy it! We're edging closer to the exciting parts so stick with me please until then! Please vote and comment!

Much love

(Picture of Sam Claflin as Rory)

xxx