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This is a mistake, he thought as he headed for the manor.I should turn around right now.

He kept going, even though every bone in his body urged him not to. These were the kind of people he despised. He was about to walk into the home of a rich man who thought he owned the world just because he was deemed upper class.

But would a rich man approach him late at night, at a fighting ring, and all but beg him to sign a contract? A contract that basically sold his sister into marriage?

The poor woman had to be a sorry sight if this was what they had to resort to.

Austin knew he was no better. He might be deemed handsome if he ever cared to wear a more pleasant expression but it was not his lack of physical appeal that rendered him ineligible for matrimony. It was his true status as a bastard. He wouldn’t have cared if it hadn’t been for the fact that, in the position he stood in now, hehadto get married.

Even their front gate was overdone. Latrice Manor was interwoven in the metal, the gate so tall that even Austin would not have been able to touch the top without jumping. He stood and stared for a moment, the name giving him pause. It nagged at him since last night, as if he should know it.

And then it hit him. He knew the name Latrice. A man without title but with enough wealth to put him in rooms with earls and dukes. He’d even gotten an audience with the Prince Regent himself. Dubbed the Merchant of Brentwood, the Latrice family sat atop a shipping empire.

A mistake, he thought again as he pushed the gate open and approached the front door. He used the obnoxiously large knocker on the door and listened to the sound echo on the other side.

Only a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a thin-lipped butler with spectacles perched on the very tip of his nose. The butler slid the spectacles just a bit further down to look Austin up and down.

“May I help you?” he asked, his slow drawl so haughty that Austin curled his hands into fists on instinct.

He swallowed the irritation he felt at the butler’s tone and pushed through gritted teeth, “I am here to see the master of this house.”

“Mr. Latrice is not available at the moment.” The butler raised his chin, clasping his hands behind him. “What is your name, sir?”

Austin nearly curled his upper lip in annoyance. He thought such a disdainful demeanor was only reserved for the upper class. “None of your business,” Austin replied. “Now step aside. I do not have time to waste here.”

“Sir.” The butler stepped in Austin’s path, stopping him from crossing over the threshold. It looked as if he was trying his best to hold back his own annoyance. “I understand that you may be eager to learn under Mr. Latrice’s expertise but as I have stated before, he is busy. So he is not available to attend to you at the moment. So if you could please leave—”

“I am the Earl of Derby,” Austin snapped. “And your Mr. Latrice is expecting me. Now step out of the way or else I will remove you myself. And I don’t think you will fancy me doing that.”

Horror flashed across the butler’s face for a split second before he masked it quickly. He took a discreet step backward, clearing his throat. It took everything in Austin not to shove the man aside when he gave him another once-over, as if he was deciding whether or not he should believe him.

His clothes weren’t very fashionable, Austin knew. And the lengthy walk from his townhouse had covered his waistcoat and breeches in a fine layer of dust. So yes, he may not look like a proper earl right now and usually, Austin wouldn’t care about that. But if this butler insisted on standing in his way—and if Austin wanted to keep this civil—then throwing his title in the butler’s face was the only way to get past this door, as much as he hated to do it.

For a moment, he thought he would really have to resort to a less favorable option but then the butler said, “Forgive me, my lord. Please, follow me.”

Stiffly, he turned and walked away. Austin grunted in annoyance and followed behind him. He should just turn around. Everything in him was telling him that this was a bad idea, even if it sounded good on paper. Nothing good would come from involving himself with these people and this odd contract.

But he needed the funds. For his father. For his late stepmother. And for the legacy they left behind.

“But, Vincent, you promised!”

The shrill voice nearly made Austin stop in his tracks. The butler was slowing down and then he halted in front of a door that was slightly ajar. Instead of indicating such, he only bowed to Austin and walked away.

“Lav, you have to understand that I do not have time for this.”

“That is what you always say! But I won’t let you push me aside again. I have been trying to have this conversation with you for days now and I won’t leave this office until you tell me what you have planned.”

A breath of frustration. “Lavender, please.”

“No.” A foot hit the floor, hard. “Tell me, Vincent. Or is it that you haven’t planned anything at all?”

Austin pushed the door aside. The two occupants within didn’t notice him. One of them he recognized as the man who had approached him last night, Mr. Vincent Latrice himself.

The other person was a lady, similar in appearance to Vincent. Her hair was a mousy brown that was pulled back into a chignon, a few tendrils framing her face. She clutched a book to her chest, her slight frame draped in a brown dress that did not compliment her well. She didn’t seem to care about that, however.

She looked so…normal. Not exactly what Austin was picturing and yet not surprising either. Had they been in a room full of people, she would have become a wallflower.

“Vincent, you promised!” Despite the plainness of her appearance, her voice was full of life, even though it was frustrated. “Father promised and you promised to uphold it when he died.”