“My dear, you have such shadows under your eyes!” exclaimed Lady Alford, the next morning. “Have you not slept at all?”

Emmeline suppressed a yawn. “Not enough.”

Lady Alford made a tutting sound. Her husband was present for breakfast that morning, having arrived from his country home in Suffolk. He wore his gold-framed spectacles as he read the freshly-pressed newspaper.

“Good gracious, Catherine! Have you heard about this upsetting tale involving the Duke of Newberry?” Lord Alford said.

Emmeline nearly choked on a piece of bread and Ann patted her back sympathetically.

“What tale, my dear?” Lady Alford demanded.

Lord Alford explained the situation to her. “Terrible news this is, and the Duke’s name in the midst of this all. Such a respectable family. The Dowager Duchess will not be pleased with the mention of her grandson’s name.”

Lady Alford gasped dramatically. “Charles, did I tell you about the ride in the Duke’s phaeton?”

“Whatever are you saying, my dear? I cannot imagine you in a phaeton!” Lord Alford exclaimed.

Emmeline watched as her uncle’s large white mustache bristled in alarm as her Aunt relayed the story.

“I cannot think that the lad fought a duel because that gentleman disrespected you, Catherine,” Lord Alford declared while shaking the paper. “There is a rivalry between Newberry and the St. Maurs. Lady Victoria Fitzroy died while running away with St. Maur’s youngest brother, and the eldest was convinced that the Duke of Newberry is to be held accountable. Pure nonsense to me.”

“Is there is any sense between the Levertons and Newberrys?” remarked Emmeline sourly. “Newberry seems to accumulate a lot of enemies.”

Lord Alford winced. “My dear, I knew the lad’s father, Winston. He was my good friend. There have been many misunderstandings between your family and his. Noah has turned out to be a good gentleman. He is honorable and respectable. This news will make no difference on his reputation, for people of such titles are usually linked with nonsense such as this.”

“Her brother despises him, though,” remarked Ann.

“George has been taught to carry on the feud at your grandfather’s knee. You were young when he passed away Emmeline, or you would have felt the same,” Lord Alford told Emmeline.

“I still believe you should now steer far from him, Emmeline,” Lady Alford said abruptly. “I did not like the animal-like anger in the Duke’s gaze when he argued with that gentleman so aggressively. I was beginning to fear for our safety!”

“Do not be so absurd, Catherine,” Lord Alford said impatiently. “I know the lad well, and he would not have let any harm come to you. In fact, he is a good match for our Emmeline.”

Lady Alford was disgruntled. “Well, he is not in London anymore.”

Birds sang at a colorful dawn that weekend, fluttering in the sky painted with pink, orange and yellow. A glowing ball of orange, the sun began rising behind a row of houses facing the west.

The Alford household was up and about. The servants chattered sleepily amongst themselves as they loaded various trunks and baggage into the carriages. The young ladies, tired from the night before, yawned as they climbed onto the velvet-covered cushions of the carriage. It was the custom of peers to sleep at dawn and awake in the afternoon during the season.

Emmeline suppressed a yawn behind her glove, as Ann’s head slumped on her shoulder. Lady Alford looked murderously at her husband for not leaving the previous evening as she had suggested. At last the group–George, the Duke of Leverton, Owen Benwick, Lord and Lady Alford, Emmeline and Ann were set to leave for the Bexley mansion in Winchester.

The ride was mostly pleasant, except for Ann’s motion sickness and Lady Alford’s periodic fear of crashing. So weary was Lord Alford of their conditions, that he traveled the rest of the journey seated beside Walker, the coachman.

Emmeline noticed how concerned George was of Ann’s pallor, asking her if she needed a vinaigrette.

“Your Grace, I have never used a vinaigrette in my life, nor have I fainted,” Ann laughed weakly. “It is a cumbersome affliction, surely, but it passes in an hour or so.”

Emmeline hid a smile–her best friend and her brother seemed to be getting along after their dance at the ball. Lady Alford had given her a transparent wink, which fortunately was not seen by either George or Ann. Owen, though, had noticed it, before giving the couple a contemplative glance.

“Lady Emmeline, do not read in such weak light!” scolded Lady Alford. “Your eyes will suffer. Whatever is the matter with you? You have been out of sorts for days.”

“I have not been, Aunt, do stop fussing.” Emmeline was disgruntled.

In truth, a dark mood had settled over her after the Duke of Newberry’s departure from London one week ago. Emmeline had tried to call off for many of the balls, morning calls, evening walks, outings to the opera and circus, but, unfortunately, she was forced to attend. She had grown spiritless to the whole thing and felt aversion to the men who called upon her.

Emmeline sorely missed the Duke’s company. Intrigue and mystique surrounded the gentleman akin to a cloak, and she found herself drawn to him. Ann gave her a pitying look. Her friend had tried to lighten her spirits, but nothing had pulled her out of the strange depression.

Emmeline reckoned that it had to do with the slim chance of her ever wedding the Duke. George had made his sentiments about the match very eloquent in the previous week, using the rumors about the Duke of Newberry’s involvement in the murder of St. Maur as an attempt to deter her. To her dismay, Aunt Catherine–who had been the Duke’s champion–had begun agreeing with her brother, instead of taking her side.

In all of it, Emmeline was getting more and more cross. Every time they spoke his name, they were only subjecting the Duke to foolish conjecture and disparaging his name on rumors. They did not know him. Sadly, she didn’t know him all that well either, as the few encounters they had–though titillating–had not given her a chance to delve into his mind.

Staring at the cover of her book, Emmeline wondered what she would do, if the Duke ever asked her to marry him.

Would I say yes and forgo my family, or will I say no and forgo any chance of my happiness?