The next morning, Antoinette felt nervous but excited. Mary was right, after all. Antoinette spent so much time advising others to take action, she would be an absolute hypocrite if she did not take her own advice. And although up until this point none of her suitors had mainly caught her eye, Duke Godwin had definitely been an exception the night before.

Sure, he had been a little condescending at times, but she understood it. She was a younger woman a whole class beneath him. It was natural he may know more than her, or have stronger opinions than her. For a man in his position, he was actually rather forgiving.

And in every other aspect, he seemed desirable. He was a Duke, with great wealth behind him. He was educated and well-spoken. Her parents seemed impressed by him and eager to talk with him. Not to mention, he was handsome. She could easily envisage herself spending a lifetime with this man. And, what is more, she felt her parents would be pleased with this decision.

Heading downstairs for breakfast, she felt a little giddy. This was just like in her romance novels, where the heroine meets her one true love, and then their courtship begins. Of course in Antoinette's case, she expected they not need overcome the sheer number of trials the heroines in her books face. After all, adventurous though she may be, she felt that continually facing social and moral dilemmas would be less of an adventure and a more of constant stress. But nevertheless, she knew that this would be the start of her romance.

“You look most jovial this morning,” Lady Byrd said, seeing her daughter stride into the room with a bounce in her step. “Good news?”

“In a way,” Antoinette said. “I have an announcement.”

“Well, so do we,” replied her father. “Age comes before beauty after all.”

Antoinette felt her excitement double at the prospect of both delivering and receiving an announcement. She sat down at the table, feeling her foot tap lightly against the carpet as she waited for her father to speak.

“Having seen how you conducted yourself last night, your mother and I have reached a conclusion about your marriage prospects,” her father began, glancing at her mother.

“You were polite, graceful, demure, and yet not too silent, nor too passive,” her mother said, nodding. “You were in every way a lady.”

“We had originally had our reservations about allowing you to see your suitors seriously. You have always been a bit too bold, a bit too... unladylike. We were concerned that you would not attract the right sort of a man. But last night you showed us that you are determined to be wed and willing to behave yourself like the young lady you are. You have inspired great confidence in us,” Lord Byrd said. “Would you like to begin vetting your prospects in earnest?”

“Oh yes!” Antoinette said, suddenly checking herself and taking a deep breath. “That would be most wonderful.”

Her mother laughed a little. “Very well, what was your announcement?”

“It was of a similar nature,” Antoinette replied. “I had not been too eager regarding any of my suitors until now, but... last night I met a man who I believe may make a most excellent suitor. Duke Alexander Godwin.”

Her mother smiled. “That is fantastic news,” she said. “Duke Godwin would make a fine suitor indeed, and he seemed to be interested in you.”

Her father nodded his head with the faintest trace of a smile emerging on his lips also. “Yes, Duke Godwin is an excellent option. I shall write to him immediately to ensure that he is aware of our interest.”

“Who else would you like to consider?” Lady Byrd asked.

Antoinette felt slightly disappointed. Not this again. She knew of countless eligible young men, and other than Duke Godwin, none stood out from the rest whatsoever. How could she select a few from that vast group? She shook her head. “Whoever you believe is a good prospect,” she replied. “I trust you, as my parents, to know what is best for me.”

Lady Byrd nodded. “We shall make a selection, to ensure that you are not too restricted in your choices. But if you wish, we can focus our attention largely on Duke Godwin.”

Antoinette nodded back eagerly. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Then it is decided,” Lord Byrd said, “I shall write to Duke Godwin immediately to inform him of our interest.”

Antoinette felt her heart soar. This was precisely what she had wanted for the past couple of years. For her parents to take her interest in marriage more seriously, for them to provide the support and assistance she so desperately needed to make the right decision when it came to finding a husband.

After breakfast, Lord Byrd retired to his study to compose the letter, and Antoinette requested leave from Lady Byrd to go and tell her cousin, Mary, the good news.

“Antoinette, I believe you are forgetting something,” Lady Byrd replied as she sorted some cut flowers, ready to spend the afternoon building an artistic arrangement.

“Ah, yes...” Antoinette suddenly realized. Mary had only married the day before. Not only would she not be home with her parents, but she would probably not be at Duke Haskett's local manor either. She sat down heavily in a chair and sighed dejectedly. “But I wish to speak with someone of the good news.”

“Father Howe, perhaps?” Lady Byrd suggested, raising an eyebrow at her daughter's dramatics.

“The vicar?” Antoinette cringed slightly.

“Do not speak of him in that tone. He is a good man and a vital part of our community,” Lady Byrd replied sternly.

Antoinette shook her head. “It is not that... I simply do not believe it is a conversation men could understand.”

Lady Byrd hesitated. “Perhaps not. You could go to see Eleanor.”

Antoinette shook her head again. “Eleanor and all her sisters are away with their parents, attending some charity events to raise money for London hospitals and poorhouses this Christmas. I would not even know where to write them right now.”

“Perhaps you should write a letter to Lucy, then, it has been some time since you had correspondence with her,” Lady Byrd replied. “She is still at boarding school?”

Antoinette stared at her feet. “You are right, I have not spoken to her for a month or more. I hope that she is doing well. Last I heard, she said her stay in boarding school would be coming to a close next year, and she was coming home. Yes, I shall write her a letter.”

As Antoinette stood up, she noticed her mother shake her head with a slight smile before beginning her arrangement.

Antoinette did not wholly understand her parents' aversion to her nature. Sure, she was a little excitable, and perhaps a bit loud and forward. But it was nothing that would interfere with her ability to be a good lady, wife, and mother. If anything, from her experience volunteering at Sunday school and local orphanages, she found that her slightly less stern demeanour made her more endearing to children than some of the less excitable women were. And that closeness with children was something she treasured. She had a natural affinity for them and did not understand how some governesses and teachers would be so strict with the poor little things. She felt confident that she would make an excellent mother someday, not despite her slightly boisterous and rebellious nature, but because of it.

But she was also coming to see that, even though she did not entirely understand the rigid social expectations which surrounded her, she had to conform to them. If she wanted to marry and marry well, it was necessary to act more like a Lady, to be more controlled, demure, and conforming. Once she wed, she would be in a better position to relax and be her true self. But until then, she significantly improved her prospects by hiding some parts of her personality.

Sitting at her dresser, she nudged her toiletries to one side with her arm before setting up a writing pad, some paper, and a quill.

“Dearest Lucy,

I am terribly sorry that I have not written sooner. There is no excuse for my silence. However, if it is of any reassurance, I have been incredibly busy, and there is much to tell you.

My brother, as you know, has departed on yet another Mission to India. It is hard work for him, but in his last letter he intimated that he is genuinely satisfied with the good being done, and suggested he may be away some time.

You may recall that my cousin, Mary Elridge, was available for marriage and seeing some very eligible suitors. Yesterday she was finally wed to Duke Haskett, Duke of York. Despite the trials which fate cast in their way, they have seen the value in one another, and are now united in Holy Matrimony, and very much in love.

Which leads to my present circumstances. My parents have, after much deliberation, decided it is time for me to consider marriage in earnest. And not a moment too soon! Yesterday afternoon, at Mary's wedding breakfast, I met the man who is sure to become my husband. I will not reveal too much as of yet, for fear that I am wrong. But I shall hopefully see him soon, and I eagerly anticipate that day.

I hope that you are well, and would love for you to be home for Christmas.

Yours dearly,

Antoinette”

Sealing the envelope, Antoinette decided she would post it by hand. That way at least she would get some fresh air. She desperately needed to cool off, as all the thrills of the morning had made her blood run hot, and her dress itched uncomfortably. Yet another thing she could not comprehend about the rules society imposed on her. She knew she needed to dress modestly, but many city girls whom she knew dressed much more lightly, almost in the fashion of Ancient Greek statues, with one or two flowing layers. Meanwhile, in the villages the fashion was moving, but still leaned towards bigger and heavier.

Her own parents were a bit lenient about conformity in this respect. Antoinette wore dresses which were much lighter and sleeker than most of the girls in the village. But they were still heavy and uncomfortable in comparison to the latest city fashions. She simply could not fathom why clothing which was modest enough for the city was not modest enough for the country. Especially when the city clothes were so much more comfortable.

“I wish to post my letter to Lucy,” Antoinette said, peering into the front room, where her mother was still working on her flower arrangement.

“Could you not send it with a messenger? Or perhaps wait for the postman so that someone can hand it over?” her mother asked.

“I would like to walk a little, the exercise will do me good,” Antoinette replied.

“Very well,” Lady Byrd said. “But make sure to ask a maid to escort you.”

“Of course, mother,” she answered.

Her parents were so peculiar with what social norms they adhered to and which they did not. They were not happy with her adopting city fashions, or walking down the road unescorted to post a letter. Yet they were perfectly happy for her to make major decisions about her suitors. But then, they did not believe she was mature enough to marry until recently, despite giving her so much freedom. It made no sense to her.

She was sure, the more she thought about it, that her parents were simply going along with whatever fads and trends their friends were following. They had no consistency, no pattern to their behaviour. It was simply as close to average as they could get. Antoinette could be more fashionable than the other young women in the village, but she had to be more conventional than city girls. She was expected not only to observe potential suitors and create a list of those she deemed reasonable but also to behave like a traditional lady in every other aspect. She had to go out and lead an active life, but always with someone at her side. Their insistence on staying in the grey area was confusing and frustrating to her.

As she walked down the lane and entered the village, she was so caught up in her own thoughts she almost missed the two figures standing down another lane, talking in front of a pie shop. But a second glance revealed that it was, in fact, her father and another man, talking.

She paused briefly and watched them for a second.

“Is anything the matter, mistress?” the maid asked.

Antoinette shook her head a little. “Who is that speaking to father?” she replied.

“I do not know, mistress. His face seems familiar, but I know not from where.”

Antoinette pondered waving and shouting, then realized it would be too unladylike. She also considered going over to see them, but perhaps that would be rude? She sighed. Why did this all have to be so complicated? Was she really hurting anyone when she was forward and loud? It seemed more designed to inconvenience her than anything else.

As she wondered what to do, her father and the man shook hands and parted ways. The man began walking towards the road, whereas her father walked in the opposite direction and disappeared around a corner. With no opportunity of finding out who this man was, all Antoinette could do was scrutinize him. He was reasonably tall, and only a few years older than her. His tidy blonde hair was well-kept, but his clothes suggested he was a little less wealthy than the people her father usually associated with. Still, he carried himself with the dignity and confidence of a man who could not possibly be of weak character or morals. He seemed quite the enigma.

He glanced over at her, doubtlessly sensing her eyes upon him, and she looked at her letter instead, as though making sure the address was spelled correctly. Glancing back up, she saw he had continued down the road. Who was he? Why was her father speaking to him? And, most of all, why could she not get this perfect stranger off her mind all of a sudden? She would have to ask her father about this strange man later. Something about him was…peculiar.