“Do not think I am not angry with you,” the Viscount sneered. “I am, but I blame her because if she had guided you better, you would not be in this situation.”

Stella breezed into the dining room just then with a bright smile on her face and moved to take her seat to Eveline’s left.

“Good morning, Father,” she greeted seriously. Then, she turned to Eveline and smiled so brightly that Eveline wondered whether she couldn’t sense the mood in the room. “Oh, Evie, you must tell me about the ball last night.”

“Do you see how she has not only raised you to forget your sense of propriety? She has also raised this one to be slothful,” the Viscount spat, disappointed.

“Father, that is not fair,” Stella said with a pout. “I only came down for breakfast so late because Ava made me memorize our previous lessons. She is doing a fine job raising us.”

“And teaching you to talk back to your father is a fine job?”

Everyone fell silent, taking their chastisement in stride. Talking to their father would do them no good at a time like this. It was best to let him speak and then return to his study, where he would spend the rest of the day ignoring them.

“You had better hope he proposes, or you will have to go to Scotland and stay with your aunt.”

“Father, please. You cannot?—”

“I am sorry to interrupt breakfast, My Lord, but you have a visitor,” their butler, Gerald, announced, stepping into the room.

“And who would visit so early without an invitation?” the Viscount asked, disapproval heavy in his tone. “I certainly hope it’s not a beggar.”

“No, My Lord,” Gerald answered, shaking his head. “It is the Duke of Mayfield, My Lord.”

The Duke is here?

The Viscount’s eyebrows rose briefly, and he shot Eveline a look before clearing his throat and rising from his seat.

“Show him to my study at once,” he ordered.

“Yes, My Lord.”

Anticipation rose inside Eveline as she tried to imagine why the Duke was calling so early in the morning. Could he have come to propose?

Ava looked hopeful, while her father looked disdainfully at her.

“You better hope he has come to propose, or tomorrow you will be saying goodbye to England for good.”

With that final admonition, he stepped out of the room, looking anxious.

The Viscount might be used to putting on a façade for his daughters, but in the face of someone with a higher rank, he had to humble himself.

“Oh, thank the heavens!” Ava cried, taking their father’s seat so she could be closer to Eveline. “I told you he would come to propose.”

“You do not know that, Sister,” Eveline rebutted, not wanting to entertain the thought only to have her hopes dashed.

“Why do you refuse to think positively?” Stella asked.

“Because this is not a fantasy novel where I’m the protagonist who has a happily ever after with a man who loves me,” Eveline muttered, bowing her head. “The Duke is probably angered by all he has had to endure because of me—that is why he’s here. Even if he were to marry me, he would probably hate me for the rest of his life for forcing his hand. I cannot afford to harbor romantic notions only to have my heart broken.”

“We shall see, then,” Ava stated with a grim smile, “which one wins—the Duke’s honorable nature or your pessimism.”

“I suppose you already know why I am here, or at least you suspect the purpose of my visit,” William began, once the Viscount stepped into his study.

While he had been awaiting his arrival, he had looked around the room, noting the man’s fine taste in furniture and alcohol. It was odd being on this end of the table, but he did not let it show.

The Viscount was a large man, with chestnut-brown hair that was streaked with grey, showing his age. He looked intimidated and a far cry from what William had expected, considering how loud his voice had been when he had been scolding his daughters.

William frowned, knowing he had been right to come, to save Miss Eveline the torment his refusal to marry her would have caused.