When Antoinette got home, her father was not yet back from his errands. She knew that when he was about town, he could be gone for hours, possibly until the evening. But still, she felt her curiosity mounting. It was just too much to bear.

Catching herself thinking about her father and the strange man yet again as she read a book, she wondered why she could not get this subject off her mind. She had always been nosey, but this was far too much. She closed her book, unable to focus, and looked out the window. She knew that a lady ought not gossip or get excited about secrets and other people's lives. She also knew full well that most ladies did. Why should she correct herself and fight her own thoughts when nobody else would, or even could? No, she was sure that curiosity was natural and healthy. Though, of course, she could never say so in polite company.

The sun was already setting and she knew he had to be home soon. He never stayed away the night. Still, despite knowing it was coming, hearing the door downstairs close brought on a surge of excitement. She took a deep breath. She ought not look too energetic or curious in front of her parents, or they would decide she was being childish and possibly stop taking her suitors seriously until she behaved herself again.

Making sure she looked neat and tidy, she headed downstairs to where her parents were talking in the front room. She could smell that dinner was being served in the dining room, and she knew that it would be best to ask her father before or after he ate, not over a meal.

She waited patiently in the doorway as her parents talked. They truly were her role models. A loving, trusting couple in a good, Christian marriage, who still showed each other respect and affection after two and a half decades of marriage and three children. She sighed.

“Antoinette, I did not see you there, come on in, honey,” her mother called.

She nodded and walked into the room. She made eye contact with her father and wondered how to introduce and phrase the question.

“Well, what is it?” her father asked, an eyebrow rose in suspicion.

“Father, I wanted to ask...” she began. She paused, unsure how to continue. “Well, the matter is... I saw you were talking to a man in town earlier and...” A wave of inspiration hit her. “You see, the maid who was with me said she knew him from somewhere and I was wondering who it was, is all.”

Her father shook his head. “Perhaps she knows him from somewhere else. He has not been here before.”

“Oh... Who is he?” Antoinette pressed.

“Nobody of much importance,” her father replied. “Stop being so nosey, you will know what you need to know, when you need to know it.”

Antoinette was highly suspicious. But what could she say? Her father was right, after all. She was trying to find out about something which she had no part in. But she couldn't see what was so wrong about asking him the question.

That night she could not rest. It was so frustrating, not to be able to say what she thought or talk about whatever she wished to. It was just as frustrating knowing that Duke Godwin would be responding, possibly as soon as tomorrow, and she would have to wait. Everything seemed to revolve around waiting for the right time, the right place, and the right person.

But she did not want to wait. She ached to actually do something.

* * *

Two days later, Antoinette was anxious about the lack of a reply from Duke Godwin. He was not so far away that she could expect the post to take so long. Of course, he would probably be very busy with important affairs related to his Duchy. She could not begin to imagine how busy a Duke's schedule must be. And yet... if in two days he had not composed a reply, how important could she be to him?

One would expect, at the very least, that if he were to find himself too busy to consider her parents' proposition, he would have had the decency to send a letter explaining the delay. But nothing was happening, and Antoinette was increasingly concerned that he was not going to reply at all.

Hearing the post announced, she rushed downstairs, only slowing down when she spotted her father accepting the letters and beginning to leaf through them.

“Ah, Antoinette, here,” her father said, passing her an envelope, “this one is for you.”

She took it and inspected it. It was Lucy's handwriting. She felt a little surge of joy, but then focused once again on her father's hands as he shuffled the letters. They seemed to receive a lot more post than before, and none of it ever seemed to be of any importance. Antoinette had wondered whether her parents were socializing more at first, but it did not seem to be the case. And still, their letters mounted up.

“Any news from Duke Godwin?” Antoinette asked as her father opened and peeked into the last letter.

“None as of yet. He is a busy man. Be patient,” her father replied absent-mindedly. “Now run along, I need to attend to these.” And with that he marched off to his study.

Antoinette found herself scowling. First they expected her to act like a lady, now they treated her like a child again. They ought to make up their minds already. Still, at least she had Lucy's letter.

Lucy's letter was not a disappointment. Far from it, Antoinette was glad to hear from her dear friend. But even as she opened it, she could not help but wonder where Duke Godwin's reply was. As she waited for breakfast in the drawing room, she opened Lucy's letter.

“My dearest Antoinette,

It was so lovely to hear from you again! And please do tell me of your suitor. You simply cannot tease me so, and then leave the matter unresolved. Whether he is your husband to be or just a daydream, I would love to hear all about him.

I ought to be home well in time for Christmas, thank goodness! Life in the school is dreadfully dull as usual. It is fine for girls, but no place for a young lady. Who knows? Perhaps in a few months I will be seeing a few suitors of my own. I hope courtship is all our favourite love stories make it out to be.

Yours dearly,

LF”

After reading the letter she felt Duke Godwin's silence far more acutely. He had to be avoiding her. There was simply no other explanation. Something she had said or done at the wedding had offended him, he had been too polite to say anything at the time, but when he had received her father's letter he had used it for kindling and gone about his daily routine, hoping to never hear from her again.

During breakfast Antoinette could barely eat. She felt saddened and sickened by her own actions. Her parents were probably right. She was too loud, too forward, too boisterous to be a young lady. She may have thought she was speeding matters along by dancing and talking with so many men, and introducing them to her parents. But she must have come across as too desperate, or too infantile, for any man to be interested in her.

She nudged her eggs around on her plate and sighed.

And, if that were the case, then perhaps she was not ready to marry after all? If what men wanted from marriage was something she could not offer, then-

Footsteps sounded in the doorway, and the footman walked in carrying an envelope.

“Someone was just here to deliver a message from Duke Godwin, sir,” the footman said, handing the envelope to Lord Byrd.

Antoinette's confidence soared, then crashed again. Everything depended on this letter. If he wished to see her, then all was well and she could continue being herself. But if he had rejected her... then everything she was doing could potentially be wrong, and need correcting before she saw another suitor.

Antoinette's heart fluttered as her parents read the letter. She needed to see it herself. “What does it say?” she asked, tapping her foot on the carpet again.

Her mother beamed. “Read it yourself,” she said, passing it to Antoinette.

“My esteemed Baron and Baroness Byrd,

Thank you for considering me, and my sincerest apologies for my lack of a reply. It seems your letter was lost among some household papers. I did not intend to cause yourselves, or your daughter, any undue distress.

As for the matter of courtship, I found your daughter quite charming at my friend, Duke Haskett's, wedding. I would very much like to see more of her, and therefore agree to court her.

I am presently a little busy to visit, however given a week, I shall come and see your family, and would appreciate any time I may spend in Antoinette's company.

Yours sincerely,

Duke Alexander Godwin.”

Antoinette was over the moon. And yet... something still troubled her, but she could not work out what. She dismissed it as simple nerves. As her parents discussed their reply to Duke Godwin, she excused herself from the table and headed upstairs to tell Lucy of her new suitor.

“Lucy,

You would not believe my luck! The man I was writing about in my last letter has confirmed his interest. And he is no less than a Duke! He has promised that he will see me next week, and I look forward to spending this time with him.

I have only just begun courting in earnest, as my parents had not been convinced I was prepared until recently. However thus far I am finding it quite thrilling and romantic. I expect the romance to continue as I begin seeing my Duke more often. I know that he is a wealthy and extravagant man, albeit a somewhat shy one also. I believe that time spent with him will be unrivalled even by the most creative and passionate of romance novels.

I shall write anon, with details of our courtship,

Yours dearly,

Antoinette”

Finishing her letter, Antoinette was unsure what to do with herself. On the one hand, she knew that she had to be prepared for Duke Godwin. On the other hand, she had all of a week to do it in. For now, she supposed she would just need to post her letter and wait.

“We must make arrangements immediately,” her mother's voice announced from the doorway.

“Arrangements?” Antoinette replied, blinking. “Whatever for?”

“For Duke Godwin,” her mother replied with a slight sigh. “It may not be for a week, but one can never prepare too early to see a Duke. Now, first things first, we must go to town and buy you a dress.”

Antoinette felt her attention drawn in as soon as her mother said this. Quite unlike her cousin Mary or her friend Lucy, Antoinette took great pleasure in all things fashionable and frivolous. Some artistic sensibility in her made her drawn to dresses, to jewellery, to flowers and shoes and gloves. It was not about the cost of these items, but about the way they looked and felt on her body. She felt feminine, beautiful, and confident in them.

She understood that one could have too much of these things, and limited herself to what she could reasonably say she needed. After all, the goods of this earth are not forever. But, if her mother insisted she needed a new dress...

“I'll post my letter whilst we are in town,” Antoinette said with a broad smile.

Her mother smiled back. “I must confess, I do believe I am just as excited as you are,” she admitted. “A Duke! Why... nobody in our family had been so lucky as to marry a Duke for generations. And now your cousin is married to one, and you also stand to marry a Duke. It is quite the adventure.”

“Nothing is guaranteed, though,” Antoinette replied.

“Of course not,” her mother agreed. “But I trust in you to do your very best to impress and please him. I know it is a lot to ask of a girl who has not yet had a proper courtship. But opportunities such as this one are few and far between, and we cannot pass it up simply due to your inexperience.”

Antoinette found the trip to town therapeutic. She really could not stand to be indoors so much. It was driving her up the walls. Outside, in the fresh air, she felt revived, her stress dissipated, and her mind cleared. As she leafed through the catalogue of patterns the seamstress had, and lightly stroked the fabric samples to select her perfect dress, she felt fully prepared to face a courtship with Duke Godwin.

On the walk back home, her mother remarked on her daughter's sudden change of demeanour. “I have no understanding of it, but you truly are a different woman when you get out,” she said to her daughter.

“Whatever do you mean?” Antoinette replied.

“At home you are so full of energy, it is almost as though you cannot control your words before they leave your mouth, or your body as you pace, or bump into things. And yet after a morning of brisk walking, shopping, and talking, you are quite the lady,” her mother explained. “You carry yourself better, you speak more calmly, and you move more slowly and deliberately. I noticed this at the wedding also, but after today I can see it was no fluke.”

Antoinette nodded. “I do always feel so much better when I can get out of the house more.”

“You say that as though our home were a bad place to be. Do not forget how fortunate we are,” her mother chastised.

Antoinette shook her head. “It is not that. I know our home is a wonderful house, and that our lives are very much blessed. I simply... feel more at ease when I can do things outdoors.”

Her mother shook her head as they approached the garden gate. “Although you are my daughter, I fear I shall never truly understand you. The home is where a lady belongs, it is not a place to be feared or to escape from.”

Antoinette was about to counter her mother's statement, when they walked in through the door and found themselves face to face with a gentleman. He stood, holding his hat and cane, as though politely waiting for someone.

Antoinette paused, scrutinized his face for a second, then gasped.

He was the same strange man she had seen her father with nearly a week ago.