Once the most entertaining of the Harrington family had made her grand escape, I was forced to reenter the ballroom alone. Unable to leave due to the fact that this event had been held mainly in my honor, I found myself pouring another glass of brandy and settling in next to Benthem again who said goodbye to the gentleman he'd been speaking with just as I approached.

"Ah, the illustrious Duke of Northumberland! How are you enjoying your party?" Benthem asked, slurring his words only slightly as he took a sip of his own glass.

"Is that what this is?" I mused, raising a brow at the festivities surrounding us. "Someone should have told the Countess I don't like as much pink."

Benthem snorted and I smiled at the reaction.

"Has anyone caught your eye?" Benthem asked then, trying to maintain a cool and indifferent affectation but I saw right through it. I knew Benthem well enough to identify his true motivations from among the disingenuous ones. Benthem never was a good liar and that ability was made even worse when he was drunk. I narrowed my eyes at my friend.

"Please tell me that wasn't your intention in allowing the Countess to throw such a soirée."

"One does not allow the Countess to do anything. She does as she wishes," Benthem joked though it fell rather flat and he cleared his throat rather than chuckle. "I won't lie to you, Victor. I spoke to your mother before we left and she thought-"

"My mother?" I interrupted, my voice rising slightly more than I had intended. Benthem glanced around to see if anyone had overheard. I tried again, this time softer. "You spoke to my mother?"

"I, yes, well I'm always speaking to your mother, you know that. You're the one who introduced us, who invited Madison and I to your home on so many occasions. I hardly think it's out of the ordinary for me to have a conversation with her."

"But you spoke to her about this, about my coming here with you."

"I did. You know I have a tendency to brag about my home. She was impressed by my assertion of how many kind and attractive women there are. She asked me to... push you to- or rather remind you of your, well, your duty."

"My duty?" I practically shouted.

"Your Grace," Benthem warned as a few of the attendees looked our way. "Surely you cannot intend to remain a bachelor forever. Your father is dead and gone. You are the Duke of Northumberland. You're in need of an heir."

"I'm young enough to sire an heir at any time, Benthem, but I thank you for your concern."

"You'll need a wife for that. And for... more. It isn't just about siring an heir, Victor. I want you to have what Madison and I have. Your mother wants you to be happy."

"Do I seem miserable now?"

"Your Grace-"

"Why are they staring at me?" I snapped, my patience thinning. Benthem blinked at me in astonishment.

"What do you-"

"These people. Ever since I've arrived, they treat me like I'm some sort of display. Always watching me. Why? Is it my title?"

"Partly."

"And otherwise?"

"I, well-" Benthem stumbled but finally sighed. "They're waiting to see what you do."

"Why?"

"They take their cues from you."

"Were they so helpless before I arrived?"

"No, Your Grace. But you are the highest ranked nobleman in the room and an eligible bachelor at that. You're new and intriguing. The women swoon for you and the men envy you."

I turned to him suddenly, an idea dawning upon me.

"You say they take their cues from me?" I repeated in thought.

"I- yes, Your Grace."

"If I tied the curtains about my waist and proclaimed it the latest fashion?"

Benthem smiled but nodded all the same.

"They would probably do it too," he admitted. "Earlier, when you danced with Ella, every man in the room had his eyes on her the moment you stepped apart. Luckily that Abney oaf got to her first or I may have had to assist her brother in fending them off."

"Is that so?" I asked but I'd heard all I needed to hear. "Hold my brandy."

Benthem obliged though with a question on his tongue that I did not take time to answer. Instead, I turned and marched to the opposite corner of the room where a certain Harrington was sulking. Her eyes widened as I approached and I smiled down at her as I extended a hand in a slight bow.

"Lady Harrington," I said for the second time that evening, "may I have this dance?"

The girl blinked at me, momentarily stunned as I stood foolishly with my hand out waiting for her to accept my offer. The group of women to my right were beginning to whisper to one another and I felt other eyes upon us as well from all around the room. If I stood here any longer, I would undoubtedly begin to lose all credibility with these imbecilic sheep. I needed to act fast, much faster than this. I raised a brow and gave my hand a little shake of impatience. That seemed to awaken her from her stupor.

"M-me?" She queried lamely.

"I see no other Lady Harrington in this room, do you?"

No, I thought, she's already left.

Emily seemed to realize it at the same moment for she leapt to her feet and eagerly took my hand. I led her onto the dance floor as the music began. She wasn't as clumsy as her sister but her missteps were not as adorable either. At one point, she practically stomped on my foot but I merely maintained a smile and pretended to be having an excellent time for the benefit of the men watching from around us.

She did not speak a word throughout the duration of the song and I could not help but draft comparisons between she and her sister. They were polar opposites, in truth. Where Ella was talkative and intuitive, Emily was silent and socially inept. But their personalities were not where the differences ended. Their appearances could not be further apart either. Still, as the song ended and they separated to applaud the musicians, I bowed a goodbye and walked away hearing the clatter of several men's shoes as they surrounded the eldest Harrington girl to request her next dance.