“But who is he?” Lady Fitzgerald said under her breath, staring at Lord Jones.

Lucy could tell that her mother was scrutinizing the man, inspecting every inch of his clothing, the lines of his haircut, the rings on his fingers, trying to work out who he was, where he stood relative to them, and, most importantly, if he was unattached and looking for a wife.

Lucy just shrugged. “I do not know. His name is Andrew and he is a great dancer.”

“That does not matter, dear,” Lady Fitzgerald replied. “What matters is that he is the only person I've seen you with tonight whom you did not already know, and you have not even found out his title.”

Lucy shrugged again. “I only wanted to dance.”

Lady Fitzgerald sighed and turned to the Lord. “It is the hair, is it not? It's putting men off approaching her. We ought to buy her a wig.”

Lord Fitzgerald nodded. “I shall have one ordered tomorrow. For now, I shall find that young man and see if we can find out who he is.”

Lucy shook her head. “It is nothing important. We simply got along. But he said he will be returning to India soon, so what odds does it make?”

“India? So he is a friend of Thomas's from the Mission?” Lady Fitzgerald said, wrinkling her nose. “And with that dark skin and that frame... I would not be surprised if he is some sort of a common doctor...”

“Now, dear, let us not be too hasty,” Lord Fitzgerald replied. “He is dressed very well and is very fashionable. I shall go and talk to him and see who he is.”

“And if he is suitable, what does it matter if he returns to India?” she said to Lucy. “Thomas was in India such a long time and Julia remained engaged to him all along. We simply need to secure an engagement before he departs.” She smiled sweetly at Lucy, who just shook her head.

“What worked for Thomas and Julia would not work as well for me, I am sure,” Lucy insisted.

“Of course it will. Are you saying you are not as good as Julia? She is a fine young lady and following her example is probably the only way to get on in life,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.

“But what if I cannot be apart from someone so long, and only talk to them in writing?” Lucy asked.

Her mother shook her head. “You managed to do so for us when you were in boarding school.”

“But that was in England. And you are my parents. Besides, after boarding school I am not sure I want to live so separated from the people I love ever again,” Lucy insisted.

“You will need to be apart from us and from your friends when you marry,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.

Lucy frowned. She wanted to answer back, but she could not think of an appropriate reply. It was not needed, though, as her father was already returning from the crowd. And he looked irked.

“What news?” Lady Fitzgerald asked eagerly.

“He is a Baron,” Lord Fitzgerald began. “Lucy, you knew this, did you not?”

Lucy shuffled her feet a little. “I do not know, he may have mentioned something of the sort.”

“Lucy!” her mother replied. “I simply cannot believe your actions, child. When a man tells you what his title is you must pay attention. How could you forget something as important as that?”

She shrugged. “I just wanted to dance, I did not believe that it was important to find out a man's rank if we will just dance a little at a wedding reception.”

Her mother shook her head. “You cannot just dance with a man, you must think of your character, your marriage prospects, your future,” she said in a quiet but stern voice, so as to not attract attention.

Lucy was furious. “I do not see why every time I so much as look in a man's direction we need to start thinking about marriage!” she said in an angry whisper. “Can I not just dance?”

“Of course not,” her father said. “Lucy, you are a lovely young lady, but you will not be forever. Why would you waste all your time frivolously dancing and socializing with friends when you could be securing yourself a Baron for a suitor?”

“But he is not interested in marriage,” Lucy replied. “So I could not have secured him as anything.”

“Then why were you wasting your evening dancing with him?” her father rubbed his temples. “If he will not marry you, then you need to find someone who might be more interested.

Lucy sighed. “I just want to have a bit of fun. Is it a crime to have a bit of fun dancing at a friend's wedding?”

“It is indecent, that is what it is,” her mother replied. “What do you think those men are thinking when they are dancing with you like that?”

“I do not care what they are thinking,” Lucy replied.

“When you are older and you understand how these things work, you will be ashamed of how you are conducting yourself right now,” Lady Fitzgerald said angrily. “Anyway, you have made enough of a fool of yourself for one night. We are retiring.”

Lucy looked around. “But I have not said farewell to my friends,” she said.

“And you shall not. If you will behave like a child, then you shall be treated as one. Your father will remain to apologize for our early departure, you and I are going back home,” her mother insisted.

Lord Fitzgerald nodded in agreement. “That is a wise decision, my dear. I shall see you at home.”

Lucy made an effort to maintain her poise as they walked out to the coach, but internally she was brimming with anger.

Once they were in the coach, her mother had another thing to add. “I do not think you are prepared to see suitors. Or anyone, for that matter. Until you are prepared to treat the men we present you with some respect, and earnestly attempt to show your best side to them, you are confined to the house.”

Lucy was indignant, but she knew better than to rebel against this. Fine. If they wanted to keep her away from all her suitors, then fine. It was what she wanted anyway.

After returning home Lucy immediately headed upstairs to get changed for bed. She felt a little regret that she was not going to see much of her friends and family, but at least she would be free from the usual social expectations. She tucked herself into bed and, exhausted, fell asleep immediately.

* * *

“Lucy, it is time to get up,” her mother's voice said.

Lucy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Uh, good morning... Why are you here?” she asked. Normally it was the maid who woke her up. Was she still dreaming?

“Your father wanted me to have a talk with you first thing,” she said, looking a little sheepish as she placed a tray with a cup of tea on her daughter's bedside table. “He has said it is counterproductive, and unfair, to stop you from seeing your suitors.”

Lucy nodded, already feeling stressed even though she had just woken up. “Who shall I see next, then?” she said with a heavy heart.

“Actually, that is precisely what I am here to talk to you about,” Lady Fitzgerald said, throwing the curtains open to let the light in. “We have found where Lord Jones is living, and we have invited him for lunch. Quite graciously, he has agreed. He shall be here at one.”

“What time is it?” Lucy asked, sipping her tea.

“About eleven, so you must get up and dressed immediately,” her mother replied. “And please, do forgive me for what I said last night. It's only... you are a difficult child.”

“And I am sorry if you think I am difficult.”

Fully aware that was not an apology, Lady Fitzgerald glared a little at Lucy. “Just... get dressed.” And with that she left the room.

Lucy again felt bad for annoying her mother. But what else could she do? Comply and get married like a good girl? No, she would do everything possible to avoid that fate. Even if it meant insulting her parents and being confined to her room for the rest of her life.

Standing up, she went to look for the right dress. It was odd that Lord Jones had accepted to come for lunch. It was not at all what she had expected. She figured if he was so against social conventions he would simply reject her parents' invitation. And yet he seemed fairly happy to agree, so much so that in one morning the invitation had been sent and accepted.

Lucy decided it would be worth dressing up a little bit for. Not to seduce him, of course. But merely to impress him. To show him that she was a creature of class, sophistication, and great taste just as he was. Her parents had been right to point out the luxurious and fashionable clothes he had been wearing. And she felt compelled to prove herself to be his equal.

Finally dressed in a modern, trendy, white day dress and some red jewellery which showed off her dark hair and fair skin, Lucy felt ready to go for lunch. Walking downstairs, she could hear that even though there was still half an hour left until lunch, Lord Jones was already there, chatting cheerily with her father in the drawing room.

She peered in and, seeing both her parents and Lord Jones were there, made her entrance.

“Lucy, how do you do?” he asked with a slight bow.

She curtsied. “Very well, and you?”

“Very fair, thank you,” he replied, straightening himself and smiling at her. Again, the smile seemed falsely arrogant.

He looked pretty good again. It was clear he either had plenty of money, or was a man of fine taste who would compromise other things to avoid compromising on style. It was something she would normally hold against a man, that he was better dressed and cared more for his clothes than she did. She usually viewed it as unmanly to be so frivolous. But in him it was, if not good, a forgivable flaw. After all, nobody was perfect.

Besides, it was easy to forgive flaws in someone you did not intend on marrying. He did not even have to be perfect. He just had to be good conversation, and a fun dancer.

“I had a wonderful time at the reception last night, even if the couple of the hour was there for less than an hour,” Andrew remarked. His eyes briefly landed on Lucy, as though asking for her approval.

She just blushed and looked aside, not quite sure how to interpret this gaze.

“Many couples are very eager to begin their new life together,” Lord Fitzgerald said. “I know I was. And it is rare for a reception to be held so late into the night.”

Andrew nodded. “I find it a little ridiculous for a wedding to go on all day, though. In my opinion it should be between the bride and groom and their families, not some big affair for the whole town.”

Lady Fitzgerald shook her head. “No, you must invite some people of status, you cannot ignore them. Think of how insulted local Barons, Earls, and Dukes would be if they were not invited to your wedding?”

“I would trust that my friends would understand my desire for a private, intimate event,” Andrew said with a shrug.

“But not everyone is your friend,” Lady Fitzgerald replied.

“Then why on earth would I invite them to my wedding?” Andrew replied.

Lady Fitzgerald cast him a disapproving glance, but when she looked to her husband he only shrugged, so she did not add anything else.

“Let us go through to the dining room,” Lord Fitzgerald said, waving towards the door. “It is almost time for lunch.”

As her parents walked out ahead, Lucy walked beside Lord Jones. “Do you really mean it when you say things like that, or do you only intend to shock?” she asked quietly.

He shrugged. “I only say what I genuinely think. But I am possibly more liberal when it comes to sharing the thoughts which ruffle feathers the most.” Again, his eyes met hers, asking for her to agree with him.

“Why do you like offending people?” Lucy asked.

“Because it is fun.” Andrew waved a hand in a playful circle. Something about the gesture seemed contrived to Lucy, like he was putting on an act.

“Hardly.” she scrunched her face is disapproval. “You drive a wedge between yourself and those who would love and care for you. You deeply hurt more sensitive people. And you make yourself look completely lacking in compassion and consideration.”

He seemed somewhat taken aback at the lack of support she showed. But quickly his face became calm again. “But consider this,” he replied, “that those who would distance themselves from you for your thoughts are unworthy of your company, those that are sensitive deserve to be hardened, and compassion and consideration ought to be reserved for those who show it to you.”

Lucy could not find fault with his analysis. But it still didn't feel right to her. Whenever she hurt her mother's feelings she felt it deeply in her heart. Whenever she broke a suitor's heart she regretted it for days. She acknowledged that sometimes insulting someone was the only way to make your lack of interest clear, but she took no pleasure in it and longed to return to the days when she was sweeter and kinder, according to her true nature.

As the entrees were served, Lord Fitzgerald turned to face Lord Jones. “I was wondering,” he began, “if I might ask you a question.”

“Of course, feel free.”

“I saw that you and my daughter, Lucy were dancing and talking quite a bit last night,” he said. “You seemed to be enjoying yourselves.”

“Yes, she is a terrible dancer but it was great fun.” There was subtle warmth to his tone of voice.

“And I have heard from some friends of mine that you are currently unattached? After—”

“Yes, I am,” Andrew interrupted, smiling in a way which suggested he, like everyone else at the table, knew where the conversation was going. He was just allowing Lord Fitzgerald to finish what he was saying out of politeness.

“I was wondering if perhaps you would like to court our daughter,” Lord Fitzgerald said.

And it was then that the politeness ended. Lord Jones burst out laughing.

Lord and Lady Fitzgerald cast one another an indignant look, then their faces returned to a forced expression of politeness and they looked back at Andrew, who drew a deep breath and sipped his wine. “No thank you, I have no intention of marrying.”

Were he anyone else, Lucy knew that they would certainly have kicked him out for that display. But they had to remain cordial towards him, so they just nodded in bewilderment.