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“It is quite alright, Martha,” Isabella spoke up. “I will be fine.”

Martha hesitated. She looked between them, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of leaving her alone. “Well... I will be right outside this door. Shout out if you need anything.”

Slowly, Martha walked across the room, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her, leaving Isabella and the Duke alone for the first time.

It was a strange sensation that crept inside of Isabella as she forced herself to meet the Duke’s gaze. Some of it was fear, for she suddenly felt powerless and completely at this man’s mercy. Alone as they were. The darkened room. Even the flames in the fireplace seemed to have softened, as if smothered by presence.

But there was something else... the way her heart raced in her chest... how warm she suddenly felt in her body... all while unable to look away, even if she felt that she should. Isabella was both terrified and entranced.

“I want to apologize for the subversion,” the Duke began; his voice deep and commanding. “Lord Langham handled this situation poorly.”

“Oh.” She blinked, caught off guard by the apology. “That is quite fine --”

“But it was necessary,” he spoke over her. “The fact is that I find myself faced with a dilemma, and after confessing it to Lord Langham, it appears as if you, Miss Gouldsmith, might be the perfect person to help me solve it.”

She hesitated, not certain if she should speak. But he raised an eyebrow at her, as if giving his permission. “Wh -- what is this dilemma that you speak of?”

“Next week, I am hosting a dinner with some members of my family. My mother and my grandmother to name a few. Who will be there is not important. What is important is your place at that dinner.”

“My place?”

He nodded. “I would like for you to attend, Miss Gouldsmith, at which time, when asked, you will confirm that the two of us are courting one another and have been doing so for some --”

“What!” Isabella blustered before she could stop herself.

His Grace’s jaw clenched at the interruption. He paused, making sure she was finished. And then, he continued. “That we are courting. That we are happy. That we are enjoying one another’s company, as is right. And that as far as you are aware, we intend to remain in such a state until at least the end of the Season.”

He looked at her for a response, to which Isabella gave none.

Her mind spun at his words. She tried to fathom what he was saying. To make sense of it! Surely, she had misunderstood?

“Well?” he promoted.

“I do not...” She cleared her throat.... and again, attempted to flatten her dress and push her hair from her eyes. “I do not understand.”

“I was perfectly clear.”

“You wish for us to pretend to be courting one another?”

“For the evening, yes.”

“But why?” she asked in a fluster, her mind spinning faster than she could keep track of. “We do not know one another. We have never met or spoken – why me? Why any of this!”

Careful, Isabella. Do not become irate. When that happens, you tend to speak without thinking and I very much get the sense that His Grace is not the type to appreciate that.

“The reason is not important.”

“Of course it is!”

His jaw clenched again, and he fixed a warning glare on her. “What is important is that this will benefit you as much as it will me.” She almost laughed at that but forced it down. “I have been speaking with your uncle of your circumstances and --”

“My circumstances?” she cut him off again. Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth when she saw the side of his mouth twitching.

“Yes...” He growled softly. “Your circumstances. At twenty and one you have no suitors, nor is there any indication that this Season will change that for you. From what I have heard of you, there is good reason for it.”

“What does that mean --” Again, she caught her tongue, and again it was too late.

“If word spreads that you and I are courting, it will do wonders for your reputation,” he continued. “One night is all I ask. A single night of pretending and the effect it will have on your life will more than cover the...” He clicked his tongue. “The moral quandary which I am sure you are feeling.”