The trip home from Princess Elisaveta's summer home was pretty straightforward for Lucy. Everyone was tired from an evening of eating and socializing, and her mother was too busy raving about the luxury of the Princess's house to cause Lucy much trouble.

“It was beautiful, like something out of a painting,” Lady Fitzgerald said with a soft sigh. “I would love to live somewhere like that.”

“Our house isn't much different,” Lord Fitzgerald replied, sounding a little indignant.

“But the details are what truly make it,” Lady Fitzgerald insisted. “I am sure our Lucy would be glad to live in a house so wonderfully kept.”

But by the time she said this, they were home. Lucy yawned loudly. “I suppose I ought to get to bed. I need my rest,” she said with a smile as she dismounted from the coach and quickly began to make her way upstairs before her mother could continue talking about this Prince she ought to marry.

She was in bed and asleep within minutes of getting home.

* * *

It was the next morning that presented a challenge. She could not avoid her mother forever, especially not at breakfast. She had been hoping that Lady Fitzgerald would have forgotten the matter, or at least set it aside until they knew more about the situation. No such luck.

“I see you and the Princess got along very well,” said Lady Fitzgerald with a twinkle in her eye.

Lucy nodded and smiled. “Yes, it turns out we have much in common. We're a similar age, and we both have been to boarding schools.”

“That is nice, it is wonderful to see that the class barrier is not quite so great as you seemed to think it was,” her mother continued.

“But it is nevertheless present,” Lucy replied, “and I do not mean to say that it was not difficult to talk to her. Merely that she was not as hard to relate to as I had originally assumed.”

“But do you not think that perhaps it would not be so difficult to get truly close to her if you needed to?” Lady Fitzgerald insisted.

“It is not about needing to, it is about wanting to. And I do want to get to know her, but not for the reasons you intend to.” She knew exactly what her mother wanted, and she would not play along with it.

Lady Fitzgerald shook her head. “But it is important to consider your future. Your prospects. I will not be here forever to guide you. And marrying a prince would be—”

“I do not intend to marry a prince,” Lucy interrupted. “Any prince who would take a lowly lady such as myself is not a prince one ought to be marrying. And besides, I do not intend on using Her Highness Elisaveta. She is my friend, not a step on a ladder.”

“Lucy, you must use these connections to their full potential,” her mother said, her voice heavy with frustration. “As I have said, you have as good a chance as any other. And as I have also said, I will not be here forever, so you must make the most of my help whilst you can.”

“But I do not even know this prince, mother,” Lucy protested.

“And yet you judge him so harshly. Just as you judged Her Highness Elisaveta. And you turned out to like her, did you not?”

Lucy nodded. “I suppose I did judge her quickly. But is it not also fast judgement to decide one ought to marry a man based on his title alone?”

“I believe that optimistic judgement opens up opportunities, whereas pessimistic judgement closes doors,” her mother replied.

Lucy tried to think of an appropriate reply, but nothing came to mind. Her only true reason was that she didn't want to do it. But what choice did she have? This was just the game people played. “I just... I would not want to use Her Highness Elisaveta. This is the first time in a long time that I have had a lady friend who I held so much in common with. I would hate to abuse her trust.”

“And you will not!” Lady Fitzgerald replied. “You will simply make use of your friendship to get closer to her brother. You need not lie to her or control her. Simply see the Prince and befriend him. You can continue to be a good and honest friend to Her Highness at the same time.”

Lucy looked at her almost cold cup of tea. “I suppose I could see if we are invited to their holiday home again any time soon,” she reluctantly conceded.

“That is the spirit,” Lady Fitzgerald replied. “How would we go about seeing Her Highness again, then?”

Lucy paused. “I am not sure. I am not sure what the correct protocol is when one is not too close to a princess.”

Lady Fitzgerald rubbed her temples. “Do you know anyone who may be aware of the correct way of attempting to meet with a princess?”

“I suppose... Antoinette may know. After all, she says a European princess is very similar to a Duchess, so I suppose she ought to have some idea. Or perhaps she will even be close enough to invite us herself,” Lucy mused.

“That sounds most wonderful. We shall see Duchess Antoinette immediately after breakfast,” Lady Fitzgerald insisted.

Lucy felt a little more relaxed. Antoinette would be able to help her. Antoinette often had answers. And not just for matters such as “how to meet a princess,” but also for matters such as “how to prevent my mother from getting me to marry a prince.” Not that she felt too concerned that this would actually happen. She was confident that a prince would never take her. But she needed to stop her mother before their name was any further humiliated.

Antoinette was staying with her parents for a couple of days, along with little Alexander. Duke Perry was fortunately still absent. Antoinette's parents were busy spending a day fawning over their granddaughter. Lady Fitzgerald, herself a little broody, joined them, giving Lucy and Antoinette plenty of time to talk in private.

Lucy was not sure what to do in her circumstances. But Antoinette would be able to help.

“Your mother wants you to see Her Highness Elisaveta again, apparently,” Antoinette said.

Lucy nodded, then shook her head. “Well... yes, she does, and...”

“Do you not wish to see her?” Antoinette asked.

“It is not that at all!” Lucy insisted. “It is only... my mother wants me to get close to the princess so I can meet the prince.”

“For marriage purposes?” Antoinette asked.

Lucy nodded. “It seems as though every time I make a new friend, my mother has to try and make it into a courtship opportunity. All I wanted was to befriend Lord Jones and Her Highness, and now they are considered some sort of a path into marriage.”

“It is natural,” Antoinette said. “She just wants to protect you.”

“From what?” Lucy said, exasperated. “Currently she is making me a social disaster, a laughing stock. I am going to need protecting from her if she gets any worse.” She sank back into her chair and stared at the ceiling.

“I did not mean it in that sense. A lot of parents see their daughters as precious, as needing someone to watch over them. She wants you to marry a good man, so she can know that you will always have someone to watch over you, even after she is gone,” Antoinette explained.

“Antoinette... what if I did not wish to get married?” Lucy asked quietly. “At all. Ever.”

“You have said as much to me before,” Antoinette replied.

“But in earnest. Even if I were to meet the most perfect man, I would be afraid of marrying him.” Lucy stood up and walked to the window.

“I suppose I would be confused. After all, the most perfect man ought to be one worth marrying,” Antoinette said.

“But that is just it. Nobody is perfect. So even if I met someone who appeared perfect, I could not marry him. Especially if I met someone so perfect, actually, for it would be sure to be a lie.”

“Are you serious, then?” Antoinette asked. “You intend to miss out on all that marriage has to offer? On the safety, the love, the children?”

“If I must,” Lucy replied. “No deal is better than a bad deal, after all.”

Antoinette shook her head. “I simply find it hard to believe anyone would choose such a path. Especially someone who used to believe so wholeheartedly in marriage as you did.”

Lucy pursed her lips a little. “I was young then. And naïve. I am older now and I understand that the things I wanted are not real.”

“But some of them are, just not in the way you want them to be. Give it time,” Antoinette said.

“Everyone seems to assume I shall change my mind, but I personally doubt that I will,” Lucy explained. “I have given this some thought, and I need to stay away from men.”

“Even men like Lord Andrew Jones? You seemed quite partial to him. Perhaps a man like him would suit you well,” Antoinette replied.

Lucy thought this over. “No, because there is no way of being truly certain who you are marrying.”

“Then you ought to marry another cynic. Someone else who thinks like you do. Then you can both be straightforward and honest and have low expectations together,” Antoinette giggled a little.

“I had considered that,” Lucy replied, “but then I realised that if a man were to discover I intend to marry only another cynic, then he could pretend to be a cynic so as to marry me.”

“So you are not willing to consider a man like Lord Andrew Jones, because if you did he might start pretending to be a cynic, which you know he already is, to trick you into marrying, which neither of you want? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” Antoinette insisted.

Lucy scowled. “It is not ridiculous to be careful. What if Lord Jones will not marry me, but tells others that I would marry a cynic? And then someone comes to me pretending to be a cynic, marries me, and I live the rest of my life in misery?”

“You are overthinking,” Antoinette said with a slight chuckle.

Lucy sighed. “Perhaps so, but what else can I do? I do not want a life full of misfortune if I can avoid it. I want to marry for love, not be deceived.”

“You cannot truly plan for love, it just happens. And you cannot plan to avoid misfortune. Misfortune of all kinds of people, for all kinds of reasons. There are many misfortunes worse than an unhappy marriage,” Antoinette said.

“So are you saying I ought to marry this prince?” Lucy replied, walking back over to her seat.

Antoinette shook her head. “No. I am saying you ought to give him a chance.”

Lucy was about to sit down and reply when she heard a slight knock at the door. “I hope you are both well.” Like startled deer, the two women turned their heads suddenly upon the intruder.

It was Duke Perry. Lucy could feel her blood boiling just by laying eyes on him. It was some cruel twist of fate that her betrayer was married to her best friend. It was his fault she felt like this in the first place. It was his fault she could not believe in marriage. It was his fault she was suspicious of men.

“I hope you do not mind my presence,” Duke Perry said meekly.

Lucy stepped away from the chair, showing she was not going to sit back down. “I do,” she said bluntly.

“Come now, Lucy, don't be that way. We can have tea,” Antoinette replied.

“No, never mind,” Lucy said, “I shall be leaving shortly.” She glared at Duke Perry, who still seemed oddly sheepish.

“That's a shame,” Duke Perry replied. “I was coming in because you seemed friends with Lord Jones, who shall be visiting us soon for mid-morning tea and sandwiches.”

“Lord Andrew Jones?” Lucy asked, trying not to sound overly interested.

“You do not have to stay,” Duke Perry insisted. If any other man said that, Lucy would have assumed it was some crude manipulative tactic, a hint of sarcasm. But Duke Perry said it in all earnestness, as though she actually did wish to leave despite Andrew's impending arrival.

Lucy was torn. On the one hand it would be nice to wait and see Andrew, especially on her own terms again. Her mother would no doubt turn down mid-morning tea, as she was keeping her figure and playing with the baby. This would give Lucy plenty of time to talk with her friends.

But on the other hand, that would mean enduring Duke Perry's presence. And this was something she had experienced great difficulty with for the past two years. Ever since finding out about his deceit, she had done her best to avoid him. Had it been an option, she would never have seen him ever again. But she could not stay away from her friend. At first, she had only entertained Antoinette at her own home. Then she had stopped by for brief visits and left long before Duke Perry could even lay eyes on her. Then she had endured his presence at parties and balls. And bit by bit Duke Perry had crept back into the shadows of her life.

She could not understand how come he was so sheepish and shy after all he had done to her. If anything, being bold and brazen about his actions would be more forgivable. She may have been able to tolerate his presence if he bragged about how he nearly deceived her, how he could have wholly deceived her if he had not become a Duke. She could tolerate him if he were a dislikeable, obnoxious man.

As it stood he was just a wolf in sheep's clothing. He seemed so pleasant on the outside, so nice and tender. And yet he had completely and utterly betrayed her. She knew what he was capable of, what he was willing to do, and the face he wore in public in no way reflected the person she knew he was.

She knew he was cruel, that he had deceived her to get her wealth and cast her aside when she was no longer useful. And yet as he stood there in the doorway he was... strangely... likeable?

The thought struck her that maybe she had avoided him these last two years, not because she hated him, but because she still loved him.