London, 1845

Five years later

Deaths were solemn occasions but they weren't lonely ones. Usually, a fragile system of support and love entwined those who had lost a beloved with those who didn't and all of a sudden, it didn't feel so lonely anymore.

But the death of social respect was where loneliness thrived. Sophia drowned in it, the only thing keeping her going being her duty to her sisters to give them a brighter future.

Sophia's hand traced the edge of her dressing table, feeling the soft wood beneath her oval-shaped nails. She stopped in front of the mirror that had collected dust over the years, leaving her reflection a shimmery mirage on its surface.

Her reflection gazed at her, almost accusatorily.
Why do I see such sorrow tightening your eyes? Why do I see your lips slightly downturned? Your face gaunter and sharper? Where has the Sophia from five years gone? It seemed to ask, for which Sophia did not have an answer.

Only then did it strike her that it had indeed been five whole years since her big scandal—time had run and left her in its dust.

A soft knock on her ajar door had Sophia turning towards it to see her sister Jeanne.

"Sophia? A letter for you." Jeanne's soft voice cried out. Sophia grabbed it from her outstretched fingertips.

"Thank you, Jeanne."

Jeanne smiled and Sophia watched her leave the room, just as quietly as she had come in. Jeanne was very different from how Colette had been at the age of nine summers. Shy and soft where Colette had been loud and bold, gentle and understanding where her sister was demanding and brash.

Sophia then looked at the letter in her hand, running her finger over the red wax sealing it. Using a small knife on her dressing table, she pried the seal open.

Dear Sophia,

I hope this letter finds you well and as soon as one could hope. You are aware it was with great difficulty that I made my mother agree to allow me to chaperone Colette in her debutante period, after your letter pleading me to do so. For the past few weeks, Colette has been the spotlight of the season and men have been ensnared in her beauty. I am sure she will find a suitable suitor, but under your chaperonage, not mine.

My dear father-in-law has just departed from this earth and my husband and I must leave for Scotland immediately. It may take us some time to return to London and therefore, I cannot guide dear Colette in her debutante period. I know it is quite sudden, but I cannot hand over this responsibility to anyone but you. My mother refused to do so herself and forbade anyone in my family from aiding yours either.

I know that you face social disgrace and I wish there was some alternative, but I do not want Colette's debutante period to be a disaster. I know you have been training her to be a model wife these past few years, training her to not run into a scandal so she may be the saving grace of your family. I have faith that she will be so with your help.

Colette will continue her debutante duties in your home, henceforth and will arrive there shortly in the carriage I have sent for her. With her, she will bring her clothes for her season and her jewels—including some for you as well as her chaperone.

I have asked my brother to inform the good lords and ladies of London of this change in venue, but have asked him to not mention the chaperone change. That you must do. I am aware that Colette was to receive a caller today and he will be arriving in your home today. I did not have a chance to read the addressor but I have a feeling he may be the one to win my cousin's hand. She seems quite besotted with this mysterious man. Be rest assured Colette will succeed where you failed. Stay strong and aid her.

I wish you well and my sincerest apologies once more.

Alessandra

The hand that held the letter trembled and the paper fell to the floor like a feather. Sophia stumbled to her bed and sat on the edge with her head spinning.

She...she was to chaperone Colette? She could not! Her aunt had barred her from ever entering society again. It was indeed with great difficulty that Colette was accepted into London's fold rather than wading in the shame of her sister for the rest of her life. If Sophia chaperoned her, all chances of Colette finding a husband would dissipate. The Brighton name was already stained, and only Colette's charm and beauty had kept her afloat from the whispers that surely surrounded her every time there was an event held for her. Alessandra's influence and power were also what captured the attention of suitors.

That would not be the case if Sophia was the chaperone—a woman with neither fortune nor power. No family would want to be associated with her. Perhaps the suitor coming today would take one look at her and leave, not wanting to be associated with a fallen woman and her sister, however beguiling she was.

Sophia put her head in her hands, tears unwillingly dripping down her cheeks. All these years, all that time and effort in perfecting Colette's manners to woo men would now spiral into nothing.

The sound of glass crashing from five years past resounded in her ear. The night her reputation was destroyed---she had never seen her father that mad. Glasses went flying everywhere and he kept screaming while her head was bowed and she clutched her cream skirts wanting it to stop.

Her father had been enraged at her for ruining his alliance and had threatened to disown her and her sisters, cast them to the streets. It was only her promise that she would make sure Colette would find a wealthy suitor, that he would get what he was owed, that made sure they had a roof to cover their heads. That, and she gave up her dowry to pay some of his debts.

But now...

Another knock came on her door and Sophia looked up to see the pinched face of Jenkins sneering at her. "My lady. Your sister arrived a few moments ago, claiming her suitor was to come calling soon. May I ask what she meant, my lady? I was not aware we were receiving your sister or her suitors."

Sophia took in a deep breath. If this was to be her fate, so be it. She would do her best to help her sister get a husband. Her chance was long gone, but Colette would not suffer the same fate.

"Well, yes, Jenkins. Lady Alessandra has handed the responsibility of Colette's season to me, having to leave London for a family emergency. I just found out in the letter she has sent. I will be handling Colette's debutante affairs, henceforth. We will receive all the callers in this home. So, tell Lizzy to prepare some tea and biscuits. Colette's caller will be arriving shortly."

Jenkins ran his stony gaze over her. He then bowed stiffly and left the room murmuring to himself and shaking his head.

This was truly happening. Sophia took one more breath to steady her erratic heart. She would have to face the London crowd soon—a fearful thing indeed when her only company these past few years had been her sisters and her books; many many books. Yet, loneliness despite how horrid it was, had a strange thing of making people stronger, and that was exactly what Sophia had become: strong. She could face anything.

Turning towards the mirror, she smoothed down her periwinkle blue gown. It wasn't her best but still beautiful and brought out her eyes. It was from her debutante period. She quickly fastened a simple necklace around her neck and brushed her hair—raven hair that had become long and thicker over the ears to fall in loose ringlets around her face. Her cheeks flushed pink when she pinched it. Dabbing her fingers in a colored salve, she applied it over her lips and a little over her eyes—restoring her pale face with some color.

Right at that moment, she could hear Jenkins announcing the suitor.

Taking one last, long look at the mirror and deciding she was ready, Sophia made her way to the parlor. Her gown floated behind her like a soft cloud as she elegantly made her way down the stairwell, as poised and confident as she could be... until she saw the man at the bottom of the staircase. In the blink of an eye, her feet fumbled on the steps and she flew towards the ground, her arms flailing in the air. She could see the floor coming closer and closer to her face. She shut her eyes tightly, bracing for the hard fall to come, yet it never did.

Recognizing her immediate distress, the Marquess of Alton had stepped forward and caught her by her waist, preventing a horrible crash. Using his steady, muscular and strong arms, she righted herself. For several seconds she held her head bowed, flushed with embarrassment and too mortified by her fall to look up.

Too mortified or too shocked that her past had come back to haunt her?

Eventually, the Marquess of Alton raised his groomed fingers and tilted her chin up so that they were forced to look at each other. Although he was on a step two below hers, their faces were at the same height, barred from touching by mere inches of air. He removed his fingers that were tucked under her chin but a ghost of it still seemed to linger there, teasing her with its sensuality.

"Are you all right, my lady?" He whispered and tilted his head to the side in query.

Sophia was too shocked to respond. All she could do was stare at those thick lashes that fringed the captives of her heart's desires and then gazed into that endless depth of forest green and moss, emeralds and jades. In mere seconds, the void in her life that Sophia had become accustomed to, filled rapidly with a thousand feelings and emotions. Desire. Happiness. Passion. Love.

Love?

Sophia could feel her heart racing and her breath coming out in gasps. Five years. It had been five years since she saw him, yet he invoked the same sensations in her. He shouldn't be able to. She had closed her heart off to anyone, to life, plodding through it because of duty. But in seconds, the Marquess of Alton had unwound the knots that wrapped around her heart, broken down the walls she had constructed herself. In mere seconds, he had made her feel...alive one more.

The pit at the bottom of her stomach at that thought could only be fear.

She knew she shouldn't look, but her eyes kept darting to those luscious curves of pink on his face and how it would feel melded against her own mouth. As if he heard her thoughts, Lord Alton smiled a devilish grin, twin dimples appearing on either side of his face, still as adorable as she once remembered. But those dimples were now covered by a layer of hair.

He had grown a beard. If she thought he looked handsome back then, he just looked ever more dashing now. The years had changed him as well, making him even more sculpted and rugged, and Sophia wanted to feel his beard prickling her skin when he kissed her, feel its roughness burn her skin.

Kissed her?

Tingles of desire began to travel down Sophia's spine and she curled her toes as tingles speared through her. She could feel herself being pulled towards him, her head unwillingly moving closer to his. He started to move towards her as well, his lips slightly parted as if anticipating the touch of her lips against his own.

All these years she was lying to herself that he meant nothing to her, that she had forgotten him. That there had been nothing between them—after all, he had admitted to using her.

How much ever you tried, you could make a lie seem like the truth, but not the truth seem like a lie. There was just too much behind that truth to possibly lie about.

However, she could not face all that heartbreak again. The pain. The shame at her actions and herself. But mostly the hurt that churned under it all.

She was ready to face anything but him.

"You. What are you doing here?" Sophia moved away first, stepping up one stair and then another, grabbing the banisters until her knuckles turned white.

"I- "

"No. No, don't answer that." Suddenly, rage plundered her heart and soul and burned through her—rage at him for abandoning her when she needed him, for leaving her to face her shame by herself. Anger at him for not doing the right thing, but mostly anger at herself because even after all these years he could still twist her into knots and make her heart stutter. It came in a torrent, sweeping her away.

She tilted her chin upward, giving him the iciest glare, she could. "I told you once before and you didn't listen. I am saying it again. Leave. I never want to see you again."

He reached up as if he was going to grab her hand and she flinched away.

"Angel-"

"Don't call me that." Despite herself, her heart missed a beat.

His laugh was the same.

"That isn't a jest. I ask you once again, politely, to leave. You have caused enough hurt to me," she paused and corrected herself, "my family. We don't need more."

"That is why I am here, Lady Brighton. To make things right."

That made her snap. "Make things right?! Where were you five years ago when you left me alone to..." her voice cracked and she slowly backed away from him, trying to calm herself down. "Please, Lord Herrick. Leave."
"It's Lord Alton now."

"What lord you are, my lord, I still only ask of you one thing. Please, leave." She turned, hoping to flee in a dignified manner when she felt something grab her hand. Turning, she saw Lord Herrick...no Alton, giving her a soulful glance.

"My lady---"

"I am not your anything." She pulled her hands from his.

"Yes, because he is to be mine."

Colette's words made the room tumble into silence and Sophia growled at Alton. She looked between Colette and Alton and suddenly her face brightened with understanding.

"First you ruin me and then my sister as well. Seducing both of us was a game, wasn't it? You were biding your time all these years to cause me more pain, for what reason, I don't know." Sophia's eyes were twin pillars of fire. "Do you plan to not marry Colette as well?"

"No, I- "

Sophia let out a string of words that a lady should never say under her breath, ending it with, "It's true, isn't it? You bastard."

And then she slapped him with every ounce of strength she could muster. 

Whew! Sophia's one bitter woman! Do you agree with what she did? Was she in the right? What do you think Blake is really here for?

Readers! Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter! Be sure to vote, comment and share it with others! Every single thing means the world to me! I love you all!