The carriage and four pulled up in front of the large hunting lodge owned by Lord David Brooke, youngest son of the Marquis of Brookestone. His father had given him the lodge when he turned twenty-one the previous year, along with a very generous yearly allowance. When the vehicle came to a standstill, Lady Esme Brooke, Lord David’s sister, stumbled out with the arm of her escort, a Baron friend of her brother’s, in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. All three were laughing too hard to walk in a straight line up the snow bordered stairs and the footman who opened the door to the carriage was thankful that he had driven that night.

Lord David was known around the country for his wild escapades, and now that his sister was no longer considered a debutante at the age of twenty, he enjoyed having her as a tag along. Recently, more times than one she was the instigator of their antics together. Their father and three older siblings tried, but failed, to keep them on a tight leash, but they were too slippery for ‘the puritans’ as they called them and managed to evade the toughest punishments. Now they were returning in the early hours of the morning after having enjoyed a most riotous party at a neighbour’s. The Baron was staying in the vicinity but since the snow fall had increased significantly, David wouldn’t hear of his friend leaving the lodge that night, a sentiment that took a load off a great many staff members’ heart. Though they should have been a county over in Derbyshire with their family, David and Esme had snuck out at dawn to travel at a madman’s pace to reach Leicestershire in record time. Walking through the door no one noticed a figure sitting in a chair in the dim centre hall as they were helped out of their outer vestments.

“I say, that was a damn good party Ashley gave! He needs to put me in touch with his man in France. With brandy like that coming into the country, I need to be in on the business. It is a shame I do not have a house in Sussex like he does.” The Baron, free of his evening coat, took the top off a bottle of said brandy and enjoyed a healthy swig.

“I think Ashley would have our heads on his tarnishing silver platters the next morning if we snuck onto his turf! This is the only way he is making money, you know, to support that estate in Sussex of his.” David had just gotten his other arm out of his evening coat and reached for the champagne bottle resting where Esme had placed it to hand off her furs.

“Yes, it is unfortunate that Ashley’s farmers are all fighting in the war, but at least we are being true friends and keeping food in his larder, though that bottle plus the brandy in the back of the carriage, David, has cost you your new horse and my new dress.” The trio had now moved into the drawing room where Esme took the bottle from her brother and put the champagne on ice to chill again from the time it had passed hands and lips in the carriage.

“Only a woman would put her clothes over a decent drink, though that is too bad about White Star. I have envied him for ages.” David was sitting in a big arm chair opposite the fire and stared into it thinking about the beautiful stallion waiting for him in London. “Oh well, I will just have Adam pay for it. The poor chap cannot deny me anything.”

All three laughed since they all knew it was true, even the Baron. Adam was David and Esme’s older brother and had a heart of gold that they both had taken advantage of too many times to remember. They laughed for a while thinking about the Brooke’s that they were so different from. Most times a family had only one ‘black sheep’ but in this case there were two. Esme wanted to keep the spirits up in the room, and down her lovely throat, so she rose to pour everyone a glass of champagne.

“It has been entertaining David and Esme, but now I must bid you both goodnight so that I can drive away at a decent hour in the morning. Are we still on next week to visit Mrs. Herbert’s? She has a new shipment of down-on-their-luck French beauties fresh from the continent that I am itching to try out.” The Baron, after tossing the liquid back in one swallow, placed his empty glass down on a side table, narrowly dropping it, and hobbled towards the door. David put his own down and helped his friend to the door and most likely up the stairs.

“Yes, I am very much looking forward to it...” Esme watched the two men leave and only when the door close did she let out her laughter, since the copious amounts of alcohol in her veins wouldn’t let her. David’s friend was the biggest drunk and the most licentious man of high society, but his ancient family name, title, and money barely kept the social doors open to him, not that he would have minded much if they were closed. He was a gentleman who preferred the gutter and the two-bit wenches that were found in it. She was still convulsing when the door soon opened again and a large figure entered. She mistakenly thought it was her brother, and turned her head with a wide smile.

“Come finish this bottle off with me David, it would be a shame- Oh, it is you Papa! What are you doing here and awake at this time of night? Surely you want to be warm and cozy in your state bedroom at home.” It was the wine talking, since she was not even halfway sober, because most times she spoke to her father she paid him lip service and then did what she wanted right after finishing.

“Esther, it is an equal surprise to find you and your brother here.” As if on cue, David walked into the room rolling his shoulders after relieving them of the weight of his friend. He too did not notice his father’s presence at first and entered with a smile and wanting to talk about their next adventure when the Marquis turned to face his son. David was twice as inebriated as Esme and could not keep the stoic poker face he had in his father’s presence.

“Sir, but we did not expect you! Come and have a drink in front of the fire. We now have some very excellent, and very expensive, brandy to add to our cellars.” David was about to ring the bell for a hastily roused servant to bring up a bottle, but his father stopped him and told him to sit down. David flopped back in the same chair as before, this time sideways pulling and crossing his long and lean legs over an arm with the same glazed over look in his face. Even in her clouded mind, Esme knew it was a matter of minutes before David was passed out cold.

“Now that we are all together, please do let me tell you how angry and ashamed I am to call you both my children, and that this will be one of the last remaining times I will acknowledge you as thus. I will have no further dealings with you after this week is through. I am here to discuss your futures.” The two other people in the room not only ignored the cold and fury repressing tone in his voice, but burst out laughing at his serious expression and words.

“Sir, but you are too funny! Why think about tomorrow when there is good drink tonight. Come by the fire and warm your bones and belly. Tomorrow, when Esme and I are much more sober, we can talk about the future.” David smiled at the thought since the future to him was what horse to ride in the morning, what carriage to ride in the afternoon, and what woman to ride at night. The Marquis again refused his son’s invitation, but moved to stand in front of the fire. Esme had lain back on a sofa directly in front of him and he glared his children’s wax smiles and glassy eyes.

“Silence, David. I do not want to hear a word from either of you. Just listen and receive your instructions.” Something in his tone this time reached his children through the dense fog in their minds, especially Esme. They both became quiet but only half paying attention, knowing that whatever plagues their father called down on their heads, they would disregard it in the morning and already be planning their next scheme.

“Papa, we are sorry that we left so soon but-” Esme’s brain commanded her mouth in what to say to soften the blow but the Marquis’ expression hardened even more when he looked upon his youngest daughter. Since the fireplace was very large, the light was shining over the long line of her body lying in front of him and making her thin gown transparent through the flickering flames. Esme tried to keep her dresses fashionable and seasonably correct, but which still did not include many layers, even in the winter.

“Stop it Esther! I will not have you using your childish wiles and feminine charms on me, for they will not work! I should have thought being my daughter and your family’s noble and pure blood would have inbred in you the decency to behave like the lady your title calls you.” Through the drunken haze she was in, Esme slowly began piecing together that their father was not so much livid over them running away from home these two days as much as he was over the accumulation of their scandals. She was in the same boat as the Baron, with her excellent name and large personal fortune keeping her socially respectable, though many mama’s had kept her from associating with their daughters, and especially their sons, whenever she rarely appeared at a ball or reception featuring high society. Tonight’s excursion was the proverbial ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’.

“Sir, could we not speak of this in the morning? It is late-” David was whining with his head leaning against the wing of the chair with his eyes half closed. He had forgotten his glass on the table and was too comfortable to get it so he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Enough! I am not going to stay under this roof any longer than necessary. As it is, I would prefer to wash my hands of you tonight, but the roads are too dangerous at this time of the morning. Not another word until I have finished what I have come to tell both of you. As you know, your behaviour last season has caused a multitude of scandals that me and your older brothers and sisters have had to cover over for you, and now I have no choice but to cut you off from the family...forever!”

Both David and Esme perked up at the last word since now they knew what their father was more serious than they thought.

“Your sisters and sister-in-law are complaining to me that their reputations are in such danger that they cannot allow me to let you continue as you have. So I have come to a decision and made plans for both of you, of which will be in effect immediately.”

He glared at his each of his youngest children, secretly daring them to challenge his authority, but they were too busy cruelly forcing their bodies to sober enough to understand what he was saying. The Marquis turned to his son first who had pulled his legs down and sat in the chair properly in an attempt to at least appear focused enough.

“As you know David, and have been taught since infancy, the Brookes are a military family. We have been in His Majesty’s Service since Charlemagne. The Viscount, your brother, made a fine career of the army before he married and now I am expecting you to follow in his place. Since you have made a mockery of our family name in England, and I very much doubt they would accept your commission, I am sending you on the continent to barracks in Prussia. This war needs every able-bodied man available to defeat that Corsican upstart. My secretary will accompany you when you leave Saturday to make sure you reach your final destination.” While his father was speaking these words, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown into his face. Unfortunately, the alcohol started talking for him again and he did not try to levelly reason with the man as he would have done on another occasion.

“Never sir! Do you have any idea of the goings-on in-” He never got to finish his sentence, for his father slapped him twice square across the face. Since he was not expecting the blow, David fell back against his recently vacated chair with a hand to his cheek and a stunned expression in his eyes, though his brain was slow to recognise the action. Esme started to go to help him but her father pushed her back.

“Leave him, Esther. He needs to take his hits like a man. Hopefully the training in Prussia will make him such and help him realise his duties and responsibilities.” David did not look at either his sister or his father, nor did he say anything or make any other kind of noise, but stood up shakily off the chair and left the room.

“David, no do not-” Esme tried to grab his hand or sleeve, but he brushed her off without a second thought. Now she was alone with her father, sober enough to feel the tenseness of the situation, and her father did not look as if he would spare her his wrath.

“As for you, Esther, I have something entirely different in mind. As you know, you are now twenty years of age, and I have allowed you to remain unmarried for too long. It is not surprising to me now that all your suitors have withdrawn their proposals, all but one, and now I have found your husband. You will be married to the Duke of Argyle this Friday morning.”

“The Duke of Argyle? That does not sound an English name, Papa.”

“He is a Scotsman. No decent peer of Britain will have you, for which I cannot blame them, so I have been forced to look outside the immediate bounds of our nation. I have been in correspondence with him for some time and have become aware of his historical name and family and large estate and holdings. The only reason he is marrying you, Esther, is for your money to keep up his family home, so you will not be able to continue to live in your accustomed manner. Not that anyone, in particular him self, will be able to admire you since your nearest neighbour is some miles away.” The first sentence was the only one Esme had completely heard.

“You want me to marry a Scotsman, Papa? You must be joking! You would have me marry some barbaric highlander, Papa? You cannot be serious!” As she gave a short laugh, somewhere in her mind Esme knew it was stupid of her to fight her father on his decision, but she was not about to let herself be palmed off to a man she had never met or even seen whom she knew nothing about, minus the fact that he was not even of her nationality.

“Do not raise your voice at me! I am still your father, Esther, and you are still considered a minor under my care in the eyes of the law. I have the authourity to tell you whom to marry and will not disobey me. You need a man to take charge of you, and who better than one who will keep you where you belong and keep you away from flaunting your seductive powers all over town. Two years ago I forgave you and accepted you back into the family. I also warned you to behave yourself, but you just had to prove yourself to the hilt the most notorious doxy and whore of London! Even the most acclaimed actresses dancing in Covent Garden are less spoken of then you, or toasted over by the biggest drunkards of the realm! No, Esther, I am not going to tolerate this anymore, nor is your fiancé. You will not be able to charm him so easily with your body as you have other men. He will keep you in your place and no more will you be heard of in England. This is as permanent as I can get to cutting you off from the world and your family who have turned their backs on you. I will remain until Thursday morning, when you will be ready to leave, and after Friday you will no longer be a Brooke and will never be mentioned among them again. You will never speak of your antecedents should you come in contact with anyone who asks.”

Esme could not breathe as she sat on the sofa, staring into her father’s face with determination in her own. After his first outburst, his voice became steadily calmer so that she knew his plans were irrevocable. She wasn’t shocked he had called her a whore, which was a common occurrence. As stupid as the decision proved to be, she did not want to go down without a fight.

“No Papa! I am not going to shut myself in some crumbling ruin in a foreign country, with a half savage man who only deems me worthy to marry because of my money and that I am readily available! I am not-”

She never got further since her father struck her face the same way he had struck David’s, only this time he did not stop after one round. He repeated his actions twice more before he put his hand back to his side. Esme was immobile after the first time that evening, since her body would not react as quickly as her mind would hope fir since it knew was coming. When her face felt cool after he had stopped, she put her hand to her cheek but took it back down when it stung.

“This is how sluts in respectable families are treated. I have heard of every man you have seduced into your wickedness and have not forgotten any of them. I can only hope Argyle punishes you further for your sinfulness.”

Esme looked up at him since his voice took on a strange note, and before she could stop it, her father had grabbed her by her shoulder and threw here face down onto the floor. One second later she felt the hot flash against her back, then another, and then another before the area went numb. For a full three minutes her father whipped her back until she felt the blood rolling over her sides and he believed her unconscious. Esme had only screamed once since that was the satisfaction he was looking for. She did not even cry, but lay helpless since she knew the law was not on her side and the servants were terrified of her father.

When the Marquis finished, he threw the whip hard onto her torn and bloodied body and left the room without a word. Esme just laid there, her tipsy haze too quickly fading, thinking over the future her father put her into and knew that it would be the worst hell she could ever endure. It was not that she was conceited enough to need constant attention and flattery, or the social seasons in London; on the contrary, she preferred to be alone in peace and quiet. It was not that she minded living in Scotland or the Highlands. She did not even mind that she would never see her family again since she had never been wanted from the beginning of her life, though a little more than now. What she would miss was her brother, who had the worst punishment since the training and harsh barracks in Prussia would kill either his body, spirit, soul, or all three. David was her closest and only friend in the world and she did not know how she could survive without him. He was the only one who could piece her back together two years ago...

Esme must have fallen asleep on the floor since the next thing she knew was the door to the drawing room being opened and someone walking towards her. Her heart froze in case it was her father coming to finish what he had started before, though she didn’t know what else, short of murder, he could do to her. But the steps were lighter than his and soft footed, and she knew who it was before David had even spoken.

“Esme! Oh my God, Esme, what the-” David had to breath deeply before continuing since his vision became more rose coloured, and it wasn’t from the thread in the carpet. His wasted state of a half hour ago vanished with the cold bath and fresh air he had in his bedroom. “Why did you not call for me?”

David knelt down before his sister and gently removed the whip off her back. Esme had not spoken, but David knew she was awake and conscious of him being there. He did not know how to lift his sister without causing her any amount of pain, but he could not leave her there to get help. The blood was still wet and red, so he did not know how she was going to sleep tonight with any means of comfort, but he had to bring her to her room. The fire in the drawing room had gone down and now the frosty air could be felt from outside. He lifted Esme from the ground without a sound or flinch, so he must not have hurt her too much. He moved slowly to the door, which he had left open, and started up the staircase, going one step slowly at a time. Esme still had not spoken, but David knew she was still with him and was glad he had come back downstairs. Even when it was the two of them alone, he always listened for her door to be shut and locked.

After what seemed an eternity, he was at the top step and turned right to her room which was next to his. Somehow he managed the handle and opened the door, with comforting heat from the fire. But it was only comforting to David since Esme immediately started when the warmth settled over her back making the wounds sting like a thousand bees. This was the first reaction she had made since the assault, and now the rest of her emotions started coming over her too. But after a light bout of tears, which David had felt on his arm, she forced herself to stop since she did not want to break down just then. If he had not been holding his sister right then, David would have stormed into his father’s room and shot the blackguard while he was sleeping, even if it was a coward’s way of killing.

“It is alright, Esme, you are alright. I am here now, and Jane is here to help you and take care of you.” David was so thankful that he had not told Esme’s maid to go to her own bed and leave her mistress alone, as often happened, since he could not have done anything for her alone.

When the woman saw the wheals crisscrossing multiple times, she almost fainted, but knew Lord David and Lady Esme would have hated her for it and needed her help. Instead she told Lord David to put his sister on the turned down bed and to try to pull her loosened hair away from the wounds. There was no way the pieces of her dress were coming off without warm water and a salve, so the maid left the room to hurry and get what she was going to need.

Alone in the room, David pulled up Esme’s dark hair away from her back and found a pin inside the strands to keep it securely up. Esme was as still as when he had first found her, though her breathing was heavier, which he took as a good sign. With idle hands, all David could do then was sit beside Esme and talk to her to keep her sane after such abuse. Since he knew she would respond easier he spoke to her in French, their mother’s language.

“I will not ask you to torture yourself and tell me what happened, but I am not going to allow him to get away with this, Esme. I cannot leave you at the end of the week and know this is occurring often.” Esme turned her head slightly since her neck was stiff and looked at her brother with one eye. A wave of anger came over him as he saw the pain etched across his sister’s face and in her eyes. He would never forgive him for this, as long as he lived, and would curse the man when he was dead and hopefully rotting in hell.

“It is a good thing I am not staying then. Papa told me I am going to be married. He has chosen me a husband.” David could not believe he had heard Esme right, she had probably used the wrong word, but he knew she would not joke with him about that. His anger was replaced for the moment with sadness and grief since being taken away so far from home probably meant that they wouldn’t see each other for a long time, if ever again. He put his hand gently on her head and stroked her temple.

“When?”

“Friday. I hope you will be allowed as a witness.”

“He damned well better.” The almost receding rose hue in his eyes turned a more scarlet colour just then. “Who is the bridegroom?” David was afraid of the answer since, knowing the Marquis, she would be married to a man like him or worse.

“The Duke of Argyle; he’s a Scotch nobleman in the highlands.” David didn’t know if he was breathing or not. “Do you know anything about him?”

“Actually, my knowledge is as limited as yours.”

Esme didn’t have time to be disappointed since Jane came back in the room with her arms loaded with supplies. David rose to take them from her and put them down on a table close to the bed. Helping the maidservant, they each sat on either side of the bed and together removed the ribbons of material stuck to her skin. Not caring of getting blood on the sheets, Jane and David worked quickly but gently and soon Esme was out of her dress, bandaged from her hips to her neck, and covered only with a single soft new sheet since the added weight of more irritated her skin. Jane left the room with the soiled materials and bed linens, still not believing that she had witnessed such treatment, and on a lady no less. It was enough to feel disgusted sharing a roof with such a deranged man, whatever his position and title.

David had not yet left Esme’s room and was debating whether or not he even should. He had made his sister as comfortable as she possibly could be on her front, but he wished there was more to be done. He was thinking about Esme’s future and that he would not be there to guard her. Despite their reckless personalities, David would have killed the King if he had harmed his sister. She would be alone…one again…without his protection.

“Go to bed David. You are as tired as I am. We went to the same party and as entertaining as it was, and as much as we would hate to admit it, we are still feeling its effects. You drank more than me, so I am sure you have a headache. You need your sleep as much as I do. Papa will stay to see you off Thursday, and I am sure he has plans for you in the meantime. Your valet and Jane need to pack the two trunks we have brought with us and you need to help me walk proudly with a stiff back.” David wished she had not referred to their short time together, but he had to be sensible and enjoy as much of it he could until leaving for the hell pit during war known as Prussia. Maybe if he jumped of the side of the boat in the channel and swam back home... “Go to sleep. I...am...tired...” Esme’s eyes closed on the last word and in a minute her breathing was steady and even with sleep. David kissed her forehead, not wanting to look at the top of the bandages, and left the room silently. He did not look at the room his father was in, which was thankfully in the opposite direction down the hall, and went to his own, where he stripped naked and fell into bed. Esme was right about that headache...

“Jane will make sure I get your address so I will be able to write in Scotland.” It was Wednesday night, and the siblings were still awake in Esme’s room. She was propped up against the pillows since she was still sore if she twisted her waist. David wished they didn’t have to have this conversation, but that was how his world was spinning at the moment.

“If I receive your letters, and if I am alive, I will reply dutifully. You know I only want to hear from you.” Thinking of his older sisters, plus sister-in-law, made him want to snort. From an early age the older set had not got on too well with the younger and now the gap was widening further between them.

“I wonder what all of our friends are going to think about you being a soldier and me being a wife.”

“I cannot believe I am going through with this, but if I try to runaway, he will find me and make me go back, no matter how demeaning to my masculinity and age. Or worse, I will be cut off from my allowance and the inheritance Mama left for me. If I thought there were any left of her family-”

“Do not torture yourself with ‘what if’s’ when you know there are none. Besides, what could you do in a country that is at war, with its natural citizens needing the bread you put in your mouth.” David knew she was right and could not help but feel miserable. He was a lover, not a fighter. Taking the lives of his fellow countrymen was going to kill him.

“I wish I did not have to fight the French. Why cannot that damned Corsican stay on his spit of an island and be happy?”

“It’s no use trying to change the past. Just remember that I will miss you terribly. I wish you did not have to leave England. At least if you were here…I would know sooner if you were safe or not.” Despite trying to stay strong, Esme could not hold back a few tears over her brother. He was going to a place so harsh and cruel that she knew if (or when) he came back to her, he would never be the same David sitting close to her, trying not to reciprocate her emotions.

“The only reason I will not deliberately put myself in the line of fire and blow my heart to bits is to come back safely to you. I have a feeling this war is going to continue far longer. It is almost 1801 and Napoleon is just getting started. Austria is his in everything but name, and who knows where he will strike next. Though Prussia is not involved yet, I know that we will soon be called on.”

“Stop! I am sick of the thought of war and your place in it. This is our last night together, and I don’t want to waste it thinking negative thoughts. For right now, all is right with the world and the things in it.” Esme looked away from David’s face and up onto the wall above the fireplace where a large portrait hung. Her eyes lingered there, which made her brother turn his head and look with her. David spoke in French for the rest of the night.

“Do you think she knows about us?” David felt a small lump in his throat asking the question, always moved by the raven haired beauty on canvas.

“Of course; maman was an angel on earth, so why not in heaven? She is up there with God, and together they will keep us safe.”

“I wonder how Bethany or Claudia would fare in the highlands. One thing I will accord our father, he certainly knows which bachelors will suit his daughters.” Esme had a sudden vision of her older sisters waist deep in snow, and had to laugh.

“I wouldn’t know unto whom it would be crueler, them or the foreigner. Bethany would willingly go just for the sadistic pleasure of forcing what she would think of as Christ-less pagans to convert under her methods. You would have to reassure Claudia that there would be enough food that she wouldn’t starve. It is a blessing they are married to the pansies they are, whose business is in London and nowhere else.” Both their older sisters were married to ‘parsons’ saving the souls of the people in Chelsea during the day, but gallivanting off to the brothels, and escaping from their wives, at night. She didn’t know what they had to fear since Bethany had taken a vow of chastity years ago, which was why she had married a widower with two sons, and Claudia was too lazy to copulate.

“I must take this moment to express the pang of sympathy I feel for Adam whenever I am in the same room as him. I would not wish anyone to be shackled to Anne, save maybe my future commanding officers. The poor soul has the lifelong challenge of chipping away enough ice to beget an heir with that woman.”

“On a positive note, at least you are not on Papa’s matrimonial chopping block. I’m sure Anne has a sister or a cousin who’s single and looking for a well off second-son.”

“Hold your tongue, because then fate would have it happen, and then I would willingly go to war and start another just to avoid being home.”

“Mais, I thought we were not talking about it for tonight.” Esme looked around her room, which she considered the most beautiful since it had been her mother’s before the lodge was given to David. “Do you remember coming here when we were younger and getting into the bed with maman so Papa would not find us and make us get up early?” The memory put a smile on David’s already striking face and made it even more handsome. The thought of it being scarred was akin to sacrilege in Esme’s mind.

One memory fed another, and the siblings spent a better part of the night hashing their childhood until their throats were sore with laughter. When they couldn’t speak another word, David lay down atop his sister’s bed next to her, with her head against his shoulder, breathing even and peacefully. So they were the next morning when David’s valet went snooping for him after finding his master’s bed vacant, half afraid the young gentleman had run off. Despite a strict itinerary for the day, the valet let both persons sleep longer than was required, considering it his farewell present.

A/N: So this is another project I have been thinking about and toying with these past few months. I love historical stories, so I thought I'd try my hand at one as well. This plot was originally suposed to be set in modern times, but I liked how it fit in the early ninteenth century. This is also my first foray into third-person, so let's see how this works out. So you know the drill, you read, you review, so please tell me what you think and feel. Any and all comments appreciated.

-Saami