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“ A nd then he said he would be my fool from here on,” Evelyn concluded her story, and sat beaming as Annabelle, Marianne, and Charlotte sat around her. Aunt Eugenia sat in the corner, working on a piece of embroidery as she looked up.

“I told you it would be so romantic once you found your way to one another,” Charlotte said and beamed.

“Romantic, yes,” Marianne replied, “but so unnecessarily complicated. Could you not have simply told one another how you felt long ago and avoided all of this?”

“I don’t know,” Annabelle said. “I think it is rather romantic how they found their way to one another through all of this… other people. It shows that their love was true.”

“I have to agree with Marianne,” Evelyn said.

“It was rather foolish that we did not simply speak to one another. But at least I’m glad I understand now why he acted the way he did.

His uncle made him feel unworthy. And then Halston showed up and reminded him of everything he thought he had left behind.

It’s no wonder he retreated. And then there was our foolish argument…

and I misunderstood him. I’m so glad it is finally over.

The future is going to be much brighter,” she declared.

“I am glad to see my positive Evelyn back,” Aunt Eugenia said, “but there remains one thing that is unresolved, is there not?”

“Oh, Eugenia, and what is that?” She knew exactly what her aunt was going to say, but decided to make her spell it out anyway.

“Your father. You must make peace with him. He skulks around the house looking…”

“It is true,” Marianne said. “Do you recall the one time we made him come and watch the three-hour ballet with us? He looks like that—but worse.”

“Goodness gracious,” Evelyn said. “We can’t have that.” She rolled her eyes, not caring that it wasn’t dignified. She was with her sisters and friends. It did not matter. “He has made it quite clear what he thinks of me. I have nothing to say to him.”

“But he is your father. Perhaps if you spoke to him—explained to him—he would understand.”

“You cannot believe that, Auntie,” she said. “After everything that has happened? After everything he did? I shall never forgive him.”

“Perhaps you could involve him in your scheme to help the climbing boys,” Annabelle suggested. “You may think badly of him, but he has alliances in the House of Lords.”

“But do we need him?” Marianne asked. “Now that we have the Duke?”

Evelyn smiled. The evening after they had finally declared themselves to one another, the two of them sat together on the settee, their arms slung around each other, and he spoke of plans for the future, of their dreams. He had promised that he would do what he could to help her in her venture and to involve himself in the House of Lords to affect the changes he had always wished to see from afar, even though she knew it would be a big step for him.

Even now, he was meeting with Julian to discuss terms.

“If we have Father and Nathaniel and Lord—” she paused, thinking of Julian’s title— “we could make a difference.”

“And Julian is going to help,” Annabelle said. “He still feels dreadful about what Charmaine did. He would do anything for Nathaniel, anyhow. He may not be a sitting member of the House of Lords yet, but his father—my uncle—is, and Julian wields great influence over him.”

Evelyn sighed. “Very well. If you speak to your cousin, and I will speak to my father.”

“He will be back this afternoon,” Eugenia said. “He will be so pleased.”

Evelyn let out a sigh. Why could she not, even for one afternoon, revel in her newfound happiness without some shadow casting itself over her joy?

Later that afternoon, she stood in front of her father’s study, her hand itching and twitching as it curled around the doorknob. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the home that had been both a sanctuary and a burden, and then knocked.

“Enter,” he called.

She stepped into the study and was instantly overcome by memories of the last time she had been summoned here, back when her father had told her she was to marry Bertram Sinclair, Nathaniel’s uncle. Her stomach twisted at the memory of it.

“Evelyn,” her father said. “Please, take a seat.” He motioned to the chair in front of him, but she shuddered, not wanting to sit there, as if the memory of that horrible day would creep into her even further. Instead, she walked to the window.

“Aunt Eugenia said that you would like it if we could talk.”

“Yes,” her father said. “I would like that very much. You see, now that you are Duchess once more, I thought perhaps we could make our peace. All settled now, after all. I know you and the Duke are still undergoing some adjustment?—”

“Nathaniel and I are perfectly happy,” she said.

“Well, that is wonderful,” he said. “I had hoped that we could all come together as a family. In fact, I have a few business opportunities I wanted to discuss with?—”

She rounded on him immediately. “There will be no discussion of business opportunities. I am your daughter. He is your son-in-law. We are not business prospects. All my life, you have done nothing but take advantage of me. You forced me to take Mother’s place when I was far too young to do so.

I should have been flittering about town, cackling at milliner shops and talking to my friends about hats and ribbons and all manner of frivolities.

Instead, I had to always worry about my sisters, this home, our reputation, and everything else. No more, Father. No more.”

Before her mind’s eye, she saw herself as a stern schoolmistress with a wooden ruler in one hand, swinging it dramatically through the air as she railed against an unruly student. And in many ways, her father was just that.

He was well-meaning, but dreadfully incapable. How funny it was that Nathaniel thought himself incapable of being an effective duke, when her father had held his role in society most of his life.

She looked at him, and a wave of pity crashed down on her.

“Father, why do you not simply admit that your capabilities at running an estate are faulty at best? Why not seek help? Why not hire somebody else to help you oversee?—”

“Do not paint me as an incompetent, bumbling fool,” her father said, but he couldn’t meet her eye, because he must have known that he was exactly that. “We have a steward?—”

“—whom you will not allow to do anything. A steward who must answer to every decision he makes, left, right, and center, morning and night. Look what your dealings have done to us, Father. You forced me to marry a seventy-two-year-old?—”

“He was not a grandfather,” her father replied stiffly.

“We will not deal in semantics. He was old enough to be a grandfather ten times over. His skin was like an old glove,” she said. “And you would’ve sent me to bed with him. To bear him children. Think of what Mother would’ve said.”

Then the most extraordinary thing happened.

Her father crumbled before her. He sank into his chair like an old wrinkly tomato left out in the sun for too long. His shoulders curled, and his head drooped so it almost rested on his chest.

“I know it, Evelyn. I know it. I’ve used up all of your mother’s inheritance—everything that was meant to be yours.

I’ve depleted my sister. And then I married you off to an old man, and I would’ve done the same to your sisters.

But I cannot help it. I cannot help myself.

When something looks like a good deal, I simply must—I must…

What if I miss something? What if I miss a wonderful investment that would secure our family? ”

“Father, we have a country estate. We have income. With it managed wisely, we would be perfectly fine. And Nathaniel would help you. But you will not use him to pad your purse.”

“Do you know how humiliating it was—to be spoken to, the way your husband spoke to me? He owes me?—”

“He owes you nothing,” she called. Wishing she had that ruler now, she waved her index finger through the air.

“He protected me when you wouldn’t. It was your responsibility to protect me, and you failed to do so.

He protected my sisters. Who knows who you would have married them off to, given the chance?

I hear Lord Wellingham is still looking for a bride—and on good days, his bad breath only clears out the pew in front and two behind him at church.

Isn’t that a wonderful match for Marianne? ”

She could hardly believe she was speaking to her father this way, but it had to be done.

She had grown into her role as Duchess. And while she had already grown more confident beforehand, knowing that Nathaniel loved her—truly loved her—had given her the final push she needed to confront her father.

“Perhaps Charlotte could be mistress to the Prince of Wales. We all know he doesn’t care for his wife very much. With any luck, she could be Queen.”

Her father looked up at her. “Stop, Evelyn, stop… I understand. I have done wrong. I will try to do better. I hear what people say about you.”

She paused. “What are people saying about me?” She had assumed that all these vicious rumors about her being a one-day widow and such were over now that she was married.

“Oh, you know the ton talks. We cannot pay attention to what is on dit.”

“What is on dit, Father?”

He shrugged. “Just the same rumor—that you finally got what you wanted. Married to the handsome Duke, after dispatching the old…”

“It was not me,” she said. “It was the date seed. Who even serves dates in winter?” She shook her head. Was this never going to end? Was she always going to be looked down upon?

Well, let them look down on her if they wanted to. She was titled now, rightfully so. And she had a handsome husband at her side. Let them talk.

“I know it,” her father said, “but it is what it is. Ignore it. Let us focus instead on what I can do to set this right.”

She sighed. “I know what you can do to set it right. You can help me help others. If you do help me, I might be able to find it in me to forgive you, at least to some degree. As long as you promise not to try what you did with me to my sisters.”

He nodded. “Very well. Then tell me—what is on your mind?”

He motioned to the seat, and this time she took him up on the offer, placing herself in the seat where her downfall had begun. Only this time, as she sat there, curling her hands around the edge of the seat, she knew that this was no downfall.

This was the rise of a whole new era.