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Rotheward upon her death.
    Lenister thought all strange. Instead of taking the child back to England, the duke chose to ignore his daughter and let her family hold to the custom in France where Eloise had been taken to a wet nurse just outside Calais. Mame Adele Castel, twice widowed—first to a French officer who lost his life in the American Revolution and second to a baker—served the purpose. She had lost a stillborn daughter at the time. Her sole attention could be given to Eloise, having only two older sons from her first marriage. Mame Adele Castel served as Eloise’s nurse until at some point Eloise had been placed in a convent, along with other schoolgirls, which in itself would be questionable. She had been allowed to be raised Catholic?
    From all accounts, Eloise had not been raised in accordance with the status her birth should have been afforded if it held she was indeed the legitimate daughter to the duke. She left the convent before the age of most girls. He had not found the reason. In some circumstance, she had been linked to the family of the Marquis Darius de Mortiere.
    From his understanding , Lady Eloise lived with her nurse once more after leaving the convent. Questions abounded in this action. Her family had risen to prominence in Calais. Yet she chose to live in poverty…until a scandal erupted, which led to the death of Vicomte de Calognac, the marquis’ oldest son.
    Then and only then did the duke make a move. Sweeping in to protect his daughter, he crossed the ocean and brought her back across the Channel. A short time later, the duke acknowledged her legacy as his own. Yet across the Channel in France, her name became legend with whispers she had been instrumental in the death of the hated vicomte.
    After learning the latter, the high esteem held to her for her stance against the despised aristocrat, he needed the lady…after their meeting, he wanted her.
    * * * *
    Eloise watched from her bedroom window , ignoring the beautiful cream-colored silk gown Jemma had hung out on her wardrobe for the ceremony tomorrow. The high-waist dress flared out with a delicate lace inset. The lace decorated the sleeves and the low neckline. Jemma, with her quick needle, had adjusted the dress, one of Her Grace’s. Eloise was certain Julia wouldn’t mind the dress, only that she wasn’t in attendance. But Eloise’s thoughts were far from which gown she would wear to her wedding. Her eyes fixated on the garden below.
    She had watched a multitude of men parade in and out of Height Point for the better part of the day. She had not been allowed access to their purpose. No, her attention wasn’t required. Her presence here had only one function —to exchange vows with a man she had no knowledge of less than the week before.
    Each of the men who had condemned her to this fate seemed convinced she had graciously accepted her future, a future each envisioned served her better than the one she would have otherwise. She said little in the two days that had passed since her return, but they didn’t know her well if they thought she would meekly accept this façade of a marriage. Yet, even after her rants with Jemma, she was no closer to an escape, held prisoner by Lord Lenister’s veil ed threat, a threat she could not take the chance whether he would follow through or not.
    She sighed heavily , holding back the drawn curtain. She had prided herself with her cunning, managing over the years to maneuver around the tightest of situations. The earl’s words echoed in her mind. She grimaced, pressing her lips together. Worst of all, she doubted seriously if Lord Lenister understood the extent of his threat. If she allowed even a semblance of doubt to emerge, the whole of the operation would be in danger, all of them… 
    Eloise had lived in a world of disillusionment after Luc’s death, although the vehement bitterness had dissipated. Only the thought of Rosabel.... Suddenly, a slight tap at her door startled her