Forced to Love

The Gentlemen gathered around the table as the cards once again where shared over the green felt.
The lights had burned low in this house where only the very rich and significant amused themselves, and only the really big gamblers, or the one with to great losses to carry, remained.

One of the newly arrived spectators shoved his hat down to his neck, and curious asked a rather old man standing beside him, what was happening.
“This is quite amusing.” The old man answered as he smoked a cigar.
“This may be the most exiting game I have witnessed in a long time. Pray, good man, do you not know who the younger of the two gentlemen are?”
“No, who is he?”
“That, dear son, is Lord Nathaniel Darshia, the Duke of Tabitha!”
As he heard this, the newly arrived took a sharp breath.
“Lord Darshia, what an honour! Why is he here? I thought he had gone north to Tabitha.”
“No, he is still here, but what is interesting is the prize!" Whispered the older.
“What prize?”
“For the game." The old man mumbled as he was too engrossed in the game to notice his listeners’ impatience.
“Pray, good sir, what is the prize?”

“Of what I’ve heard,” The older man said. “Has the opponent literary gambled away his only daughter to Lord Darshia!”