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“Look at this dress!” Lady Eleanor Blackwood gushed as she stared down at the pages of Belle Assemblée that she and her friend Miss Emily Dutton were browsing together. “Isn’t that the most gorgeous dress you’ve ever seen?”

“It’s beautiful,” Emily whispered, her eyes becoming round as saucers as she gazed at it too.

“You’re lucky, your family can afford a dress like that for your debut.

Mine will probably tell me that the money is better spent on educating little George.

As if he already doesn’t have the best tutors!

” Emily sighed and shook her head. “You’re lucky you don’t have a brother. ”

“I don’t know about that,” Eleanor said, her eyes still fixed on the fashion plate. It showed a beautiful green dress with a V-neck neckline she had never seen before that tied in the front.

It must be French, she thought. Only the French would do something so daring! Wrenching her eyes away from the fashion plate, she looked at Emily.

“Not having a brother means our estate is prejudiced against the female line. My parents never miss an opportunity to bemoan the fact that I was not born a boy, or that they were not able to have any other children. Not that I blame them,” she added quickly, as Emily’s eyes grew even wider.

“I can understand how fearful my mama is of being tossed out by my cousin Henry and having nowhere to live. I can only hope I will be married by then and have a good husband who will let her stay with us.”

“Of course you will,” Emily said at once, her eyes flickering enviously over Eleanor’s face. “You are so beautiful! You will marry the most handsome, wealthy, and kind man in England!”

Eleanor flushed and looked away. This was not the first time her friend had mentioned her looks.

Her parents also went out of their way to commend Eleanor on what they considered her “only asset” – she was slender and dainty, had a fashionable cupid’s bow mouth, and long brown hair that curled into ringlets without her even trying.

But each time someone brought it up, she never felt flattered. She only felt deeply uncomfortable.

For one thing, Eleanor didn’t find it possible to be proud of something that she couldn’t help. The things she loved – reading, fashion, and dancing – were all things she took pride in. But her looks were something she couldn’t help.

For another, it made Eleanor feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want Emily, or any of her friends, to be jealous of her, and certainly not over something so superficial.

And thirdly, she sometimes worried that gentlemen would only see her looks and not spend time actually getting to know her. And all she wanted was a gentleman to court her because he was drawn to her personality and character.

But that was still ahead of her. The London Season was beginning in a week, and she would make her debut and finally have a chance to live out all the fantasies that had been building in her mind about the London Season all these years.

“I know we will both make excellent matches,” she said, smiling warmly at Emily. “And we will both have kind, wealthy, handsome husbands in no time.”

“I hope so,” Emily said, her eyes sparkling. “I was wondering: do you think we should wear diamonds at Almack’s, or stick with pearls to begin with?”

“Pearls,” Eleanor said at once. “We don’t want the matrons at Almack’s to think the rules of Society don’t apply to us. If they do, they won’t let us dance the waltz!”

“Oh, and we must dance the waltz,” Emily said, leaning back against the sofa and staring dreamily into space. “There is nothing I want more than to dance the waltz with a handsome gentleman!”

“Me neither.” Eleanor giggled.

Just then, there was a sharp knock on the parlour door, and Eleanor and Emily looked up to see Eleanor’s mother, Lady Helen Blackwood, Viscountess of Twickenham, standing in the doorway, a highly displeased look on her face.

Sensing that something was wrong, Eleanor stood up at once and curtsied.

“Good afternoon, Mama,” she said. “How are you today? Miss Dutton and I were just going over the newest fashion plates.”

Lady Twickenham’s look of disapproval only deepened. “I am afraid I must ask Miss Dutton to leave,” Lady Twickenham said. “There is something quite serious that your father and I need to discuss with you, Eleanor.”

Eleanor looked at her friend, whose expression was shocked; this was quite understandable, as Lady Twickenham was being exceedingly rude.

“I will go then,” Emily said, shaking herself and glancing at Eleanor. “I should be getting home anyway.”

Emily stood, and Eleanor hugged her goodbye. Then her friend left the parlour, her lady’s maid, who had been waiting in the corner, trailing behind her. Eleanor waited until both were gone and the door was closed before rounding on her mother.

“Mama! That was awfully rude,” she chided.

Lady Twickenham was not the most polite or tactful lady of the ton, but she was not usually this outright rude, and she had nothing against Emily, although she had remarked on a few occasions that Eleanor ought to have more lady friends instead of those who were merely misses.

“And you can apologize to Miss Dutton later for me,” Lady Twickenham snapped.

“But right now, there is something far more pressing and urgent than your little friend’s feelings.

” She paused, and for a moment, she looked as if she were about to faint.

She swayed on her feet, and all the blood drained from her face.

“Mama! Are you alright?” Eleanor hurried forward to help her mother, who had reached out to steady herself against the back of the nearest sofa.

“Yes, I am alright …” Lady Twickenham closed her eyes briefly, swallowed, and opened them again. “But it has been a severe shock. I will not lie that things are about to change for us in ways that will forever affect our family.”

Eleanor felt her blood run cold. “W-what are you talking about?”

Lady Twickenham’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Eleanor,” she sobbed and threw herself forward into her daughter’s arms. Eleanor patted her mother’s back as her dread grew. “We’re ruined, we are all ruined! And only you can save us!”

“Mama, you need to tell me what is going on right now,” Eleanor said, taking her mother by the arms and holding her at arm’s length. Tears were still streaming down her mother’s cheeks, and she had a wild, almost mad look in her eyes. But she swallowed and nodded, then stood up a little straighter.

“Your father has lost everything,” she whispered. “And the only way to save our family from ruin is for you to marry Mr Thomas Barrett.”

Eleanor felt as if someone had just punched her in the chest. All the air left her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see straight. She was dizzy.

Releasing her mother’s arms, she stumbled to the left, then sat down with a hard thud on the sofa that just moments ago, she had occupied with Emily as they had dreamed of the handsome, kind men they would marry.

There will be no kind, handsome man now. There will only be the man that my parents chose for me.

Eleanor still could barely think straight as she looked back up at her mother. Lady Twickenham had stopped crying, but she was watching Eleanor apprehensively. Eleanor unstuck her throat.

“Who is Mr Thomas Barrett?” she whispered. She had never heard of him, never seen his name in any of the gossip sheets and never been told to memorize information about him so that she might charm him at Almack’s. He was a complete stranger to her.

“Mr Barrett is one of your father’s business associates,” Lady Twickenham murmured. “Your father owes him … the point is, the only way we will not lose everything–the house, the business, the London house as well–is if you marry him.”

“What did father do?” Eleanor demanded. As the reality of the situation hit her, so did her anger and indignation.

She was not going to marry some man she had never met just because her father had managed to lose everything in the textile business he had invested in several years previously, when the land at Twickenham Place began to lose value and had to be sold off.

“How should I know?” Lady Twickenham said, suddenly defensive. “Your father is a great businessman, and I do not ask any questions!”

“He clearly is not a good businessman,” Eleanor said, as calmly as she could, “if he has lost everything and now is trying to sell me in marriage.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Lady Twickenham snapped. “You are not being sold in marriage.

“That is exactly what this is!” Eleanor cried. She forced herself to stand again so that she and her mother would be on the same level. “What would you call it?”

“I would say it is a daughter doing her duty and helping her family by marrying a man of great fortune.” Lady Twickenham drew herself up. “Which is no different than I did when I married your father.”

“You had met Papa before you married him,” Eleanor snapped. “Your parents did not try to force you into it because of their mistakes.”

“No, but he was a viscount, and I was a knight’s daughter. Our courtship had been brief, but I married your father when he asked because I knew it would advance my family’s position in the world.”

Eleanor stared blankly at her mother. “But it was your choice,” she said after a long moment. “And I simply ask for the same right: to make my own choice in my marriage.”

But Lady Twickenham was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Eleanor, but the marriage contract has already been signed.”

“What?!” Eleanor’s mouth fell open. “How is that possible? And you’re just telling me about this right now?”

“This is what we have to do to save our family.” Lady Twickenham’s eyes filled with tears, but Eleanor couldn’t stand to see them.