As he had promised, Mr. Perry did his best to take care of her. Everything which she had been expected and commanded to do for Duke Godwin, he did of his own accord, for her. Mr. Perry would sit by her side reading to her from various books and newspapers, always with the door open, of course, to give everyone peace of mind. Mr. Perry would have his breakfasts and lunches with her and make sure she always had company or something to do when, in the evening, he headed home to continue working on his uncles' estates. He would buy her sweets in town and bring them to her, and carry her tray of tea upstairs first thing after he arrived.

He made her feel happy, comfortable, relaxed. And he did it all without her ever having to ask for anything. She did not need to tell him what she expected, as she expected nothing from him. When he asked what he could do to help, she was honest with him, and he would do his best to provide what she asked for. And throughout it all, he remained cheery and friendly towards her. Mr. Perry was a true friend to her, she could see that much.

And, best of all, he was amazing conversation. Whether it was about the smallest of matters, such as the weather, or serious subjects such as faith or philosophy, he always managed to present his opinion in a way that was convincing to her. He always had something funny to add, or some interesting new angle from which to view a situation. But more than anything he was simply a pleasure to talk to. Every conversation with him was easy and natural. Every word left her hanging on, waiting for more, wanting to talk with him until they ran out of things to talk about.

In every single way, Mr. Perry's presence brightened Antoinette's day beyond what she had imagined. She found herself not even too worried about seeing more people. Rather, she felt Mr. Perry would be enough for now.

Antoinette was beginning to feel guilty about how she had treated him until then. It was not his fault he was not Sir Dodge or Duke Godwin. It was especially not his fault that they were not like him.

She knew that Mr. Perry would make an excellent husband for one lucky woman someday. He was attentive, chatty when you got to know him, and easy on the eye. But she had to think of her family, and they needed more money. Even her own mother had admitted that financial security was a deciding factor in who would make a good husband for Antoinette. And financial security Mr. Perry did not have. Not enough for them. Not yet.

“How is Lucy?” Antoinette asked as Mr. Perry poured tea the next morning.

Mr. Perry smiled. “She is quite well. Thank you for asking. She has gone to spend some time with her grandmother.”

Antoinette detected something amiss in his tone of voice. A hint of sorrow and disappointment, despite the smile. “Did it not go well? Will she not see you again?” she asked.

“Oh no,” Mr. Perry shook his head. “Despite my lack of wealth, she and her parents are still very much interested in seeing us wed.”

“Marriage?” Antoinette asked, shocked. “So soon?”

Mr. Perry stilted briefly. “I understand it may seem sudden, but really it is for the best. Lucy is very much infatuated with me, her parents are fond of me, and I... I would do well not to pass up such an opportunity.” Antoinette noticed again a slight sadness in his voice.

“I understand,” she replied. And she genuinely did. He, like her, was making a choice he was not entirely confident about, because it was the best option at the time. He too was not sure where it would leave him, but he knew it would be better than remaining unmarried forever. “I am glad that my two best friends could be married soon. Although now I feel rushed to settle down myself!”

Mr. Perry laughed a little. “Do not rush if you have no need to. You have many options.”

“But I do need to,” Antoinette replied bluntly.

“Then... rush, I suppose,” Mr. Perry said as he made his way to his seat.

Antoinette laughed nervously. “Yes, rush rush rush... and I would if any of them came to visit me.”

Mr. Perry sipped his tea and crossed one ankle behind the other. “None of them have paid you a visit yet?”

Antoinette shook her head. “I know that during this time of year they will be busy, and I know it is a lot to ask them to come and visit me whilst I am ill. They could become infected themselves. But not a single letter? All my female friends and acquaintances have sent me flowers and cards, but my so-called suitors are missing entirely.”

Mr. Perry sighed and shrugged. “But what are you to do? Duke Godwin is ill, is he not?”

“Yes, he is. But not all of them are ill. And this would be the perfect opportunity to sweep me off my feet by showing kindness and affection. Even a single rose would make them stand head and shoulders above the rest. And they need it, too, because the competition is strong. The only thing I can guess is perhaps I am not so important to them after all,” she concluded with a shrug.

“Then they are fools,” Mr. Perry replied instantly.

Antoinette felt her heart throb as he said this. She wanted to ask him to elaborate. To say why these men were being so foolish in his opinion. But she held back. What would it accomplish? It would make him wax lyrical about her positive qualities, which would be highly inappropriate considering that him marrying Lucy was a very real possibility. She would not be able to marry Mr. Perry no matter how many nice things he said about her. It would just cause tension.

And besides, why did she want him to say something flattering to her? It was all about pride, about boosting her confidence. She felt bad because her suitors had all vanished and were not paying her attention now she was ill. She felt bad because her friends sent her flowers, and her sister and Mr. Perry had come to visit, but the men who claimed to love her had done nothing at all. She felt bad because she had done so much for Duke Godwin during his time of need and neither he nor Sir Dodge could find it in them to care for her.

But Mr. Perry was not her emotional doctor. He was not there to treat the aches of her heart and her ego with his kindness. He was there as a friend, to see her through.

“Thank you for being here,” she said softly.

“What are friends for?” Mr. Perry replied with a slightly mournful smile.

A knock on the door frame alerted them both to the presence of a third person standing in the open doorway. It was Cecilia. Antoinette was about to tell Mr. Perry that it would be no trouble for him to stay, and that perhaps they could all talk together, but it was too late. He had already stood up and picked up his teacup.

“I shall go and attend to some letters in the library. I do not think you will want me intruding on your sister's company,” he said.

Antoinette was about to correct him and say that she would very much enjoy spending time with both of them together. Especially because she did not feel like spending time with her sister alone. But she could not say such things. She smiled at Cecilia as Mr. Perry left the room.

Cecilia closed the door unceremoniously behind him and walked over to the chair beside the bed, collapsing down into it and shaking her head a little. “Who is that?” Cecilia asked, looking suspicious.

“A friend of the family. Mr. Perry,” Antoinette replied.

“Another man looking for money where there is none?” Cecilia asked.

“Actually, he is no longer a suitor of mine,” Antoinette corrected her.

“Did he find out we have no money?” Cecilia asked.

Antoinette grumbled and rolled her eyes. “This is exactly why I do not like talking with you of late... why nobody likes talking with you of late,” Antoinette said, finally snapping. “We attempt to be civil, pleasant, to see things your way and what good does it do? What reward do we get? More bitter complaints and insensitivity. You think of nothing but yourself.”

“But I am thinking of you!” Cecilia protested. “I do not wish for you to end up like I am.”

“And I will not. Because I am not you. Because whoever I marry I will support him. Because I will put our family before my own selfish needs and my own desire for fairytale romance.” Antoinette glared at Cecilia.

Cecilia drew back a little and scowled. Her face began to flush in shame and anger. Then, she stood up and glared back. “Very well. If you will choose to be unhappy then that is your choice. But I deserve better in life than that.” She turned around and stomped out the door. As she slammed it behind her, Antoinette spied tears streaming down Cecilia's red cheeks.

Antoinette sank back into her pillows with a sigh. How could Cecilia be this way? Every time she had seen her sister, Antoinette had looked up to her. After all, Cecilia had been the very picture of a well-behaved girl, a respectable woman, and a happy wife. She had always done the right thing when Antoinette wanted to do the wrong thing. She had always known how to behave in difficult and strange situations. She had always carried herself with grace and obeyed when Antoinette would act impudently and rebel.

And yet it seems it had all been a cover for Cecilia's slowly brewing resentment towards everything. A resentment she had almost passed on to Antoinette.

Antoinette yawned and felt herself sliding down into the pillows even more.

That interaction, however necessary it had been for their family, for Antoinette herself, and perhaps even for Cecilia, had been draining. She was not as recovered as she thought she would be. Even a little stress was exhausting. But she could not sleep. Not knowing that she and her sister now had so much anger between them.

But what more could she have done? She had to tell Cecilia what she really thought. For everyone's sake. She would have to talk to Mr. Perry about this. He would listen. He might even have some advice.

As she lay there, tired, yet unable to sleep, she heard the door open and some footsteps hurry in.

Sitting upright suddenly, she saw her mother opening the wardrobe and quickly checking through the dresses. Lady Byrd turned to look at Antoinette and smiled briefly before reaching back into the wardrobe. “Good, you are awake. Please sit up and wash immediately. And put some more make up on, you look grey and ill.”

“I am ill,” Antoinette replied, sitting up nevertheless. “Can I not remain in bed?”

“We have a guest,” Lady Byrd replied, pulling a dress out of the wardrobe and walking over to the bed. “You must be presentable.”

“We have had two guests already and I was sufficiently presentable for them,” Antoinette replied, wiping her make up off in order to apply it again.

“It's Duke Godwin, you need to look your best,” Lady Byrd insisted, taking a comb and beginning to work on Antoinette's hair. “We had no notice whatsoever, and none of the maids are available... I hope we can make you presentable quickly...”

Antoinette was in two minds about this. On the one hand, she did want to look good for Duke Godwin. But, on the other hand, this fuss was making her angry. He had not needed to put in all this extra effort to see her. He had been allowed to just... be ill. To focus on recovery. Meanwhile she was expected to look fresh and lively, and to be sitting up, fully dressed, in her reading chair? She sighed and continued applying her make up Indignation would get her nowhere. People who acted on their indignation wound up like Cecilia. She had to remain civilized and make the effort.

It did not take too long before Lady Byrd reluctantly admitted that any extra effort would not be worth the time Duke Godwin would be waiting. Antoinette was settled into her chair and a couple of blankets were draped over her legs to keep her warm. Then, Lady Byrd went to call Duke Godwin.

Antoinette felt awful. Whereas in bed she had felt fairly confident that she was recovering, the combination of those intense emotions, of moving around, and of exposing herself to the cold air outside her bed was too much. She felt a chill run all over her body and hoped that Duke Godwin would not be there long, so that she could creep back into bed and snuggle up warmly, to recover.

Duke Godwin arrived after what felt like forever, followed by a maid bearing a huge vase of flowers, and another maid with a tray of tea and cakes. Duke Godwin smiled as he made his way to the chair facing Antoinette's. “Do not stand, not in your condition.”

“Good afternoon, Duke Godwin,” Antoinette said, as opposed to “I was not intending to.” She smiled as he sat down. “It is wonderful to see you faring so well.”

“I wish I could say the same for you,” Duke Godwin replied. “You look very ill and tired.”

“I am. I suppose I am at that point of my recovery where you were when Duke Haskett and my cousin took over your care from me.”

“You should not be out of bed,” Duke Godwin said. “It will do you no good at all.”

Antoinette briefly considered confessing that it was her mother who had insisted on getting her out of bed and dressed. But she did not wish to invite pity, or to make Duke Godwin feel bad for what her mother had demanded. She shook her head. “Not at all, I feel better in myself when I am up and dressed.” It was not a lie. She did feel, on a personal, emotional level, better for making the effort. She would just not mention that on a physical, medical level she felt like she was completely void of any energy, sore, and freezing to death.

Duke Godwin seemed relieved. “I suppose if this is what you wish to do. But do not make yourself worse, going to all that trouble for me.”

“It is no trouble at all,” Antoinette insisted as another chill ran down her spine.