“Was there anywhere in particular that you wished to frequent in Mayfair, Lady Adelaide?” Lady Francesca purred as they walked along with their chaperone, Edith, trailing behind. Puffs of condensation swirled from Lady Francesca’s lips with every word. Meanwhile, their ermine collars were pulled tight to keep out the wintry bite that nipped at the cheeks of those brave enough to wander amongst it.

“Now that you mention it, yes, there is somewhere I wish to go,” she replied firmly. A day had passed since she had watched the shadowy figure disappear into the fog. There was no guarantee that the shadow had been Reuben. However, his continued silence spoke volumes.

“Oh?”

Adelaide looked towards a row of charming townhouses up ahead, each one gleaming in the autumn sun. They were perfectly identical, though peppered with a hint of personality. Some had flowers blooming from hanging baskets, whilst others had quaint statues or stone lions perched in protection of the house. The doors stood out in an array of different colors, too. Adelaide had her gaze fixed on one with a door of bottle green.

“I had hoped to visit with the Dowager Duchess of Bradford,” she said defiantly, steeling herself for the courage to come.

Lady Francesca shot her a horrified look. “I thought I recognized this street. You cannot, dear Lady Adelaide. Truly, there is nothing to gain from such an intrusion.”

“Honesty would seem a good enough reason for me, Lady Francesca.”

“I must insist that we turn around this instant and find more joyful distractions for our afternoon.”

Adelaide shook her head. “I will not be deterred, Lady Francesca. You may accompany me, or you may leave. It is entirely your decision. I must have answers.”

“This is a foolish endeavor, Lady Adelaide,” Lady Francesca warned. “I can understand your disappointment, but the Duke’s absence at the Assembly Rooms does not mean anything.”

“And the lack of announcement in yesterday’s and today’s news?”

“There are often delays in publishing, too,” Lady Francesca stumbled over her words. “I am sure this is all one enormous misunderstanding. You will soon see that everything shall be put to rights. A little patience is all that is required.”

Adelaide smiled. “A virtue that I, sadly, do not possess.”

“I implore you to see sense. No good may come of this.”

“I will not stand by and have a gentleman humiliate me,” Adelaide explained coldly. “If he is toying with my good name and my reputation, then I deserve to discover it for myself before he can cause any sort of ruination. If this is a misunderstanding, then no harm can come from a casual inquiry with my future mother-in-law.”

Lady Francesca reached for Adelaide’s hand. “I do not think it wise.”

“Perhaps not, but that will not prevent me.” She extricated herself from Lady Francesca’s grasp and headed in the direction of the bottle-green door. Two lions stood at either side of the steps. They were somewhat weathered, with a smattering of lichen growing across the dull stone. From the looks of them, Adelaide imagined they had been there since the house was built.

She reached the top step and turned to find Lady Francesca and Edith loitering at the bottom. Edith was a rather casual sort of woman, who cared not what her charges did as long as they did not get her into trouble. As such, it seemed that neither Lady Francesca nor Edith were going to accompany Adelaide inside. That suited her just fine.

Slowly, she reached up and rapped the brass knocker. It was shaped like a stag, the antlers curving up towards the green wood. A proud snout faced outwards, indented eyes staring Adelaide down. The sound ricocheted into the house beyond. All she could do now was wait.

A few moments later, she heard footsteps echoing in what she presumed was the hallway. Her heart leapt into her throat as she waited for the door to open. If Reuben answered, she had no idea what she was going to do. In truth, she hadn’t really planned that far. Then again, a gentleman such as Reuben was unlikely to answer the door personally.

A middle-aged man answered. Dressed in a crisp black suit, with his gray hair neatly combed and oiled back, Adelaide supposed him to be the butler. “Yes, how may I help you?”

“My name is Lady Adelaide Colborne. I was wondering if the Dowager Duchess was at home?”

“Do you have a scheduled appointment, Lady Colborne?”

“I do not.”

“Then I highly doubt that she will see you, My Lady. She is not prone to inviting unsolicited guests inside.”

“I am an acquaintance of the Duke.”

The butler pulled a face. “Another one,” he muttered. “Are you in some sort of trouble? Do you require some… specific assistance?”

Adelaide was not entirely sure what the butler was referring to, but she could guess. Evidently, she was not the first spurned woman to turn up at Reuben’s door. Although, she supposed they were not often as high in station as she was. Nevertheless, as she had already told Jasper, she did not care for Reuben’s past. She sought only to better his future, so she might better her own. A few indiscretions could be easily ignored for such a reward.

“I desire only to speak with either the Duke or his mother,” she replied firmly. “I am in no trouble.”

“Do not leave the poor girl out in the cold, Bartholomew,” a sharp voice called from inside the shadowed foyer. Adelaide attempted to peer over the butler’s shoulder, but she could not make out the speaker. The stern tone sent a shiver up her spine, reminding her of stark governesses from bygone days.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Bartholomew muttered, gesturing for Adelaide to come inside. “Shall I have the kitchen prepare an early tea for you?”

“If you would,” the speaker replied, though she was still nowhere to be seen.

“Just through the door on the right,” Bartholomew urged, noting Adelaide’s confusion. “Do your companions care to come inside?”

She smiled. “I think they would prefer to remain outside, thank you.”

“Very well.” As the door closed behind her, Adelaide felt a sudden rush of panic. The comforting glow of the sunlight evaporated, leaving only the dark entrance hall of the Mayfair townhouse. Her sole exit to the outside world had been shut off. Indeed, Lady Francesca still stood on the steps beyond. If anything were to happen, she doubted anyone would come to her aid.

What are you expecting to happen? she chided herself. The Dowager Duchess is likely to be perfectly civil towards you, given your attachment to her son. Truly, she wishes for the marriage to go ahead as much as anyone. You heard Reuben say so. With so many waifs and strays turning up at the door, no doubt she is eager for him to make an honest man of himself.

Calming slightly, she glanced around. The walls of the entrance hall were paneled with dark mahogany, whilst the floorboards were cloaked in thick rugs of deep burgundy intertwined with rich navy. No scrap of natural light seemed able to find its way in, though oil lamps flickered down the hall. Tapestries hung from every wall, depicting classical ladies and refined gentleman in various states of action. Some remained motionless and stiff, sitting in chairs. Others stretched out in repose, whilst several images depicted fierce battles and proud soldiers. It was a curious mixture of art, with one central point of similarity--everything held a heavy, gothic quality.

The butler disappeared down the stuffy corridor, abandoning Adelaide to her foolish undertaking. Ignoring her unease, she made her way into the first room on the right. The door was already open, leading into an equally gloomy drawing room.

“I was wondering if I might have the pleasure of your company one day soon,” a voice remarked. Adelaide’s gaze flitted this way and that, but she could not pinpoint who had spoken. Two high-backed armchairs were positioned beside a roaring fire at the far side of the room. The Dowager had to be sat within one of them. Either that, or she was rather good at hiding.

“Your Grace?”

“Indeed, Lady Adelaide. Come, sit with me.”

Forcing away the nausea that lingered in the pit of her stomach, she followed the sound of the Dowager’s voice. Sure enough, the old lady sat in the right-hand armchair. Despite her advancing years, she retained some semblance of beauty and elegance. Her silvery hair was arranged in a modern fashion, piled up in curls atop her head. Meanwhile, her eyes were sharp and clear. They gazed upon Adelaide in a hawkish fashion that made her feel like prey.

“You knew I would come?”

The Dowager smiled. “I thought you might, if you were akin to the tales that my son has told me of you.”

“Your son has spoken of me?” She was oddly taken aback by the admission.

“He is rather fond of you, or so it would seem,” she replied, with a flick of her slender wrist. “I have never seen him quite so enamored of a young lady before, and I have certainly never encountered one who might entice him towards marriage.”

Adelaide gave a tight laugh. “Perhaps, the latter shall remain unachievable.”

“You are concerned about the announcement?”

“I am, Your Grace. Residing in London, you must be aware of how swiftly gossip may spread,” she explained quietly. “I happened to be at the Assembly Rooms the other evening, and news of our engagement already appeared to be common knowledge. I should hate to think that I have been fooled into believing your son is an honest gentleman, when he does not mean to wed me as he has promised.”

The Dowager chuckled, taking Adelaide aback. “My son shall wed you in due course, as arranged. You must not worry, dear girl. He is a reckless creature of whims and fancies, but he is rather taken with you.” She offered an encouraging smile. “Indeed, I do not know how you have managed it, but I commend you for it.”

“How do you know he still intends to wed me, Your Grace?”

“Because he is my son, and I wish it of him,” she replied. “If he will not do so willingly, then you may rest assured that I will insist upon it.”

Adelaide’s heart sank. “So, he does not wish to marry me?”

“In truth, I believe he does. My son is a curious individual. He does not always process matters in the same way that others might,” she ventured. “No doubt the imminence of the engagement has startled him. He will return once he has managed to calm any disquiet within his mind.”

Adelaide’s head snapped up. “Return?”

“Indeed… I do not currently know of his whereabouts.”

“He is missing?”

The Dowager laughed. “He often vanishes for days on end. Occasionally, it may be weeks, but he always returns. I do not imagine this state of affairs shall be any different.”

“Weeks?” Adelaide gasped.

“You have nothing to fear, my dear. He will come back to you.”

“And if he does not?”

“He will, Lady Adelaide, one way or another.” Her tone carried an unsettling chill that made Adelaide’s blood run cold. Although she looked old and fragile, Adelaide had a feeling that there was more to the Dowager than met the eye. If Reuben did not come home of his own accord, she imagined there would be dire consequences.

“Will the announcement go ahead, Your Grace?”

The old lady reached out and took Adelaide’s hand. “It will, sweet girl. I shall see to it myself. That way, my son will understand that he cannot continue to hide from his responsibilities. I am not getting any younger, Lady Adelaide, and I should like to welcome grandchildren before my time is done. His days of amusing himself are at an end.”

Adelaide flushed at the notion. “My mother and father will be most pleased to hear this news.”

“And you, Lady Adelaide? Do my words comfort you?”

She nodded. “They do, Your Grace”

“Then I can ask for nothing more.” She clapped her hands together abruptly, frightening Adelaide out of her skin. “Now, where are those tea things? I am quite parched. Bartholomew! Where are the maids with our tea things?”

Adelaide sat back in the comfortable armchair and let her gaze drift into the flickering flames that licked in the grate. She had not expected to be so welcomed by the Dowager, and she did not know how far to trust the friendliness. Although, she could understand the old lady’s position. Evidently, she wanted to secure her son’s future as keenly as Adelaide’s parents wished to secure hers. Children safeguarded legacies. Without a good marriage and an heir, everything the Fletchers had built would fall to nothing. They would become a half-remembered name in the annals of history.

It made her think about her cousin, Charles Colborne, who stood to inherit all of her father’s lands and titles once he died. The notion of it had always stuck in Adelaide’s throat like a lump of dry bread. Being female, all of that was denied to her. Indeed, none of this would have happened if things were different. Had she been born a man, she would not have to marry for security. It did not seem fair. It never had.

Half an hour, and several cups of tea later, Adelaide emerged from the townhouse to find Lady Francesca sitting on the front step with Edith. Neither looked best pleased.

“At last,” Lady Francesca remarked bitterly. “I had quite given up on you.”

“My apologies, Lady Francesca.”

She stood and brushed down the back of her dress. “You were in there far longer than I expected.”

“You are not the only one who is surprised.”

“It was a success, then?”

Adelaide gave a small shrug. “As successful as it could be, given the nature of my betrothed.”

“But your engagement still stands?”

“As far as the Dowager is concerned, it does.”

Lady Francesca clapped her hands together in delight. “That is splendid news! Goodness me, I was so afraid for you.”

“Truly, I thought my heart might leap right out of my mouth.”

“Well then, what do you say to a celebration at Miverts Hotel? My treat. Edith, you do not mind, do you?”

The chaperone shrugged. “You may do as you please. You usually tend to.”

Adelaide giggled. “How can I possibly refuse?”

They were halfway down the street when Lady Francesca removed something from her small bag. “That reminds me, a rather unpleasant young man handed us this note whilst you were inside. He said I was to give it directly to you.” She handed Adelaide a square of paper that had been folded and sealed without an emblem.

“Did you get a good look at the man?”

“Not really. He appeared to be an urchin of some kind. He frightened Edith half to death.”

“He did that, Lady Adelaide,” Edith conceded.

Adelaide frowned. “How very peculiar.”

Lady Francesca nodded. “I thought so.”

Cautiously, Adelaide unfurled the square of paper and read the words within. She held it close to her chest, to avoid the peering eyes of Lady Francesca. The handwriting was instantly recognizable.

I am almost disappointed, my love. Don’t you know, marvelous things come to those who wait? Do not become like all the other girls, I beg you. Thinking of you.

So, this is a game, she thought sadly. What was she supposed to do whilst she waited? After all, as she had said, patience was not a virtue she possessed.