Chapter 1

1792, twenty four years before everything.

Hugo was a stowaway of the ranks. He was what a regular lordship would call a "Bastard" but the kinder, less condescending ones would call him "Nobody" and with his stnading in society, that was just about as best as he could get. Not at all was he in possession of seperated parents but rather the product of said parents, but the center of a widely known gossip.

Because dashing William Hunt loved the sorry young lady, sweet Diana De Vere, they married but unfortunately just after the ton noticed the growth—the child forming in Diana's body. Diana loved William likewise William loved her, but William loved his name more than he loved anyone, so when Hugo was born, he loved him as much as anyone loved their breakfast cold in the morning of winter.

Because William loved Hugo, at five, he sent him away from his Mother's to live in London with the poor old staff with joy hanging by the thinnest, cheapest thread in England. But

what they—the maids, nurses, servants and the governess did not know was that Hugo was a severe, steadfast and swift troll. They expected a duke's child not a blasphemous beast, and he was certainly a beast. He was an elusive creature, a great rogue the entire household fought but never snared. Nevertheless, they loved him—they dearly loved him. It was not an instant feeling but it was of graceful pace. Hugo made them laugh healing their otherwise mundane yet noble occupation. Hugo had them closer than his actual family—in fact, it felt like they were his family.

His mother's visits are rare and his father's even more. Well, everyone talked about how scandalous their marriage was. Many of the ton assumed that the child had another father, and that rumor remained a fact until Hugo came to London. Everyone noticed how he had kind round eyes with a shade of green similar to his father's, however, the rest of what he was blessed with was courtesy of his mother's beautiful genetic pool. Such as his inky, wavy lockes, and his darling smile.

But years of mistaking such rumor as the truth naturally became the truth and truth is a nearly immovable object even though sometimes it is fake. Perhaps it was the reason why William allowed Hugo little movement in society. However, that did not entirely eradicate Hugo's intentions for a more eventful life in his latter years of youth.

By 1811, age of ten and eight, Hugo came to be what the ton call troubled and such reputation certainly soured his and his father's bond (even though they had none). He had spent his days charting courses to temporal splendors—places where he felt like he could ignore whatever problems, expectations he had...generally, he just wanted to avoid family. That heightened feeling of freedom and revelry always fades after twilight. Returning home and waking up to a sad picture of his future as Duke of Westcliffe made him suffocate, feeling trapped and helpless. Oh and how he loathed such feeling...

His father had been nagging him, reminding him of the responsibility he had as an heir, but he wanted a life far from it—away from it.

Away from the Barton Hall

Away from London

Amiably away from his mother

But most especially, away from his father.

Well...somehow his wishes came true. Since his mother brought two more sons into this world, she had never found the time to visit London even for social season. Unlike his father who, for whatever reason, had plenty, plenty enough to stay in London for about a few weeks before rerurning to Barton hall.

During those times, in fact, Hugo was immobile. He was forbidden from matters outside their premises and while he never paid attention to his curfew, to manners, and formalities, when his Father stayed, he was not the same...he was modest to the point where he was nearly unrecognizable.

He was a coward but a respectable one. His father may be old, may have been sickly (dear god how is he still alive) but the fact still remains, he still held power and with that power, he was still under his control. Such control was evident in Lord Hunt's efforts to find marriage for all of his sons especially for Hugo. William believed that Hugo could marry anyone if he wanted to, if he just tried. his only flaw, was however, was that he was never fully subscribed to the thought of romance. So in his best efforts to see an heir, or a granddaughter, he wanted his son to marry as soon as he could even if it were to be a lovleless and miserable union.

***

1816, Portman Square, London.

Such opportunity of marriage fluctuates in the season. It was fortunate for William that he could still see another season but unfortunate for Hugo to see his father still alive. After a long travel from Barton Hall, Lord Hunt stepped down from his carriage, cane in hand, slowly he ambled to the entrance exactly turtle's pace while Hugo watched, restraining himself from smiling at the sight of pity.

"Father, good to see you again." Hugo said smiling before opening the door.

"Out of my way boy! We have pressing matters to discuss." Hugo mocked him, mouthing the exact words and the servants chuckled.

After William settled, a small lunch was prepared in a minor dining hall west of the house. By small, it does not mean the modest kind but more of a feast with pig and a myriad of meat his father all dearly enjoyed. It was only in the first day of his father's visit that they would eat in the same dining hall together and it would always be silent. However this time, that did not seem to be the case.

"The season had officially started, tell me you have a plan to propose? Offer you hand to someone who I hope came from a respectable family?" William asked, and across the dinner table, Hugo rolled his eyes and just as always, answered in a manner which made his father happy.

"I do have a few in mind," he said before eating a piece of pig. He saw his father smile before he consumed the same dish.

"Good, but courtship is one thing. Marrying is another. I wish my legacy to be certain before I am gone from this world. I wish to see you married before this season ends. Is that clear, Hugo?" Asked William looking at Hugo's eyes anticipating for a good answer.

"It can be done, father." He replied which made his father's smile stretch even wider.

"Splendid, the first ball is to be hosted by the Montrose family this evening, surely you will make an attendance?"

Montrose was not one bearing any sort of infamy among the high ranks but to the maids and commonfolk, it was an entirely different story. Many of the commonfolk believe that the Montrose family paid little to no coin to the servants in their household, however threaths have been made to the servants' families just so no one would leave. Some say, a few staff members have died because not even the Montrose could give them small enough sustenance to cover for their free labor...

"I will, father. The invitation says it would be late in the evening. However as a masquerade it would be a tad bit difficult to ascertain who is who. Will you joining me father?" Hugo asked, smiling politely before drinking his lemonade, silently praying he would not come.

"I hope to keep an eye for any misdeeds you might do to besmirch my name. However, my ankles would not permit it." He replied massaging his thighs darting Hugo with a sharp, almost terrifying gaze.

"I will not have you return to this home, I might even send you away to Wales, if you do as much as to speak ill of our family. I expect that you will behave accordingly at the fete for this evening..." William said, and Hugo gave him a fake smile, a kind of which passed for a reassuring one.

"Of course father, you have my word."

•••

Meanwhile in Hanover Square, London.

The odds of the Beaumont Dukedom finding marriage had never been slim. Of course it never had, the Beaumonts had always been known for their astonishingly beautiful daughters and equally handsome sons.

Although the eldest daughter had not married in her first season, she had flocking suitors willing to take her hand in marriage, yet curiously she took none...Iris, on the other hand, the second daughter, now introduced in society, fell victim to the expectations of her family, and what vicious expectations they were. Her duty now was to marry a man with great standing, with great wealth, and an even greater character.

"Must you always be so difficult," Her mother said in a gentle yet exasperated tone, a hint of kindness masking her frustration. It had just been a day after Iris's debut and yet here she was, being primed and coddled like a pine tree in the third week of december.

"Mother, we do not need to make haste, it is a quarter passed eleven, the ball would not start a few more hours later." Iris said nodding as if requesting the servants to to leave. As the ladies left, her mother walked slowly towards her, an exhausted sigh escaping her pale lips.

"It is very important to make a first good impression. You rarely talk with people, so it worries me that you will not be able to—"

"Manage myself?" Iris said, knowing full well that was her mother's concern.

"Exactly! You never interacted with anyone, you are always in your room writing, reading books. I do not mind an intellectual daughter but I do plead with you to be more like your sister..." Her mother nagged and Iris could only sigh.

"Oh yes indeed, I should be more like Jane, perfectly talented, beautiful, sociable and easygoing." Jane is indeed a lady whom noblemen would want to bethrode. She is proficient in pianoforte, kind looking, and a natural conversationalist. Iris was none of those things. She was silent, barely smiles, always casted behind his sister's shadow, and she was too blunt and honest for her own good. Different they may be...they were close to one another, and in greatest trials, they find sanctuary in each other's company.

"Sarcasm is not good on your tongue young lady. I have been trying my best to ensure that a man with a well enough title would marry someone who...who...whose character is similar to that of yours!" Her mother said, before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Iris could only do so much as sigh. She was used to it, even before their debut, she had always been seen as someone incomparable to Jane who her family believed was far more than her. Especially their mother, who loved Jane because of her prospects in the previous season.

"It seems that you two quarelled again," Jane chuckled as she entered the room slowly, and Iris smiled at her.

Jane had already been prettied for a luncheon she was going to attend a few moments later, and as always, she with the weapons the god had given...her long glistening red hair, her soft gentle lips, and blue eyes that matched the sparkle of the finest sapphire...it almost made Iris jealous, she did not have the same glistening red hair, nor gentle lips, nor the sapphire eyes...it was...it felt...well...

"You are beautiful," Iris said smiling as she walked to Jane barely clenching on to kindness with love. Iris is guilty from her envy, but she felt the need to be just like her sister, in fact there were moments where she wanted to be her. She wondered what she felt like to have such a sunny smile, a good character...she wondered how it felt like to be glorified like Jane was.

"I try to be and frankly you do not have to. I am sure that whoever will marry you will be someone who will never speak to you the way our mother does." Jane said in earnest. Holding both her sisters hands whilst looking gleefully in her eyes as if to say, that she would always be there for her.

"You believe such a man exist?" Iris joked and Jane laughed. Iris' sense of humor had always made her chuckle so.

"There is! Believe me. I am sure you will find someone at the Montrose Masquerade this evening."

"Oh, the only finding that will happen tonight is those men finding methods to lure you into their dark, unexpected carnage," Iris said as she went back to her dresser.

"You make them sound like they are beasts. Enlighten me, great harbinger of wisdom, why do you find gentlemen repulsive?" Jane mocked curtsying low while his sister groaned at the sight of it.

"They ARE beasts, and I am not repulsed by them, but I have heard conversations by them that would surely put a woman's belief of the opposite sex in low spirits. Remember those men coming here? Awful people. They just look at you as if a you were an item" Iris replied.

"That...may be true, however, I do believe that love exist in our society even though it is difficult to find it..." Iris looked at her and a guess immediately registered in her head.

"But I know it exist, Iris. I am sure you will find it." Jane's whole expression lit up. She looked down with a great wondrous smile as if to allude she was reminded of someone.

"Is there something you have yet to tell me?" Iris asked squinting her eye and her sister just walked towards her and swiftly, taking both her hands clenching them tight.

"I will not be attending the ball tonight..."

"Pardon?"

"...I have met someone." Jane said quietly. Shocked, Iris's eyes widened for it was just merely the start of the season and her sister ha dalready found someone?

"S-S-Someone? It is still too early in the sea—"

"I did not meet him in London, silly. I met him in the country! Mother does not know so I beg you do not tell her." She said with an elation Iris was not entirely used to.

Iris assumed that it was perhaps someone that they knew for a long time and mayhaps that would be the case. Jane never believed in love as a feeling as instant as a thunderbolt but more of a flower coming into bloom with less velocity. Iris was not entirely sure what she felt now that her sister had "met someone".

"Is it someone I already know?" Iris asked.

"He is—"

"JANE! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!" shouted her mother downstairs. Jane sighed and released her sister's hands.

"Well I must go, I shall tell you when I can. For now, I could only hope that you enjoy the ball tonight, sister."

"Wai—"

"Goodbye~"

Before she could even say another word, Jane had already closed the door behind her. Iris sat there, wondering how would she able to survive the night without her sister to keep their mother busy. Iris barely frequented balls, but in a rare instance that she does, her mother would always leave her to her own devices, usually leaving her beisde the refreshments table...but...oh it will certainly be a different kind of evening.