Antoinette suppressed her anger as she spoke to Lucy. After all, it was not Lucy's fault. Or Mr. Perry's fault. It wasn't even her fault. It was just the way their luck had fallen. She may love Mr. Perry, but the two of them could never realistically be together, no matter what they did. Their marriage would be a nightmare for everyone involved. Meanwhile, even though Lucy did not know Mr. Perry well enough to love him yet, Antoinette would have to trust her friend to grow to love him as he deserved to be loved.

So she smiled and nodded her head as Lucy gushed about Mr. Perry's many fine qualities. Some of them she knew to be true. Others were all Lucy's impression. Yet others even she was not sure of. But they were not hers to discover. And it was ripping her heart in two.

Now she knew that the joy she had experienced had not been at helping her friends. It had been at seeing Mr. Perry happy. At that moment she had not even been thinking about Lucy's wellbeing She had seen Mr. Perry unhappy and done her very best to make him smile. She had not been able to consider him for marriage, and he had been mourning his lack of marriage prospects. Recommending him to Baron and Baroness Fitzroy had been akin to recommending him a good tailor in her mind. Only... on some level she had expected them to reject him. On some secret level, she had been hoping they would consider Mr. Perry to be beneath their daughter, so Antoinette could keep him, her private friend and confidant, forever.

As she found herself tuning out Lucy's ravings and getting lost in her own thoughts and daydreams, a hand on her shoulder jolted her back into reality. A heavy hand which patted her lightly, with familiarity.

She spun around on the spot, unsure whether this was someone who needed to be embraced or slapped. But it was neither.

It was Duke Godwin. He was smiling broadly and held out his hand for her. “Please, let us dance,” he invited, nodding towards the centre of the room where other guests were already beginning a steady waltz.

Antoinette did not feel prepared to face him yet. But, from talking to Lucy, she had a sneaking suspicion she would never be ready. She just had to dive in and hope that it would all work out. “Of course,” she replied. Turning to Lucy she smiled softly. “Sorry, I have been invited to dance.”

But Lucy, who as a girl had been jealous of anyone who took Antoinette's attention away from their friendship, simply smiled back. “Have fun,” she said, turning around to talk to Mary as Duke Godwin guided Antoinette through to join in the dancing.

Duke Godwin held her hand firmly but surely, like someone would hold a puppy that was trying to escape. She squeezed his hand back to reassure him she was not going anywhere, but he did not relax his grip when she did. He just smiled.

“I am so grateful for everything you did for me when I was ill,” he said with a slight sigh. “That is how a woman truly ought to be, do you not agree?”

Antoinette shrugged and averted her gaze as she concentrated on keeping pace. “I suppose it is what everyone ought to do for the person they truly love.”

“But it does not come naturally to men,” Duke Godwin replied. “Good men, at least. We show our love by being brave, by offering gifts... not by fussing over someone and sitting by their side.”

“But it does come naturally to some men, some very good men,” Antoinette replied, a little indignant that gentle men such as Mr. Perry or her own brother were being dismissed so readily. “And it does not come naturally to all women.”

“That is the problem, though,” Duke Godwin insisted. “It ought to come naturally to women. You are born mothers. And yet so many fail to develop that nurturing which ought to happen on its own.”

Antoinette was tempted to reply that even if all women were born to be mothers, which she incidentally did not believe on account of God making barren women, that he was not a child and that if an adult man wanted a mother he should go to the woman who birthed him. But she bit her tongue. She could not afford to alienate this man. This was what he believed. This was what he wanted from a woman. And if she opposed it she would not be able to marry him.

“Many other women have approached me, but they have all fallen short of my ideals,” he explained, looking a little sorry for himself. “I do not expect the world of a woman. I know we are all fallen creatures. But so many of these women, or better said 'girls', are just too self-absorbed for my liking.”

Antoinette half smiled. “Surely, they cannot be so bad, though?”

“They are only interested in my money, or in the fantasy they have of becoming a Duchess,” Duke Godwin shrugged a little. “They do not think of me, or of what I want. Or of how they shall be a mother to my children, and a good wife to me. A good woman... she ought to be able to handle all that life gives her. She ought to be able to show me love and compassion and support, to look after our children, to do tasks about the house if needs be...”

“But not to speak another language, or travel?” Antoinette suggested. “What if she needed those skills?”

Duke Godwin laughed a little. “If she needs those skills then she did not marry a good man. It is the husband's job to take on tasks which occur beyond the home, the wife's job to remain at home and handle the tasks which take place within.”

Antoinette did not feel comfortable. She was nothing like what Duke Godwin truly wanted in a woman. He wanted someone quiet and domestic and obedient. And it was not up to her whether he deserved that, but she knew full well that by marrying him she would either deny him such a wife, or deny herself a life of freedom. It was not right. She was not different to the other women he had seen. She too wanted him only for the money and safety he could offer. She too was acting selfishly.

But she needed to. He was her best option.

“Oh, hello there Antoinette,” a voice said shakily from her side. Antoinette stopped dancing, forcing Duke Godwin to stop also.

They both looked over at where the voice had come from. Sir Dodge was stood, quite red in the face, smiling a little. He nodded to Antoinette. She nodded back as sternly and politely as she could. He was not her first choice, and she did not wish to give Duke Godwin any cause for concern. But she also did not want Sir Dodge to believe he stood no chance at all. After all, what if Duke Godwin did not marry her? But... something was up with Sir Dodge. Something more than usual.

Sir Dodge locked eyes with her, then glared at Duke Godwin. “Why him?” Sir Dodge asked, pointing at Duke Godwin. “He would never let you live the life you deserve.” A slight drawl at the end of Sir Dodge's sentences confirmed Antoinette's suspicions: he was intoxicated. She was not sure how much, but he had drunk more than he could handle whilst remaining civil. So he would not remain civil. “I may not be as important or as wealthy yet, but I will be someone someday. And by my side you would be free to do whatever you wished.”

Around them the other dancers had stopped, everyone was focusing on the drama unfolding before them. And, at the centre of it, Antoinette felt somewhat sickened and scared, not just for her reputation, but for her wellbeing, and that of her two suitors. They were not supposed to run into each other. Not with the tensions between them.

She had managed to keep them apart, even as the gifts had become more extravagant and their unannounced visits more frequent. She had managed to persuade one to leave before the other arrived, and to avoid discussing them in front of one another. And yet perhaps a confrontation like that would have been better. One in private, sober, yet with servants around to evict either should they have acted improperly. This was just... concerning.

Sir Dodge stepped forward amidst the now still dancers. Although he had been drinking, it was clear to Antoinette that he had had enough to upset his mind, not his body. His steps were confident and firm. He stopped mere inches away from Duke Godwin and glared up at him.

“Let's go outside. I wish to duel with you,” Sir Dodge said, seizing Duke Godwin's wrist.

In some ways, the scene was comical. Sir Dodge, although by no means a short man, stood a good few inches shorter than Duke Godwin. Due to his youth, he was also of a smaller build, and had significantly thinner facial hair. Next to a woman he would be obviously a man, but next to someone as tall, broad, and strong as Duke Godwin he looked like a teenage boy.

In other ways it was horrifying. Antoinette knew full well that the difference in size meant nothing to a man's pride. Duke Godwin could easily break Sir Dodge, but Sir Dodge would give it his best effort. Whether they chose pistols or the blade, Sir Dodge would probably die, and Duke Godwin would be injured at least.

Thankfully, Duke Godwin pulled his arm away from Sir Dodge. “Stop acting like a mindless brute,” he said. “We live in a good and civilized society, not one where the rules of feudal England persist.” He cast the younger man a look of disgust.

Had he not done so it was possible that Sir Dodge would have backed away. But as their eyes locked again, Duke Godwin's obvious disdain for Sir Dodge made the younger man's face flush even redder with pure anger. He raised his hand and swung a punch at Duke Godwin so fast that the taller man barely dodged, the fist grazing his jaw as he leaned back.

Antoinette let out an audible gasp and stepped back as the men squared up against each other.

“You little lout,” Duke Godwin remarked, grabbing Sir Dodge's fist as he swung for a second time.

Sir Dodge let out an almost animal growl and swung with the other hand, provoking Duke Godwin to yank his hand and squeeze his fist. A crunch was heard. Sir Dodge whimpered, but nevertheless swung again, his free hand landing on Duke Godwin's throat, causing the latter to cough as his windpipe was briefly squashed.

Antoinette felt her stomach turn. “Stop!” she shouted. “Cease this ridiculous behaviour immediately! You are acting like schoolboys!”

Sir Dodge paused and locked eyes with her. “But I am doing it for you. To prove my love and devotion for you.”

“Antoinette, step back and leave this to me,” Duke Godwin said. “This man is clearly intoxicated and probably deranged. Did you know he has been caught lying to young women about his wealth and power? Stealing too. I am shocked he is at the ball at all.” As he spoke he released Sir Dodge's hand.

Sir Dodge shook his head. “I swear to you they are all lies,” he insisted. “I have given you enough presents to prove my wealth, have I not?”

Sir Dodge attempted to step forward, but Duke Godwin put his arm out to prevent the younger man from getting any closer to Antoinette. “Stolen items do not prove your wealth,” he remarked.

Duke Godwin's arm in Sir Dodge's way provoked yet another angry and impotent swing of the fist. The crowd was beginning to look wary, and starting to give the men enough space that, were a fight to break out, none of the onlookers would be affected.

Antoinette felt insulted and humiliated. She wanted to shout at them that she did not love, nor wish to marry, either of them, and that they ought to stop fighting over her like two dogs scrapping for a bone. But she did not. She simply looked on in horror as Sir Dodge lunged at Duke Godwin again and Duke Godwin, pulling hard on Sir Dodge's arm, sent him toppling to the floor. As Sir Dodge pushed himself up. There was blood running down from his nose and lip.

The crowd suddenly parted and Lady Byrd, proud and confident as a queen, strode towards the two men. Behind her followed two of the strongest foot servants, and a gardener, their strongest member of staff.

Lady Byrd had an expression of such rage, confusion, and disgust on her face, Antoinette was worried she would faint before she could do anything. But she did not. “Please escort Sir Dodge outside,” she said to the two-foot servants.

Sir Dodge was about to protest, but saw the two strong men walking up to him and suddenly seemed much more sober. He stood up on his own, scoffing indignantly and pulling his arm away when the servants began to guide him out of the room. He muttered under his breath as he left, but the crowd was so silent that Antoinette could make out “she will just be miserable anyway” as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone a murmur of gossip began in the room, and a few people approached Antoinette and Duke Godwin, asking questions with a look of raw excitement on their faces. Antoinette was disgusted, but smiled politely and shrugged.

She was grateful when her mother seized her arm and, apologizing to the guests, guided her out the room.