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The duchess rolled her eyes. “There were witnesses,” she said darkly. “All the ladies of the haut ton .”

“I have the answer,” said a small voice.

It was Lady Zoe, who started speaking in a meek voice that grew stronger with every word.

By the end, she spoke as if she were delivering a pronouncement from heaven.

“It will set everything to right. It will be a bigger story and it will restore Kynthea’s reputation, allowing her to stay with me as my companion. It’s perfect.”

Everyone waited for her to explain. They held their breath waiting for this child to give her solution, but for some reason, she hesitated. Indeed, her gaze lay heavy on him, and Ras felt dread creep up his spine.

“Speak up, girl!” his mother snapped. “What is your idea?”

“Propose to me,” she said, looking straight at him. “If we are engaged, then all is forgiven. Kynthea was obviously not throwing herself at you, and it wouldn’t matter anyway because she will still be my companion. The bosom friend of a future duchess. No one would dare say a word against her.”

Ras swallowed. He understood the logic. Indeed, the noose tightening around his neck told him so quite specifically. But he waited for his mother to declare that solution as impossible, ridiculous, and completely preposterous.

Except it wasn’t. Hadn’t his mother specifically introduced the girl to him last night?

She’d considered Lady Zoe an eligible candidate to be the next duchess.

Her young age was completely irrelevant.

The girl had pedigree and dowry. And if he demurred, she would point out that the child was also beautiful and would likely be a good breeder.

The very idea made him nauseous.

Meanwhile, Miss Petrelli whispered a single word. “No.”

“Yes!” Zoe retorted as she rounded on her cousin.

“It’s not how I expected the love potion to work, but there it is.

I’d be an asset to the dukedom. I can fix his stables if nothing else.

You’d be at my side, completely redeemed.

His Grace would get my considerable dowry, and everyone would talk about it with admiration.

Indeed, it would be the engagement of the Season, and all done after one party! ”

It was clear the girl believed her words. Worse, he could see his mother considering it. The financial alliance would do his estates no harm, and indeed, on a practical nature, everything made sense.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I will not marry a child.”

“I’m not a child!” the girl returned hotly.

“You bought a love potion to trap me and had your cousin throw it in my face. That, Lady Zoe, is the act of a child.”

The girl bit her lip, obviously embarrassed. Nate gasped, clearly startled. But the wildest reaction came from his mother. She pursed her lips and nodded.

“Clever girl,” she said.

“What?” Ras gasped.

His mother shrugged. “I’ve heard worse stories. And it worked, didn’t it? You’re considering her hand right now.”

“I am not because it will not happen.” He said the words as loudly and firmly as he could manage.

And when no one appeared moved, he made his decision.

“What will happen is that I shall return Lady Zoe and Miss Petrelli to their home where I shall have a frank discussion with her parents. I will explain that Miss Petrelli is the height of propriety—”

His mother released a snort of derision.

“And I shall consider it a personal insult if they sack her.”

Nate shook his head. “That might work to keep her off the streets, but it won’t help Lady Zoe find a husband. If her family stands behind Miss Petrelli, the hostesses will cut her from the guest lists.”

“Then I’ll throw a ball,” Ras declared. “A big one and make it known that anyone who cuts either of them will not be invited.”

Silence reigned as everyone mulled over the possibility.

“That might work,” said the duchess.

“Mr. Pickleherring could release the news along with his retraction,” Nate offered.

Lady Zoe pursed her lips. “It would make me the most interesting debutante of the Season. Everyone would want to talk to me if only to find out how I’d attracted the attention of a duke.

” She looked up at the duke. “Your ball would have to come after mine.” Her come-out ball was scheduled for the next week.

The only reason she’d been allowed to attend Almack’s was because she’d gotten the vouchers. And because she hadn’t wanted to wait.

Meanwhile, Nate snorted. “Ras, your ball would have to be the last of the Season. Otherwise everyone would attend it, then cut her afterward.”

Ras shrugged. He didn’t really want to throw one anyway. “Last is fine with me.” He looked around the room. Everyone had agreed except the one person he was most concerned about. “Miss Petrelli?” he asked. “What say you? Are you prepared to become the most celebrated lady this Season?”

She looked up, her brown eyes wide and beautiful for all that they held the hint of tears. “Celebrated? Or notorious?”

His mother sniffed. “As if that matters!”

“Of course, it matters,” the lady shot back as she gained her feet. Good. She was showing some spirit. “No companion or governess can be notorious! Assuming this works, how will I survive after the Season?”

“Well as to that, my dear, you have the same difficulty as every other debutante. Catch your husband now while you’re still interesting to the beau monde. Afterwards, you’ll be no more relevant than yesterday’s fish.”

And so it was that Miss Petrelli became the focus of all his matrimonial designs.

Not his own, of course. His intent was to find her a suitable husband this Season so that he wouldn’t be forced to offer for Lady Zoe.

If keeping himself out of the parson’s mousetrap was his goal, then he would have to see that Miss Petrelli found her one true love.

Or at least a gentleman who would honor her as she deserved.

“Goodness,” Nate quipped as they headed out to speak with Lady Zoe’s parents. “Who knew this Season would be so dashed intriguing? And it has only just begun!”