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“ I have three more gentlemen,” Nathaniel said. “That brings the possible number of suitors up to six.”

Evelyn looked at him. Three weeks had passed since her father had shown up unannounced, and she had found herself talked into a corner. She had to find someone she could court, even if it was just for show. A part of her had hoped that Nathaniel would volunteer.

No, that is foolish. You must stop thinking like that , she reminded herself as she sliced her knife through her bun.

Whatever was between them, it wasn’t enough for him to want to cross that invisible line between them. She had hoped that he would, especially since it had become relatively clear that finding an eligible gentleman willing to court her was going to be far more difficult than she had anticipated.

She had done a thorough job of alienating just about everybody, which had, of course, been the plan.

What a fool she had been… Although thinking back, the parade of hapless gentlemen had been rather impossible.

Nathaniel truly did not have a very good sense of what sort of gentleman would suit her.

Had he picked the wrong kind of men on purpose? Because she had?—

“No,” she muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, looking up. “I did not know you had such a strong aversion to Merlot.”

“What?”

“I said that’s what we should serve at the ball, and your reaction made me think that you feel this particular red wine had a rather peculiar history that I am unaware of. Did it assault one of your ball gowns?”

“No,” she said. “It is fine. Serve whatever you wish. I just feel it’s pointless. Utterly pointless. I will never find a gentleman to court me.”

“Not if you enter the evening determined not to. But if you smile and you are charming, and you hide that sharp tongue of yours… Perhaps we can reel somebody in.”

“Reel somebody in?” she said. “Am I a fisherman?”

“When it comes to gentlemen, you should be.” He leaned back. “Would you like to fence later?”

She shook her head. “No. I am seeing my aunt Eugenia. We are going to Bond Street together. I have not been able to talk to her properly in quite some time.”

This was true. Ever since her father’s reappearance, she hadn’t been able to go to the London townhouse. Charlotte and Marianne had come to visit her, as had Eugenia, but not that often. Her father had installed himself in the London house rather like a frog on a log, refusing to move.

Well, that was not entirely true. He had moved all the way to the House of Lords, where he had attempted to talk to peers and spread as much discord as possible.

Fortunately, he had managed to thoroughly ruin his reputation long ago, and therefore, no one took him too seriously.

After all, he was a mere earl, and Nathaniel was a duke.

When it came to passing bills, most would rather side with a duke, even if he had a rather peculiar living arrangement and suffered under some scandal because of that, rather than an earl who was known to throw away his money as though it grew on a tree.

“Very well,” he said. “Another time. Pray, did you say you know Lady Annabelle? Julian’s cousin?”

“I do,” she said. “From finishing school.”

“Well then, we shall also invite her to the ball. I hear she’s rather a good dancer.”

She narrowed her eyes. Did he intend to dance with Annabelle?

“I thought you did not care for dancing very?—”

“I adore dancing,” he said and chuckled. “I only did not wish to dance with you that evening.”

“Oh,” she said. Why did this feel like a slap directly to her heart?

She knew exactly what he had meant. He hadn’t danced with her so she could dance with possible suitors, and yet the way he said it now, a part of her wanted to take it the wrong way, wanted to be hurt.

But why? Why was he making her feel this way?

Her life had begun to resemble one of those tragic gothic novels that Mrs. Radcliffe was so known for. The tragic heroine, robbed of her octogenarian husband by way of a date pit, forced to live in the home of an insufferable tyrant who would not allow her to live the life she wanted.

Although that wasn’t true, she had been rather grateful for that errant date pit.

It wasn’t a kind thing to say, but it was the truth.

It had given her freedom. And Nathaniel wasn’t a tyrant.

He was annoying, but there was more to him.

He had protected her and her sisters, after all.

And at times, she felt that he truly wanted to be in her company.

That he wanted to be with her, and yet at other times, he was pushing her away.

“I have another thing I wanted to ask you,” he said, and she looked up.

“Yes?” she said.

“It is an offer I wanted to make.”

“As long as it does not involve something weird.”

“No,” he said with a chuckle. “Actually, I wanted to offer you to stay in the dower house. Lady Appleton has written and said that she intends to stay in Ireland for a while. The air has proven quite good for her lungs. I suppose your scheming has succeeded.”

“You’re giving me the dower house?” she explained, her jaw dropping, but he shook his head immediately.

“No, no. You misunderstand. I’m not giving it to you.

It is still hers, but she has written stating that if you wish to stay there temporarily until you find a husband, you are welcome to do so.

If you’re comfortable living amongst her ancient artifacts and making your way through countless jars of her cranberry preserves, which she has offered up as well. ”

“But if it is not mine permanently, why would I take it up?”

“It would be better,” he said. “At least then we could say that you are the Duchess who lives in the dower house. Not the widow living with the Duke in the main house. It would help.”

“It would help you, you mean,” she said, and crossed her arms, then reminded herself to maintain poise.

“It would help us both,” he said. “Less scandal, and it will help you find a husband, which we have established you must.”

He was pushing her away again. Further away. He was shoving her with full strength, all the way into the house at the other end of the estate.

She wanted to argue, tell him that she did not understand him, that it was clear that he cared for her, and yet he was pushing her away. Why? She wanted to grab him and shake the truth out of him, but she knew none of these were options.

“Very well. I shall pack my belongings. I suppose at least I will not be disturbed by sudden surprise renovations.”

“Well,” he said with a smile, “the old drawing room in the dower house is rather musty. I had a mind to send somebody over there and rip up the tapestry.” He winked at her, but she was not in the mood for jesting.

“I shall pack my belongings this evening,” she said, and got up. “Good day, Your Grace,” she said, and walked away, aware that she had used his title for the first time.

“Evelyn,” he called after her, and when she looked over her shoulder, he looked uncertain—something that was quite unusual for him.

“Yes?” she replied.

His tongue ran over his lips, leaving a shimmering gleam.

“Nothing,” he said. “Let me know if there’s anything you need at your new house.”

“I shall,” she said and walked away, not wanting him to see the tears that sprang to her eyes.

“He’s discarding me like an unused broom,” she complained later that afternoon as she and her aunt Eugenia sat on a bench in Hyde Park, sharing candied orange peels.

“Surely it does not seem as dire as all that,” Eugenia said. “An old broom?”

“A lame horse, then. Something unwanted,” Evelyn complained and shook her head. “Banishing me to the dower house.”

“But that is what you wanted. Residency in the dower house.”

“Yes, but not like this. I wanted it to be mine permanently. Not a place to stay while he seeks to marry me off to the first?—”

“Do not say ‘highest bidder,’” Eugenia said. “It is not fair to talk about him that way. He has protected you and your sisters from your father’s wrath.”

It was true. She could not fault him for that. But why couldn’t he just… She didn’t even know how to finish that thought.

“Aunt Eugenia, the truth is, I thought that he cared for me. He almost kissed me, or so I thought.”

“Is that so?” Eugenia said with a bright, beaming smile. “That is wonderful!”

“No,” Evelyn said, shaking her head. “It is not wonderful. Because he did not, in fact, kiss me. And it wasn’t just once—it was twice that I thought he might kiss me. I am like one of those unwanted pieces of fruit left behind in the bowl, shriveling away to become a raisin or a prune.”

Eugenia chuckled at this. “A wrinkly prune? I hardly think so. You are beautiful. Have you considered talking to him about this?”

“I cannot very well walk up to the man and demand to know if he loves me or not.”

“Why not?” Eugenia said. “I walked up to your uncle, and I told him in no uncertain terms that if he was not interested, then he had to tell me there and then so I could find myself another suitor. Youth and beauty do not last forever.”

“Yes, but if he says no, I’ll be mortified.”

“And if he says yes, you will be married. You will be a duchess.”

Evelyn pursed her lips. “I already am a duchess. I do wish that those people who like to talk about me as the ‘one-day bride’ or whatever it is they have come to call me now would remember that.”

“There is the spirit, my dear. I say talk to him. And if he rejects you, then you shall hold your head high and move on to a different gentleman.”

Evelyn picked up a piece of sweet peel, bit into the rind, and worked it with her teeth, chewing as though it had somehow offended her.

“He has had his chances—more than one. We practically live together. No, I will not make a fool of myself. If he does not wish to tell me how he feels, even though he knows that my father is determined to take everything that is mine, then I shall not beg. Instead, I shall…” She exhaled and dropped back against the bench.

“Instead, I shall have to find myself a husband I can tolerate.”

“Very well,” her aunt said. “So your sisters and I should stop spreading rumors about you to scare away potential?—”

“Yes, please,” she said. “No. Continue to scare the horrid ones away. Those who are old enough to be my grandfather, and the stingy ones. And the unkind ones. The ugly ones.”

Aunt Eugenia raised her hand. “If you continue, there shall be no gentleman left for us to not scare away.”

“Still scaring gentlemen away, I hear?” A deep voice came from behind her, and she leaped up and spun around, dropping the bag of lemon peels onto the ground.

“Goodness,” Eugenia said, and collected them as though they were precious pieces of gold.

“Lord Halston,” she said, recognizing the man from Almack’s. “How long has it been?” It felt like years, but it could be no more than a few weeks.

“A pleasure to see you again, Your Grace,” he said, and bowed, then extended his hand to kiss hers. “You have been keeping well?”

“Reasonably,” she said, then turned to her aunt. “May I introduce my aunt? Lady Eugenia Harcourt.”

“Ah, yes, Sir Frederick’s wife. I remember your husband. A wonderful chap. A shame we lost him.”

“Indeed,” her aunt said, her hand clenching around the bag of sweets, the paper crinkling. “I should leave the two of you to talk,” she said and walked toward the next bench where she sat with her back to them, but angled just enough to still count as a proper chaperone.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “I have not seen you at any function in a while.”

“My trip took longer than I had anticipated, but I am back now. And you? I could not help but overhear that you were still rejecting suitors left, right, and center.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she had not anticipated being overheard.

“Not exactly rejecting. But I continue my search. And I simply know what I like.”

“And I commend that. Any young lady ought to know what she desires. Pray, if I may be so bold, would you like to take a turn with me? The weather is lovely and we are both here, save for your aunt.”

She bit her bottom lip and considered his offer.

Lord Halston was handsome. He was charming, and he understood her requirements for a husband.

This was good. She had not envisioned him as a potential husband, but with Nathaniel all but booting her out of the house, and her father determined to get his hands on both her jointure so he could marry her off to somebody else, she knew she could not be as picky.

She had hoped against hope that Nathaniel would turn out to find her as alluring as she found him, but that appeared not to be the case.

Lord Halston seemed more than interested.

Besides, she didn’t need to plan for their impending wedding right away.

All he asked was for her to walk in the park with him, and she could certainly do that.