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"What do you mean?"

"You never seem to believe in yourself. When we do things, you seem scared to fail, even if you cannot. You never do anything wrong, yet it seems to be all that you wait for."

She looked ahead again, as though unable to meet his eye. He hoped that he had not done anything to cause her offence.

"I want to say that it was theton," she sighed, "but it was more than that."

"Surely it had an effect, though?"

"Of course. I have always been compared to my sister. When we were younger, she was complimented on her looks and her talents, while I was put on reducing diet after reducing diet and given harsher and harsher tutors. Nothing that I did was good enough. My father told me that if I was exceptional in other areas, people would be forgiving of my unfortunate… stature."

"I do not see anything unfortunate about your stature."

She pulled her horse to a stop, blushing profusely.

"It is true!" he pressed. "In all honesty, I cannot understand why ladies think so much about that sort of thing, nor why your father would have cared so much. I think you look wonderful."

She quite evidently did not want to accept what he was saying. Then again, Morgan wondered if she had ever heard nice things about her from those other than her three friends.

"Thetondid not help," she continued, not acknowledging him. "The ladies were the worst. They would mock me incessantly, saying that I looked like a farmer's daughter, and that I was unfit for the nobility. It did not help that I love botany. I looked ridiculous, dirt under my nails from being in the gardens andgrass stains on my skirts. It is no surprise to me that I was not well-liked."

"You must not say that about yourself. You have a passion, which makes you far more interesting than any of those other ladies. They can use a fan, and that is about it. I cannot believe that you would heed anything that such people have to say about you."

"It is strange, yes, but it is all that I ever heard. I was not thin enough, not beautiful enough, and nothing that I did ever seemed to change that. I wish that it did."

"I am very pleased that it did not."

She smiled, and he hoped that she believed him. It was, after all, the truth. He may well not have looked upon her a second time if she looked the same as every other lady. He would have married her, but he never would have been as captivated by her as he found himself to be.

"How does thetonperceive you?" she asked. "You are the Duke now, but you were once a second son."

"They saw me as precisely that. The second son and the spare. I was never the important one, as I told you with that lady I was engaged to. I was not Thomas, and there was no changing that. I did not care too much, as it meant I had more time to fix what he would break."

"Second-borns also have more freedoms, do they not?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but I never had the time to enjoy them. I was always doing the work of a duke without the title. Even before the death of my father, I was following after my brother and trying to mend things. The duel that was the end of him was not the first that he was challenged to. It was actually the seventh."

She gasped, and though it was nothing that shocked him anymore, when he thought about the things his brother had done he realized just how shameful it was.

"You were a good brother," she replied. "The best, I would say."

"I wish I had been able to do more. I wish I had been able to keep him out of trouble, and that he had learned how to be. It was always strange when people assumed that I was the older brother, and I always longed to be the younger one. I never wanted the title, I simply wanted to be myself. I wanted to attend university and study botany and do whatever pleased me."

"If it is any consolation, you are a very good duke. The staff often tell me that you take care of them, and from what they have told me you have a very happy town."

"I do feel consoled by that. I try to make everyone happy, but sometimes… well, it concerns me that I cannot make a mistake. A single lapse in judgment could ruin everything, and that means that I cannot afford to make any."

"I do not know about that. I think that–"

She screamed, but it was cut off.

He turned sharply, only to see her horse throwing her off. The horse bucked and neighed and Morgan froze, pleading that she would not be hurt. She landed on the ground, and remained laying there for a moment. He dove from his own horse and quickly soothed hers. When it was calm once more, he ran to her. She was on the ground, unmoving, and his blood ran cold.

She could not be hurt. He could not bear the thought of it.

"Dorothy?" he asked gently before his voice filled with urgency. "Dorothy, are you all right?"

Miraculously, she groaned quietly, pushing herself up from the heap she had landed in.