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“Your Grace,” she greeted, feeling her pulse as she curtseyed. Without thinking, she extended her hand. “How good to see you again.”

“A mutual feeling, I am sure,” Hugo replied, bowing.

His thumb stroked over her knuckles, a trace of heat following his touch. It traveled through her hand and up to her cheeks, and suddenly she wished she had remembered her fan.

“I had no idea you were a supporter of the arts,” she went on.

“Some of them, yes,” he mused, casting a questioning look toward Lord Fellon’s painting.

“Your Grace?” Lord Fellon asked, inserting himself into the conversation. He took a step in front of Seraphina, as if attempting to separate her from Hugo. “You are a Duke?”

Hugo gave him a curt nod of his head. “Hugo Fenwick, Duke of Merrivale. Frankly I do not care who you are, though, so you may spare me your introduction.”

Seraphina’s brows shot up as Lord Fellon’s dropped down, both of them startled by the Duke’s rudeness.

“Ah, yes. I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” Lord Fellon grit out, “I have indeed heard of you. Quite a bit, actually.”

“All rather vicious, I am sure,” Hugo replied dryly, his gaze focused on Seraphina.

“You have been away for some time. Might I enlighten you on London manners?” Fellon answered, his voice equally dry.

“No need. I believe it is hypocritical to discuss manners when you are hinting at rumors,” Hugo replied with an uncaring expression. “I should say they are as unimportant as this painting before us.”

Anger eroded Seraphina’s previous mirth at seeing him again. He was being so rude!

“Perhaps if you were not so discourteous, he might not be inclined to believe said rumors,” She could not help but insist to Hugo.

“Not everyone deserves my kindness, Miss Seraphina,” he said to her, as if the other Lord was not even there.

“Miss Seraphina,” Lord Fellon exhaled, giving her a disappointed look, “I was not aware that you kept such ill company.”

“I don’t,” she answered quickly, which earned her a raised brow from Hugo.

“I mean I do,” she added with haste. “But we have only met once. Or, twice, actually. There was the dance, and then he called on me, but I-”

“I am not just her company,” Hugo said, saving her from blabbering she could not seem to stop, “I am her intended.”

Seraphina’s mouth dropped open in utter surprise as Fellon’s eyes narrowed at her for answers.

“Is this true?” He asked

“I- no. I mean, he asked, but I-” She paused, realizing she had not actually refused him. She had been too flustered by the instant, heated connection she felt to him when he’d laid his hands upon her.

“Our engagement is imminent,” Hugo answered for her, gaining Felton’s attention, “Now, I suggest you go find another lady to impress with your-” he paused, taking an elaborate pause to roll his eyes toward the painting- “art.”

Lord Fellon sneered, but he took a step back.

“You should be careful, Miss Seraphina,” he said as he moved away, “There are certain perils attached to His Grace.”

Seraphina opened her mouth to apologize but Hugo was quicker.

“Perhaps you should heed them, Lord Fellon,” he warned.

Seraphina stared in shock as the two of men stared one another down for another long moment, and then Lord Fellon left without another word.

Hugo then turned to her, offering his arm.

“Come, let us find something more interesting to look at,” he encouraged, his tone suddenly light.