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Chapter One

“ T his cannot be happening.” Lady Andrea Cowper, daughter of the Earl of Statton, felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as she stared into the familiar piercing grey eyes of her father, Lord Percival Cowper.

“You need not act so surprised, daughter. After all, I am your Father – I hardly need permission to visit you.” Lord Statton’s lip curled around the word father, as though the reminder was physically unpleasant to him.

Andrea was slightly taller than her father, but years of stooping to hide her “un-womanly” height always made him feel as though he towered over her.

, With some satisfaction, she noticed that the light brown hair on her father’s head appeared to be thinning.

Absently, she touched a hand to the dark blonde hair on her own head, noticing her father’s eyes narrow as she did so.

“Of course you do not, though you have seen very little occasion to do so before now. It has been nearly a year since we last saw one another.” Andrea gritted her teeth.

She had taken great pains to avoid her father in that time. Her father did not even acknowledge the comment as he peered around with the air of a man who had trodden in something unpleasant.

“I was under the impression you had won a rather tidy sum from the Dowager Duchess of Caverton 3 years ago. Why is it that you seem determined to live in a house that is little better than a hovel?” Lord Statton’s nose wrinkled.

“Of all the row houses around us it is the most dilapidated, I’m sure your neighbours must hate it. ”

“It is rather poor form to talk about money, Father. Or so you have always told me.” Andrea forced herself to smile, her words clipped with barely restrained defensiveness. “Besides, it is not like we are in St. Giles, we’re still in Mayfair.”

“This is barely Mayfair, and you know it.” He sniffed.

“You act as though it is falling down. I assure you, it is perfectly sound.” She knocked on the doorframe to illustrate this point, her irritation getting the better of her.

This is my home, he holds no power here.

“It may not be as grand as some of the others, but it suits my needs just fine. After all, I am only one woman of independent means.”

“Are they truly independent if they are little more than some charitable donation?” His grey eyes flashed with disdain.

“I earned this money.” Andrea clenched her fists, and took a deep breath, focusing on the air travelling through her body. Her father arched an eyebrow at her. “Those games were not some silly little jaunt.”

“So you insist. Though with your wit, I wonder how. Still, the Dowager Duchess is not exactly known for her sense.” He shook his head. “Though I am sure even she would be horrified to see your ‘investment’.”

“Actually, she was the one who helped me secure the home. And she has visited on more than one occasion.” Andrea straightened a little as she saw the smirk fade from her father’s face.

He holds no power here His eyes flashed and he gestured to her door. “Are you not going to invite me in?”

Without waiting for an answer, he swept past her and into the hallway. For a moment, Andrea debated simply leaving the house and ignoring him, but the thought of her father alone, unsupervised, in her home made her feel as though she would lose the contents of her stomach.

For the first time, Andrea wished that she could have hired male staff without causing a scandal in the ton. If she had been a widow, no one would have batted an eye – but she was an unmarried woman.

“Curses.” She muttered under her breath, the shock of her father appearing on her doorstep finally fading.

“I cannot say I care for your choice of décor.” Her father wrinkled his nose as he took in her home.

“Well then, it is a good thing you do not live here.” Andrea dug her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing her words out from clenched teeth. “If it offends you so much, perhaps you should leave.”

“I will leave when I am ready. There are things you and I need to discuss.” Lord Statton leaned forwards on his cane.

“Unfortunately, that will not be possible.” Andrea smiled sweetly. “A pity you did not think to send a card ahead of your visit Father – I would have told you that I could not meet today, I have been invited to the christening of the Duke and Duchess of Verimonre’s son. ”

Lord Statton glanced up and down at his daughter, his lip curling even further. “ You plan on leaving the house, like that?”

Andrea tugged at her dress. It might not have been the most exciting thing, but she did not think it looked awful. Yes, it was a little plain, but it was pretty enough. She resisted the urge to look at her reflection in a nearby window.

“I see fashion is the price you have paid for your… independence.” He stared down his nose at her, making Andrea realise she had dropped back down into a slouch. “Besides, this will not take long.”

“I would not want to miss my godson’s christening, and you know how busy London is at this time of year.” Andrea nodded towards the door. “Though if you wish to continue this discussion, I am sure you can walk me to my carriage.”

She made to stride away from him, but he grabbed her wrist. His grip was like a vice and a slight pop sounded as he squeezed her. Andrea bit back a yelp of pain. This close to her father, she could smell stale smoke on his breath, the overpowering waft of his cologne made her head pound.

“Insolent girl. I have been far too indulgent of you for far too long and it stops now. You are my daughter. You will show me the respect I deserve, or I will make you.” His eyes narrowed, his voice an angry hiss from between tightly clenched teeth.

“Let go of me.” Andrea tried to ignore the pain spreading across her wrist. “This is my house. And I have already given you more than enough, or had you forgotten my contribution to your estate?”

Lord Statton dropped her hand, shaking his head and straightening the lapels of his coat. “Your contribution. It is an insult. It should all have come to me. But instead, you decided to be selfish. Though it is hardly surprising. You only think of yourself.”

“That is not true.” Andrea forced herself not to rub her wrist, she would not give him the satisfaction. “If it was, I would have given you nothing. I would have left you to flounder in your debts.”

“If you were truly a proper daughter, you would be married, with children. That is a woman’s place; to be a mother and a wife.”

With children. Andrea’s chest tightened at the thought. “We had an agreement. If I could win the Dowager Duchess’s games and earn my independence, you would not force me to marry.”

“Because I thought you had at least some modicum of good sense. Every good woman wants a husband, and yet here you are, practically celebrating your singledom.” He spat the last words. “Do you know what people are saying about you? The things they whisper behind closed doors?”

“I expect it is the usual unimportant drivel. The ton is loathe to see a woman unshackled to a man.” Andrea made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I do not particularly care what they think. I am perfectly happy on my own.”

“Do you truly think your happiness is more important than propriety? You are far too arrogant for your own good, and look what trouble it has already caused you. If only you had your mother’s looks or even her temperament, we might not be in this mess.

At the very least, we might have had even one suitor.

” Pain and anger flashed across her father’s face, and Andrea felt as though she had been slapped.

She took a step back, her stomach twisting as her father glared at her. His eyes met hers, and his scowl deepened. Her green eyes had often been a point of pain for him, though she scarcely understood why. Plenty of people thought green eyes were pretty.

She shook her head, and spotted a small painting on the wall of an oak tree growing tall and proud, on its own. It had been a gift from the Dowager Duchess and Andrea recalled the inscription on the back of it.

Your spirit reminds me of myself, let this oak remind you of your strength.

Andrea drew in a breath, turned to her father and smiled a dagger sweet smile. “Then I must take after you.”

He laughed bitterly and made a dismissive gesture. “We both know that is not true. Regardless, I have no intention of allowing you to bring such shame to my name and title.”

“Then disown me.” She lifted her chin slightly, standing up to her full height.

“You would like that would you not? You always were trying to shirk your duties.” His brow creased. “No, disowning you would only tarnish things further. It is far better that you are married.”

“Far better for who?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“For everyone.”

“I will not do it.”Andrea’s voice was cold, and she gesticulated at him angrily with her right hand. “Why should I?”

She did not need to listen to him. She had her own house. Marriage would mean she would have to give it all away. Her house would become her husband’s. Everything would be his.

Let alone the expectations that came with marriage. She knew all too well what that could lead to... Her chest tightened and she rested a hand against her thundering heart.

“Because even you are not heartless enough to trample upon the reputation of a dying man.” Her Father’s words hit her with the force of a bullet.

“What?” She stumbled slightly, clutching at a wall for support. Surely, I misheard.

“I am dying. The physician’s think it will be within the year.” He turned from her, his knuckles white around his cane. “I have no wish to die a failure, and your determination to be a thornback – for that is what they say you are – will be seen as that.”

That took Andrea by surprise. She would have expected to be called a spinster, but a thornback? Surely she could not have been old enough to be considered so thoroughly undesirable?