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“These people are who she will be surrounded by the rest of her life,” Mary argued, “What I am doing, I am doing for her own good!”

Hugo let out a mirthless laugh.

“Forcing her to betray her natural self is not for her own good, Ms. Kinderson. It is an act of pure torture for her spirit,” he shot back. “Now if Miss Seraphina tells me in earnest she has no interest in me, I will back down. But until that happens, I will not stop pursuing her.”

“Youwillstop, Your Grace, or my-”

Mary stopped, her eyes suddenly widening with shame.

“Your what, Ms. Kinderson?” Hugo taunted, “Your husband? Your lover?”

Mary’s nostrils flared as she grit her teeth.

“How. Dare. You?” she hissed.

“No Ms. Kinderson,” he shot back, “How dareyou.You are supposed to be a parent. A nurturer. Not a player moving her daughter as a piece upon a chess board as she tries to gain absolution for sins she did not commit. I am not the monster here, Madam. You are.”

Hugo’s temper was burning white hot within him, and he knew he had to walk away before he caused a scene and truly damaged Seraphina’s reputation. He ignored whatever damaging words were now pouring out of Mary’s mouth, and without looking back, he left the party

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Unacceptable,” Mary seethed later on, the carriage taking them home. “Positively unacceptable.”

“I did request he let me go, Mama,” Seraphina insisted. She tried to sound forceful, but instead her words came out meek. She felt exhausted from the night’s events. Not in her body, but in her mind.

Mary let out a sigh, but her glance toward her daughter was not one of disappointment this time, but pity.

“I did see that,” she admitted. “I fully blame the brute. And you are lucky, I suppose. I thought for sure that your dance with him was going to isolate you, but instead you finally filled your dance card. I suppose in a way I owe him thanks.”

Seraphina fought the urge to look away from her mother and frown. She was not going to mention that the other gentleman peppered her with questions regarding the Duke. Nor was shegoing to mention that none of them had asked her any questions about herself; other than if he was threatening her.

She knew that to lie and say yes would have been best for her own reputation, but she could not bring herself to do it. As much as the man annoyed her, she would not contribute to the spreading of harmful gossip. So she had said no, that the talk was purely casual.

“Well, I told you this would happen, did I not?” Mary sighed, looking around the empty receiving room the next morning.

Seraphina chewed her bottom lip worriedly.

“You did,” she agreed, looking at the wilting bouquets of flowers. It was nearly the end of calling hours, and thus far, only a couple of her previous suitors had shown up as promised. This time, all of them empty-handed, and with little to say to her.

“This is not good,” Mary said, shaking her head. “This will not do at all. We need to do something. Perhaps submit something to the gossip papers stating that your interest in the Duke of Merrivale is false.”

“It is false,” Seraphina replied readily. More or less, she thought with a twinge of guilt. It needed to be false, anyway. Even if a small part of her felt otherwise.

Hugo was annoying, yes. But also, he seemed to be the only man that could look at her and truly see her. Unlike the others, he didnot view her kindness as naive or “adorable”, but a trait to be honored. Perhaps even protected.

Seraphina blinked rapidly, forcing such thoughts away, and stood up.

“Perhaps you may be right,” she agreed, fidgeting with one of the wilting bouquets. “Or we could host a gathering here. Not a ball, but perhaps a dinner party. Father could come, perhaps, and some of our friends along with the gentlemen who have been pursuing me. We could create a situation where we are sure that the Duke is not attendance.”

“Now you are thinking, my girl!” Mary said excitedly, hurrying over to her daughter.

“Oh, I am so glad you are starting to see the seriousness of this situation,” she sighed as she took Seraphina’s hands. “I know you try to be kind, but this time it has gone too far. Wemustexclude him from our lives. We must-”

Mary’s words stopped as a servant entered the room carrying an envelope they both recognized. Seraphina felt a rush of strange loneliness as her mother let go of her hands and rushed toward the message, snatching it excitedly from the servant’s hands.

“It is from your father,” Mary said in a rush, tearing at the envelope.

“I know,” Seraphina replied, forcing a smile. “I recognized the stationery. What does it say? Does he wish you to come to dinner again?”