The anger in him was so close to the surface, he feared one wrong word or action from someone would see it unleashed. He would be just like his father then. The old duke had raised his son using discipline. No matter the situation, if he felt Daniel needed whipping, he undertook the punishment with relish. Daniel had learnt to keep out of his father’s way, yet he’d never learnt to be submissive when the punishment was being meted out. He had taunted his father, smiling through his pain, enraging him further until one day his mother had tried to intervene. Closing his eyes he let the memories come; perhaps the pain would keep his anger in check. The late Duchess of Stratton had meant everything to her son. Daniel had loved her from his first breath. She was beautiful, kind and loving - everything her husband was not. He remembered the day his father had dragged him into his study after he had broken a vase, demanding an apology that at twelve years of age, Daniel had already been strong enough to refuse.
