"Your grace! Your mother was asking for you," Winterbottom stopped Nate when he was going to his room.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes."

Nate nodded at his butler and headed to his mother's chambers.

"Good evening, mother. You asked for me?" he knocked and entered.

"Yes," she replied and patted the bed, signalling him to come sit. "You left in a hurry this morning."

"About that...mother I have broken off my betrothal with Sophia," he said on a sigh.

"That is wonderful, son!" she surprised him by saying.

"You're not upset? It will cause some talk, after all even though she'll be the one to publicly call it off..."

"Upset? I'm ecstatic, Nathaniel. I knew from day one that she was entirely wrong for you. As for the 'talk', I don't give a squat," she chortled.

Nate was amazed. He'd certainly not expected this reaction.

"This might be the smartest thing you've done in years," she was saying.

Nate was silent.

"I take it you've spoken to Fiona," she prompted.

"I apologised," he said with a nod.

"And?"

"She forgave me."

"Oh." She actually sounded surprised.

"I proposed to her...told her I loved her."

"You're marrying her?" she grinned.

"No, she said she doesn't love me," he replied, dazed. Was his mother actually happy that he wanted to marry her companion?

"Of course she loves you. She's lying," she said confidently.

Nate shook his head a little.

"You're not angry?"

"Angry that you've finally decided to listen to your heart? That you're finally reaching for the happiness that I've always wanted for you?" she admonished.

"I love you, mother," he said.

"I love you too, son," she kissed his cheek. "Now about that rubbish Fiona said...she does love you. Nathaniel."

"If she does, then why would she reject my proposal?"

"Because she still hasn't forgiven you," she smiled slightly. "And rightly so. You behaved like an utter dolt."

When Nate didn't look like he believed her, she sighed.

"I don't want to annoy her. If she'd loved me, I wouldn't have thought twice before grovelling before her until she agreed to be mine. But she doesn't, mother."

Linda wanted to tell her son that he couldn't have been more wrong. She knew Nathaniel and she knew Fiona. One week after her arrival, she'd noticed that something was going on between her son and her companion. She hadn't done anything and had let fate lead the way.

But something told her that it was time she interfered.

"You go on and rest, Nathaniel. I'm sure you've had a long day."

"I have some estate business to take care of," he shook his head. "I can't wait for this house party to get over," he sighed.

"It will be tomorrow night," his mother replied.

Nate smiled and left.

He'd lied about the estate business. He merely intended to get drunk.

He felt like his heart had been ripped open from his chest and he needed some respite. Desperately.

*******************

The next evening, Bedford manor.

Fiona took a steadying breath and took a step forward.

"Miss Butterworth," Winterbottom announced and several heads turned to look in her direction.

She felt alone, the way she had when she'd first entered this house a few months back.

But she was doing this for the duchess, she reminded herself and pasted a wide smile on her face. And honestly, it was better than she'd anticipated. Of course a majority of people were whispering behind their fans while some were staring quite blatantly. But there were some familiar smiles as well—even Lord Winston offered her a genuine smile. Fiona smiled back.

For what it was worth, she'd at least earned one friend.

He quickly waded through the throng of guests to reach her.

"You look dazzling, Miss Butterworth," he bowed before her and kissed her hand. Well she better did. She was sure this dress cost a fortune—the duchess's fortune. At first she'd felt uncomfortable taking it...it was Nate's money after all but then her grace had practically browbeaten her. And although she'd thought of wearing her own clothes just to defy the duchess, in the end she'd given it. Besides, the dress was too beautiful to set aside.

"So do you, my lord," Fiona chuckled.

"I'm very sorry about what happened the other day—I learned that I was somehow responsible for it," he grumbled.

The reminder of that night immediately sobered her. "Think nothing of it. I'm not."

He didn't look like he believed her but he let it be.

A few more guests talked to her and even asked her if she was still Lady Linda's companion. She didn't know either. Nate had apologised and it didn't seem like the Duchess was done with her either because she'd spent at least two hours in her home trying to convince Fiona to come.

So she'd given them all diplomatic answers.

She didn't want to think about her future anymore. She just wanted to enjoy this one night without any burdens...she wanted to feel the way any normal Lady would at a ball.

Fiona was trying to find the duchess when someone suddenly pulled her to the side. It was dark and she struggled a bit.

She was about to scream but a hand closed over her mouth.

And then she knew who it was. She knew that smell. And she recognised the feel of his body against her back.

Her shoulders immediately sagged in relief and she turned around slowly to face him.

"Good evening, your grace. How can I help you?" she tipped up her head. Just the familiar angles of his face made her chest ache with longing.

"What are you doing here?" Nate asked harshly.

"You can't kick me out this time. I'm her grace's guest," Fiona shot out defensively.

"You misunderstand. Are you here because you've forgiven me? Because you love me?" He asked and the hope in his voice stung.

"No," she whispered. As much as she wanted to tell him that she loved him too, she knew that she didn't belong in his world. She'd always be that impoverished vicar's daughter and he, a grand duke. She was doing him a favour, really. Her and his duchess? It was laughable.

"Then? Are you here to torture me?"

"No. I'm not here for you. I came because your mother asked me to."

"She knows. I think she's known all along."

"Known what?"

"That I love you. She says you love me too but I guess she's wrong about that," he murmured.

"Stop it," she gasped.

"I can't," he said hoarsely as his hand came up to cup her cheek. Fiona resisted the urge to rest her face on that palm, the urge to hold onto him and never let go.

"I can't stop loving you, Fiona."

Then don't, she wanted to say.

"I should go. This is highly improper," she said in a rush.

"You've always been an improper companion," he said and she supposed that amused him for she detected a smile in his voice.

"But I'm not your companion anymore, you made sure of that," she said and pushed him away from her. And then she fled from that darkened hallway.