That evening at dinner, as everyone paid compliments concerning the quality of the meal to the Countess who had taken no part in it's preparation, I experienced the same sensation of feeling watched. It was, of course, entirely due to the fact that the Duke had hardly removed his eyes from me since we had all sat down to table. Try as I might to ignore the penetrating gaze, I found myself watching him back as I chewed.

"Are you here to find a wife, Your Grace?" the Countess spoke suddenly and my hand went to my throat as I nearly choked upon my cod. Better yet than my brother who truly did choke on his wine. The Duke, to his credit, recovered the quickest.

"Pardon me, Countess Helena?" he sought clarification. Who could blame him? It wasn't a question which women with any manners in polite society would blurt out at dinner regardless of how badly she wanted to know the answer. True to form, the Countess only smiled sweetly back at him.

"Forgive me," she began again with a half-hearted apology. "I did not mean to be so bold. I only meant, well you are my guest. And it is my responsibility to ensure that your needs are being met while you remain within my household. So if you intend to find a wife among the gentry here in town, I shall be required to throw a few more balls and to ensure your invitation to the others occurring around us. I only ask for planning purposes, you see."

The Duke opened his mouth to respond and then thought better of it and closed it back again. As he glanced to Benthem, I turned to my father who seemed so enthralled with his fish that he hardly seemed aware of the conversation unfolding before him. After a moment of tense silence, I sought to remedy it the only way I knew how and gave a tense whisper to the man just down the table from me, "Papa."

"Yes," the Duke spoke suddenly and all eyes went to him again. He gave a pleasant smile but his eyes found mine when he answered. "I suppose that is to be my intention."

"Wonderful!" The Countess clapped her hands together and the Earl jumped, the only indication that he had heard a thing which had happened around him. "If you would like to let me know which women might have made an impression upon you so that I can ensure they are invited to the next-"

"Mother," Elijah finally warned once I had turned my withering gaze from our father to him. Emily merely sat, shocked and wide eyed, staring between our mother and the Duke.

"I'm afraid I'm quite terrible with names," the Duke answered jovially, far more understanding than he had any right to be. "I suppose you will just have to invite them all again."

The Countess smiled.

"Of course," she answered happily. "It will take a few days to plan, to be sure, but the Redmond's are hosting a ball tomorrow evening..."

For the rest of the dinner, the Countess listed every event scheduled for practically the next month, detailing the families which were hosting them and mentioning the names of a few more prominent people here and there. I tuned her out almost entirely and thought, for the first time, that my father might have the way of it.

When we had finished and been excused, I was the first out of my seat, heading for the door and for the safety of my bedroom where I could at least find some solace from the mortification my mother had brought upon us this evening. But, as I made my way toward the stairs, I heard footsteps following after me and stopped. I turned to see the Duke waiting only a few feet behind me. Our eyes met and a moment passed between us. But it was only a moment before he spoke.

"I didn't mean that I was interested in every woman in town," he said suddenly and I blinked back at him. Of all the things I had expected he may have followed after me to say, this was not one of them.

"I'm sorry?" I queried back, genuinely lost.

"When your mother asked if there were any women in particular I wanted to invite and I said all of them. I didn't mean that I was interested in all of them. Quite the opposite, actually. I meant-"

"You do not owe me an explanation, Your Grace," I interrupted, my brow crinkling in confusion at why he may have ever presumed he did.

"Right," he answered after a moment's hesitation, bobbing his head in agreement. "Of course. I just- I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

I just stared at him, wondering why it mattered so much what I did or did not think of him.

"You were right, by the way," he said then, more flustered than I had ever seen him before. I might have smiled but something about it was unsettling. "About Emily. I should have considered how she may have interpreted my offer to dance with her."

My gaze softened at the admission. It only encouraged him to continue.

"I'm sorry."

"Tell her," I answered then with a smile so warm, it seemed to melt him to the spot. "Not me."

Then I turned and made my way up the stairs toward my room.