As she sat in bed, wondering how long it would be best to keep this ruse up for, Antoinette at least had her answer. Duke Godwin may love her as much as he was able to love any woman. But he did not love her even as much as she had loved him, let alone as much as Mr. Perry loved her. Duke Godwin loved Antoinette the same way a man loved his prize hunting dog. She was pleasant, and useful, and met the requirements he had set forth. But she was not important enough for him to make sacrifices for her.

This was her answer.

But what was she to do about it? Mr. Perry had promised himself to Lucy, had he not? And she had been prepared to marry Duke Godwin even if he did not love her at all. Or she had believed she was prepared to enter a loveless marriage. But this was different to loveless. This was a marriage with two different sorts of love. The cold and practical love which Duke Godwin expressed towards her, and the deep and passionate love which she felt for Mr. Perry. It was a marriage which was doomed to fail.

But she could not think of a better solution to her family's circumstances.

As she sat back in bed and relished the silence, it was interrupted by the sound of a voice shouting. The voice was some way down the hallway, and muffled by at least one wall, but she recognized it immediately.

It was John Campbell.

What was he there for? Antoinette knew it had to be something to do with Cecilia. What else, after all? But John must have barely just arrived and already there were some strong emotions being let out. She needed to know about this. But it was the sort of thing which was not discussed in polite society by people like her mother.

The only way she could guarantee herself a genuine account of the conversation taking place was if she heard it herself.

As though compelled to do so by forces beyond her control, Antoinette slipped out of bed, put on a day coat, and crept down the hallway. Being discovered would put her doubly in trouble. Not only for spying on her sister and brother in law's private argument, but also for pretending to be ill in order to get rid of her own fiancé. But something was telling her she needed to see this.

Stopping just outside Cecilia's door, she could make out every single word.

“I... I can't do this, John,” Cecilia insisted. “It has been too long. We have been waiting and waiting for this to work out and it isn't. There is only so many sacrifices I can make.”

“But you have barely made any sacrifices,” John replied, his voice low and weary, “I have made most of them. I have done all I could to protect you from the pain of making the sacrifices I am having to. And all you do is... refuse to do anything.”

“Because you are not considering my needs, my actual needs! Not dresses or fine wines, the things I genuinely need. Your time, your love...” Cecilia said pleadingly.

“No, you are being inconsiderate of my needs, of your own children and I... I sometimes believe I married the wrong woman,” John said coldly.

“Well perhaps I married the wrong man,” Cecilia replied.

Silence fell. Antoinette was not sure if she ought to go back to her room before either Cecilia or John stormed out of their bedroom. But they did not. Instead, she could hear them speaking again, now in lower voices.

“I am sorry,” John said. “I did not mean to say that. You are the right woman for me. Through thick and through thin. I may place a few too many demands on you, and that might scare you away, but all I want is for you and our children to live the life of luxury you deserve.”

There was another pause before Cecilia replied. “I am also sorry. I have been selfish. But I am scared. We worked so hard to create what we had and it all came collapsing down so suddenly. And then at a time when I needed you, you were just... spending.”

“Had I known it was bothering you I would not have done such a thing. I figured you were sad because of the loss of our wealth,” John replied.

“No... I thought it was part of my anger too for a while. But this time here with my family has made me see that you are doing your best for me. And... and even if we have nothing, I will still love you,” she insisted. “I was wrong to leave. We ought to be together, and fight this as a family.”

As their voices grew lower, Antoinette got up and sneaked back to her room. This was not what she had expected. But in some ways it was turning her thoughts on their head.

She had wanted to do what was right for her family, largely based on what her sister had told her. She had been afraid of ending up like Cecilia: disappointed in life and a burden on their family. But now she saw the nuances to her sister's situation. It was not a case of black and white, where one person was in the right and the other in the wrong, or where one action was just and the other was inappropriate. In marriage she should not have to sacrifice all she was for her husband, or for her family. But neither should she be able to demand complete freedom at her husband's expense. It was give and take between two imperfect humans, trying their best to do the right thing and be happy.

Antoinette sat on the edge of her bed. She knew now what Mary had meant when she had said that fate would decide. And fate was deciding.

Sir Dodge, and all her lesser suitors, had been swept away by the tides of good fortune, protecting her from a surely terrible marriage to someone completely inappropriate for her.

But now she was left with two men, and fate had not yet decided which she would be allowed.

Her heart and soul were set on Mr. Perry. But he was not hers to claim. Not yet. Nothing was set in stone between him and Lucy, of course. Not until the vows had been exchanged. However he was still largely interested in Lucy, and their union would be favourable to both of them. Meanwhile, Antoinette and Mr. Perry marrying could have disastrous consequences for both.

Besides, she was engaged to marry Duke Godwin. Which, although also not set in stone, was almost so. After all, she could not exactly turn a Duke away for a... nobody. The whole of proper society would be against her. If he were above Duke Godwin, or even his equal, there would be some sympathy. But if she were to chase after Mr. Perry she risked becoming a pariah. No... it was too late.

A knock at the door startled her. “Just a minute,” she said, making an effort to sound ill, but also hastily make her way back into the bed. She needed to keep up the impression, if for no other reason than to protect herself from the awkwardness of having to admit to her lie. After all, it was not as though she would be putting on the act for Duke Godwin...

“Come in,” she finally said once she was buried under the covers. She had expected Duke Godwin to have returned. Or her mother to be paying her a visit. Or for her sister and brother in law to be standing there, ready to tell her the good news of their reconciliation.

But it was Mr. Perry.

She felt the heat rising to her face and averted her gaze. “Back so soon?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Perry replied. “I was on my way into town when I bumped into Duke Godwin. He said your illness had suddenly taken over you again. Something to do with being exposed to too much cold and damp air. He asked me to come and stay with you a while.”

“I am so glad you could make it,” she said. And she genuinely meant it. Whereas her supposed fiancé could only think of his wedding plans and of passing her care onto someone else, Mr. Perry was more than willing to change the course of his entire day to keep her company.

“You do not look so terribly ill,” Mr. Perry commented.

Antoinette blushed. “I am not terribly ill,” she confessed. “I did not want to spend any more time with Duke Godwin. And I was testing him a little too...”

“Did he pass the test?” Mr. Perry asked with a faint smile.

She shook her head.

Mr. Perry's smile fell. “Oh... I suppose he is a good choice nevertheless?”

“He is practically my only choice, but as far as having no choice goes, this is by far the best lack of choice to have.”

“You are indeed most fortunate,” Mr. Perry said.

“You are more so,” she replied. “I did not need the help of Duke Godwin anywhere near as much as you needed the support of the Fitzroys.”

“I have actually come across some good fortune,” he said with a slight shrug. “I intended to tell you in the garden, but... I suppose I did not wish to do so in front of Duke Godwin. It's not absolutely certain yet, of course, but good news is good news and I needed to tell someone... You may need to be calling me Duke Perry from now on.”

Antoinette blinked and paused. She looked into his eyes. He was not lying. “Did you say 'Duke'?”

“Well, it's not confirmed. But do you recall how I was handling some estates belonging to my deceased uncles? It turns out one of them had married a woman who was the only child of the Duke of Devonshire. When she passed away during labour they left no heir of their own. But the Duke of Devonshire has, himself, passed on since my uncle's death and unless they can find a direct descendant or a living sibling of the late Duke's... I may be a Duke.”

Antoinette gasped. “That is most wonderful news! I am so pleased for you. If it does come to pass,” she added hastily, tapping her wooden bed post.

“I shall hear back in the next few days. Or the next month, by January at the latest.” He drew a deep breath, as though trying to calm himself. “I have not told anyone else yet, of course. I must wait until I know for sure. Makes a bit of a difference from the few pounds I thought I would be inheriting.”

Antoinette was in awe. And yet... “I suppose Lucy would be a very happy girl, becoming a Duchess so suddenly,” Antoinette said. “Well, when she finds out. If it happens. Nevertheless she must be glad that you are inheriting some money. It takes the pressure off her family.”

“I actually... I have not told her about either thing,” Mr. Perry confessed.

“You have not?” Antoinette asked. “Why not? I thought you were going to ask for her hand in marriage. Surely it would count in your favour if her parents knew–”

“I have not asked for her hand,” Mr. Perry interrupted sheepishly. “I have been reluctant to take any action at all, as things stand.”

“Oh, you are waiting for the news before you decide? So that you have greater leverage?” Antoinette asked.

“Not exactly...” Mr. Perry replied, averting his gaze, his face blushing bright red.

“Then why?” she asked. Although she had a sneaking suspicion she knew the answer already.

“Would you like to marry me, Antoinette?” Mr. Perry asked.

“But... I am engaged to marry Duke Godwin,” Antoinette replied.

“An engagement is as easily made as broken,” Mr. Perry insisted.

“Not one to a Duke,” Antoinette argued. “It may be all well and good to break up an engagement to a simple shoemaker, or a doctor, or even a soldier. But with the amount of clout a Duke wields, I would need to be marrying someone far more important than him. Otherwise I could be ostracised, my family's business could be sabotaged... I am at risk if I insult him by eloping with a, pardon the term, lesser man.”

“I suppose you know the Duke of Devonshire has somewhat more influence than the Duke of Hamilton,” Mr. Perry replied.

Antoinette looked at her hands and sighed. “But you are not the Duke of Devonshire. Not yet, at any rate. You are Mr. Perry.”

Mr. Perry hesitated and then reached out, laying his hand over hers. She knew she ought to pull it away, but she did not. “What if... what if we stall our respective weddings?” he suggested. “At least until I know whether or not I shall inherit the title.”

“I... I am not sure I can,” Antoinette replied.

“Pardon my forwardness, but... you love me, do you not?” Mr. Perry asked.

Antoinette felt her face flush again and clenched her fist. She could not answer that. It would be wrong. It would mislead him. It was too soon...

“I love you,” Mr. Perry continued in a low voice. “I have loved you a long time, Antoinette. I would do anything to make you happy.”

Antoinette sighed. “If you would do anything to make me happy... then leave. Leave me alone, do not visit, do not write to me. If you become a Duke, then return and we may be able to discuss marriage.”

“When does Duke Godwin intend to marry you?” Mr. Perry asked.

“Some time before Christmas. Or after, but before the new year,” she replied, still avoiding his gaze.

“Please, buy us some time,” he insisted, “persuade him to delay the wedding until after Christmas. By then I ought to know if I shall be a Duke, and I will have all my paperwork in order. Then you can make your choice.”

Antoinette knew what she ought to say... but she also knew what she wanted to. And sometimes you needed to ask for what you wanted. “I will make sure that we are not wed before the new year,” she said. “I am ill, remember?”

Mr. Perry grinned and, as she looked up into his eyes, he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers in a brief, tender kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered.