The Benwicks’ country house, in the hamlet of Foxcotte, was the last ton party of the season. As the line of carriages drove down the road to the manor, Emmeline was silent, only listening and humming her approval to Ann’s fervent chatter as they approached her home.

Her mind was occupied with weighing and debating how she was going to approach George on behalf of Noah. It was not going to be easy, she knew that. George held his grandfather’s word as law and was so steeped in tradition that it was going to take a hefty effort and—hopefully not—the drastic measure the Duchess of Newberry had mentioned, to change his mind.

“Em!” Ann huffed, “You’re ignoring me, I can see it!”

Emmeline blinked her way to the present and met Ann’s flushed face and glimmering eyes. “No, I was not ignoring you, Ann…I was just distracted. I heard when you’ve decided to send Lord Coombs to Coventry for not putting in a formal courtship notice. I’m sorry, Ann, I know you fancy him dearly, but things are getting a bit complicated on my end.”

Sniffling, Ann turned her head to train her eyes out the window, before she sighed and looked back, “I understand. You do love him, don’t you?”

Darting an apprehensive look to Lady Alford, who was still asleep, Emmeline nodded, “I do, but it’s this family feud that is making matters such a mess. Last night…Noah told me that he was going to challenge George for my hand.”

Ann’s eyes went wide, “A duel—has he lost his senses, Em? He’s already in the crosshairs with the authorities for St. Maur, how could he think of doing such thing?”

“Because he loves me,” Emmeline replied, “And I him, but…instead of Beatrice and Benedick, I’m pressed to think we are now Romeo and Juliet–doomed to die for unfulfilled love.”

Ann reached over and grasped Emmeline’s hands in hers. “You are neither. Put these distressing thoughts out of your mind.”

“I need to find a way to change George’s mind towards Noah.” Emmeline sighed. “But he is so stubborn that I fail to think he would listen to me.”

Ann chewed on her lip a bit then sighed deeply, “He might listen to me.”

Soft surprise lit Emmeline’s features, “So, was all this hostility between you and my brother some sort of a mirage? Was it all pretend? Do you not hate him then?”

Ann snorted and rolled her expressive eyes, “Hate is a bit strong… he irritates me to no end but… we have an understanding and do not go making any conjectures about that!”

Emmeline’s lips twitched, “I’d never dare. So you will help me then?”

“Of course. Nothing will stop me from doing so,” Ann nodded. “Does Lady Alford know–ouch!”

The carriage hit a deep pothole and with a bounce, jerked the sleeping lady awake. Ann stopped speaking immediately as her aunt sat up, blinking furiously, and snapped her fan out.

“Dear me,” Lady Alford sighed, while fluttering the fan, “I fell asleep. I’m not as young as I believe myself to be. Have we arrived?”

“No, Aunt, we have not,” Emmeline replied while leveling a warning look to her friend.

Ann looked out the window, and smiled, “But, yes, Lady Alford, we are near.”

While the older lady was busy fanning herself, Ann and Emmeline exchanged loaded looks and mouthed some words silently. Ann had silently ordered them to speak before they got called to the evening meal.

Nodding her acceptance, Emmeline settled herself to wait for their arrival, and while doing so slipped back into her memories of last night. She hadn’t gone back to the assembly after she rushed out of Noah’s presence but stayed in the room until her aunt had come to check on her.

Seeing her distressed state–one Emmeline had played off as illness–the matron had ordered some calming tea and a bath for her. Not saying a word about Noah, Emmeline had accepted the offers, drank her tea, took her bath, and went to bed.

The next day as they were leaving, Emmeline experienced the unfortunate incident of meeting Noah’s eyes before she had gotten into her carriage, and the pain it carried had sent her spiraling back into the hurt from the night before. She did not know if Noah was still going to challenge her brother, but she prayed his mother would keep him from doing so.

“Ah,” Ann smiled, “Here we are. Home, sweet home.”

Looking out, Emmeline saw a line of meticulously-trimmed hedges leading to a sprawling country house. The domicile was two main stories with a gabled floor above, but it had wide eaves and additional structures dotted around the sixteen acres of land. The house was made of dark-gray stone, while beautiful slate work adorned the roof. The carriages approached a circular drive, with a magnificent Greco-Roman fountain, featuring a woman holding a large pitcher on her shoulder. The work was so carefully designed that the water came out of the pitcher in graceful arcs.

Two people, both dressed in black, were standing at the bottom of the stairs and under the arching eaves of the house. They were probably the butler and the housekeeper, Emmeline assumed.

“Donovan and Mrs. Gibbs,” Ann smiled in confirmation of Emmeline’s thoughts. “I’ve missed them.”

They were the first carriage to arrive and stopped to allow the coachman to dismount and lower the carriage steps, to aid the ladies down from the vehicle. Ann was the first to leave, and her servants immediately greeted her.

“Miss Benwick,” Mrs. Gibbs smiled and curtsied, while the butler was overseeing the removal of the luggage. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gibbs,” Ann nodded, “Is Mother resting?”

“Yes, she is, Miss,” the housekeeper replied, “she had to return early to see to the preparations for tomorrow night. She had faith that her companion could oversee you.”

Emmeline had to smile to that–Ann had spun circles around the woman that was paid to oversee her, keep her in sight, and check in on her.

“Of course,” Ann replied, “You do remember Lady Emmeline Grant?”

“Yes,” the woman replied and curtsied, “Welcome, Lady Emmeline Grant…and Lady Alford.”

Emmeline didn’t need to turn, as she had heard her aunt’s dainty steps on the crushed gravel of the driveway.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gibbs,” Lady Alford replied, with her fan busy fluttering in the air. “Is Mrs. Benwick in her parlor?”

“Yes, Milady,” Donovan’s deeper tones inserted, “Mrs. Gibbs will escort you ladies inside.”

Grasping her skirts, Emmeline climbed the broad stairs and entered the wide foyer. The room was light and airy, with thin tulle curtains over wide windows, and a line of dark carpet down the length of the room. Past it, they entered the central room and saw a wide staircase, situated to the left side, that went up to the second storey.

“You are staying with me, Em,” Ann pronounced. “Mrs. Gibbs, please instruct that her luggage be carried to my rooms.”

The three women knew that Ann was breaking protocol, but none cared, and they couldn’t refuse an order. Emmeline barely got to kiss her aunt on her cheek before Ann bade the two women goodbye, grasped Emmeline’s hand, and tugged her up the flight, across the landing, and down a few well-known corridors.

Ann’s suite of rooms had matured from the last time Emmeline had seen them. The wallpaper was a calm beige with a very subtle Florentine pattern, and a dark brown rug covered the floor. The first room was Ann’s sitting room and the furniture matched the colors around them–cream, beige, and dark brown.

Emmeline was surprised. How had Ann tempered her personality so much? The last time she was there, the colors were all specimens of the rainbow, vivid reds and oranges, dark greens and blues, and rich purples.

“Ann,” Emmeline exclaimed, “Why have you gone neutral?”

“Oh,” Ann pouted, “my mother is forcing me to act my age, be all ladylike, and that comes with a more ‘refined’ image.”

Looking around, Emmeline nodded, “I like it. It is not your style, but after you get married you can upholster in any vivid color you want.”

“Exactly,” Ann replied, and sat on the nearest chaise, tugging Emmeline with her. She removed her shoes and then flexed her stocking-clad toes. “Oh, that feels nice. So now, why have you not spoken to His Grace?”

Emmeline sighed, “Because I fear for his life, Ann. Every time I see him in my mind, I see his dead body and my brother gloating over him. I’m scared to death.”

“You love him that much,” Ann sighed. “I’m glad that you’ve found him. I, on the other hand, only feel fleeting attraction here and there. There’s nothing that captures me, and certainly nothing to keep me coming back.”

Inquiring golden eyes turned to her, “Do you think maybe you’ve found it already, but don’t know it?”

Ann slanted her best friend an evil eye, “Do not go using that ‘I-know-something-you-don’t,’ tone on me, Missy.”

Shaking her head and deciding to address that issue another time, Emmeline sighed, “I think there’s another reason for George’s anger towards Noah and–”

“Ooh!” Ann cooed like a girl smitten with her first crush, “He’s Noah now, not His Grace, or the Duke of Newberry?”

“No,” Emmeline shrugged as there was no point in lying. “The day he challenged St. Maur, he made me promise to call him by his Christian name if he came out alive, and I did the same for him.”

Ann leaned in, “You really are in deep, my friend. But none of that. How do you plan for me to get to your brother?”

“He thinks you are infatuated with the Duke,” Emmeline replied. “Actually, he thinks you are infatuated with almost every man except him. Tonight and tomorrow, could you pay attention to him and ignore your many suitors?”

Ann’s eyes narrowed, however playfully, “I am not a tart, Emmeline, but I will butter up your brother if you need me to. I know you are planning much more, but that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Great,” Emmeline said while stifling a yawn, “can you get some tea and biscuits? I am hungry, and I am tired. Are we sleeping in the same bed as when we were children?”

“Where else would you sleep?” Ann’s left eyebrow was arched sardonically, “On the floor? Or on the balcony?”

Laughing, Emmeline lobbed a small pillow at her and ducked when Ann flung the same cushion back at her.

With his forearms braced on the balcony’s balustrade, Noah could feel eyes digging into the back of his head but didn’t deign to turn around.

He, Ian, and a few other bachelors from the Bexley Manor house party were gathered in the Benwicks’ den. Four of them were playing cards, and two were reading books from Mr. Benwick’s library.

That left Noah and Lord Bexley standing silently on the balcony, with tumblers of scotch in hand, looking out on the verdant property. The Duke of Leverton had sojourned to his home to take care of a matter but was slated to rejoin the party later that night.

Lord Bexley sighed and decided to break the silence, “Care to tell what is perplexing you, Newberry?”

“The same beautiful perplexity that has confounded men from the dawn of time, Bexley,” Noah grunted.

“Has Lady Emmeline rejected you then?” Lord Bexley asked, with his brows knitted over dark blue eyes.

“No,” Noah said grimly, “but I think I have lost her.”

“How?” Ian inquired, before drinking a sip of his burning alcohol.

“I told her that I plan to engage her brother in a duel for her hand,” Noah replied, not even casting an eye at Ian’s hacking choke. “She told me she'd rather be alone than see me on ice.”

Lord Bexley managed to control his cough and patted his chest to clear his airways, “Well, firstly, her statement shows how much she cares for you, and, secondly, instead of a duel, how about going about this discourse like civilized men, around a table?”

“With cocked pistols pointed at each other under it?” Noah returned dryly while swirling his drink. “The man would rather see my cold hide than shake my warm hand, Ian.”

“Have you even attempted to try?” Ian pressed, “Assumptions will not get you anywhere, my good man.”

“What it there to try, Bexley?” Noah groused before throwing back the rest of his drink. “I’m telling you, the man is unalterable. God alone has the power to change his mind–I am not that commanding.”

“I still believe it can be done,” Ian pressed. “Leverton is coming back tonight–approach him then.”

“Be my witness,” Noah added flatly, “And the executor of my will after that.”

“Stop being dour,” Ian huffed, “I can bet my left arm she only fears for your life.”

“I told her I loved her, Ian,” Noah admitted as his eyes were latched onto the burgeoning evening star. “And the light in her eyes when I said it gave me all the hope. Do you know that I had even imagined running off with her to Gretna? I figured my reputation was in the pits, so what of it? But she dragged me to my senses.”

“And I am glad she did, or I would have been forced to injure you,” Ian added.

“Lady Emmeline is…” Noah paused as he considered his words, “She is everything I had hoped for in a woman–lovely in spirit and smart in mind, beauty to draw me and ignite a healthy jealousy, but not a temptress to keep me mired in it. She is my wife in my heart, Ian. I just need it on paper.”

His best friend was silent before he chuckled. “That is the closest I have heard you waxing eloquent, my friend. I fain I heard the making of a sonnet in that speech. Which is a lucky equivalent, Sir, as Lady Emmeline had played the master’s Sonata No. 14 for you after you were engaged with Stevenson.”

Noah’s head snapped around, “The Sonata 14?”

“The one and only–the tune of true love,” Ian smiled and saluted Noah with his glass before he rejoined the men in the den, “Think of that.”

The pink rays of dawn found Emmeline sitting in the window seat, curled up in her nightgown, with her hair set under its silken bonnet. For the first part of the night she had slept soundly, but after waking up to use the chamber pot, sleep had eluded her.

She ached to see Noah, but she wasn’t sure what she would do when she saw him. Dancing with him under the stars, away from prying eyes, and pressed on his chest had felt like heaven on earth to her, but then he sullied it by telling her of his plan to challenge her brother in a duel.

Her brother had been true to his word and had arrived at the Benwick house but late, near one in the morning. She didn’t think she could see him before the noonday meal, at any rate. She cast an eye over to Ann who was still sleeping, curled up on her side like a child. Briefly, she envied Ann. Her friend did not have to meander through the malaise of loving her family’s sworn enemy.

Breathing softly through her nose, Emmeline shook the dour thought off. Tonight was the last assembly, but also the night for her brother to begin seeing Noah as a fellow man and not an adversary.

The sunlight was steadily chasing the lingering darkness away, and Emmeline hoped that some fortuitous steps would be taken that eve. She and Ann had spent most of the night planning how they would approach George.

Emmeline knew her brother had some military training and would detect strategic tactics when they were being played on him, so an indirect approach was going to be used. The plan was for her to be disheartened about Noah, telling George in no uncertain terms that she loved him, and while George went to stew, Ann would approach him.

Ann was going to play the Devil’s Advocate, complimenting and disparaging Noah in a separate breath, but the coup de grace was when Ann would tell him that Noah, having let off with any chances of being with Emmeline, had started to court her instead. It was a perilous act, to both entice and then dance upon the thin line of George’s jealousy. Emmeline knew her brother was affectionate towards her friend, but they could not see any other way.

She hoped it would spur George to focus on winning Ann back and let the reins holding Emmeline captive loose. She even hoped that it would give George the impetuous to make peace with Newberry.

“Em, dear,” Ann’s testy voice came from the bed, “I know you are the human incarnation of a lark, but I am an owl, so please close the curtains or I will be forced to have you removed from my bedroom.”

Laughing under her breath, Emmeline pulled the drapery, and the room was shrouded. “Better, your Highness?”

“Much.” Ann yawned and snuggled back into her sheets. “Thank you.”

Marveling how Ann could sleep so suddenly after waking–an art she could never master–Emmeline found herself perusing the bookshelves in Ann’s sitting room.

Old poetry books, works of Greek mythology, and a few books she was familiar with: The Monk, Cecilia, and The Vicar of Wakefield. Shooting a look at a still-slumbering Ann, Emmeline picked up Cecilia and started to read–actively distracting herself from worrying about what was going to play out later.

The ballroom in the Benwick house was marvelously decorated with luxurious greens, white, and purples. Clear and glistening mirrors bordered the dancefloor, reflecting the party-goers’ lavish clothes and the lights from the wide-curving chandelier.

Luxurious gowns paid for from ancestral coffers, were out and on display. Dresses of satin, silk, taffeta, and velvet were embellished by delicate lace, luminous pearls, glistening sequins, and hand-tooled embroidery.

“Oh, my dear,” Lady Alford fussed, “such a flurry by the gentlemen here to dance with you, Emmeline. Requests were coming in for introductions at luncheon, even.”

Emmeline’s eyebrows lifted, “I cannot fathom why that could be. May I examine whom you’ve approved, Aunt?”

Taking the card from her chaperone, Emmeline scanned it, her eyes skimming over Lord this or Viscount that, searching for the one name she both wanted and feared to see–Noah’s–but it was absent.

A dull pain went through her, but she forced her face to not show it. Handing the card back to her aunt, Emmeline smiled, “I hope it wasn’t too much of a task for you, Aunt.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Lady Alford, dressed in a gown with colors that reflected her mature status, of dull ivory skirts with a bodice of light puce, with a matching puce scarf draped around her shoulders, and ivory gloves tutted, “This is why we are here. To find you an exemplary young bachelor.”

I’ve already found him Emmeline noted wistfully to herself.

Scanning the crowd, Emmeline spotted Noah conversing with Lord Bexley–that was normal enough. But what concerned her was the tightly strained look on Noah’s face–a look Emmeline imagined was one worn by a person facing the gallows.

What could possibly be bothering him?

“The first dance, dear,” Aunt Catherine said, “is with Lord Harris from Surrey, and then the second is with the Earl of Essex. And then we have…” Emmeline listened with one ear to her aunt’s chatter, but her mind was focused on the ruse she and Ann were going to play on the two men.

When the call for the first dance was made, Emmeline kissed her aunt on the cheek and lifted her skirts. Her dress, a pale-yellow cotton weave with gold metallic thread embroidery and amber silk ribbons was her favorite, and she rarely wore it–but tonight called for it to be displayed.

Then, by divine will or devilish taunt, Noah’s eyes met hers, and a pain-filled longing went through her, one she thought was mirrored in his eyes. Emmeline had to drag her head away and face her aunt forcefully. The Duke turned away to finish his conversation with Lord Bexley, and it was the perfect opportunity for Emmeline to put her plan in action.

She didn't need to fake her agony as it was already pulsing through her system like a beating drum. She turned away and fled to the nearest balcony with tears in her eyes. Passing by Ann, she hoped her best friend would take the cue, find her brother, and tell George about her distressed state, urging him to find her.

She found the furthest corner of the balcony and huddled in it, far away from the jolly crowd behind. The night was as dark as spots on her soul. The bleakness she felt, knowing that her future was held in the balance and out of her control, was fuel for her performance.

The cold air was a bit bracing, but she was resolute in her purpose. Unbidden but fortunate enough, a tear slipped out of her eye and trickled down her face just as George stepped on the terrace, his expression a bit manic.

“Emmeline!” George snapped, “What the devil are you doing out here? Are you trying to catch the death of cold? The night is freezing.”

“That might be a more merciful death than living with this heartbreak,” Emmeline said bleakly. 

George backpedaled at the sound of her glum tone and reached out for his sister. Pulling her into his arm, Emmeline pressed herself into her brother’s chest and breathed in the faint scent of the starch used on his clothes.

“Heartbreak?” George asked. “Emmeline, Newberry's so-called love is nothing for you to be angry or depressed about. You're better off without him.”

“But my heart still pains,” Emmeline whispered, “I love him, George. But knowing that he is counted an enemy to us, he has set his sights on another. Whom I do not know, I only heard it by whispers.”

Braced on his chest, Emmeline didn’t see the happy look on her brother’s face at the announcement that his enemy had chosen another and had left his sister alone.

“Don't be glum, Emmeline,” George said reassuringly. “Even though I abhorred the very thought of you and him, I doubt he can find any better than you.”

Pulling away from him, she dabbed at her eyes, removing the tear stains and managed a wobbly smile.

“But there's not much I can do about it anymore. I'd best rejoin the assembly and try to be happy,” Emmeline sighed. “God help me in doing so.”

She left George stewing on the balcony and stepped into the warm room. Going further inside she saw Ann near the refreshment room and held up three fingers telling her to wait for three minutes. Ann nodded and patted her coiffed hair as she schooled her features into gaiety. 

After pouring herself a glass of water, Emmeline watched as Ann started to meander out to the balcony where George was still standing. Sneaking in close enough to overhear the conversation that would occur, Emmeline found a curtained alcove, slipped inside and trained her ears on the two.

“Your Grace,” exclaimed Ann, “what are you doing out here? Miss Harriet, your partner for this dance, is looking high and low for you. Or are you relinquishing your duty as the most eligible bachelor in the room?”

“Are you being impetuous, Miss Benwick?” George asked tightly, “or are you testing my patience?” 

“How do you mean?” Ann's voice was laden with innocence. “How can I test your patience, Your Grace? I only came here for a breath of fresh air.”

“Please don't play ignorant, Miss Benwick, it does not suit you.” George snapped, “I know you must have heard that Newberry has chosen another over my sister, evoking her heartbreak. I now have another reason to kill the louse.”

Ann sighed softly and went to the railing, “I do know…Your Grace. The matter is…the Duke of Newberry has set his intentions on me. I haven’t found a way to tell Emmeline yet for fear of losing her friendship.”

“The man is a scoundrel, from a family of heinous degenerates.” George sounded like he was chewing iron. “He's a knave, and a deceiver and his end will be so abhorrent that it will go down into the annals of history! Stay away from him!”

Ann's gasp was audible. “My good sir! I dare say I have never heard such hatred in my life… although I do admit that the Duke is a loose cannon, prone to spates of rashness.”

“My point exactly,” George grated.

“But,” Ann smiled softly, “I have to admit, his spice and spontaneity are more attractive than the bland conformity of most men here.”

“Because he is not like most men here,” George returned darkly. “Most men here do not come from the bowels of evil.”

Ann hummed, “Is this the argument you use to deter Emmeline from him? Your hatred for his family? Don't you think this tiff is a bit outdated? Or...is it something deeper? Is it a personal problem that you have against him, Your Grace?” 

George was suspiciously silent, but Ann wasn't. “So, it is something personal. What is it, Your Grace? What did he do? Did he steal something of yours? Did he–mmph!” 

Ann's voice was suddenly muffled, and with a jump of fright, Emmeline peeked out, only to slap her hand over her mouth. George's arm was around Ann's waist, and his hand was framing her face as he kissed her. And it wasn't a light kiss like the one she had shared with Noah. This kiss was deep, sultry, and utterly claiming. Her suspicions about her brother and Ann were suddenly proven correct. He did want her. 

She stood still as George broke the kiss. “You, Miss Benwick. It is you. I have always hated how you were a part of that man’s...entourage. I've been drawn to you for many years. I fought it, God knows I fought it, as you're my sister's best friend, but I cannot deny it anymore. I will do anything I can to remove you from Newberry’s grip. I will not let him have you.”

Ann pressed her gloved knuckles on George's face as she gazed into his eyes, dragging out the soft silence after the fervent declaration. “And I will break the courtship, only if you will consider making peace with the Newberrys, George. To be with me, will you allow Emmeline to be happy?”

A thick working of George's throat told the two ladies how difficult and painful coming to that decision was, but then George nodded, “If I can have you, Ann, over Newberry, I will do it. You have my w–”

It worked! God’s grace! Their ruse had worked! Emmeline was now happiest in her life as overjoyed tears started to bead behind her eyes.

“Have her over me?” Noah's confused voice rang through the air, cutting George’s word off at the quick. “What the deuce are you talking about, Leverton? I have no designs on Miss Benwick!”