Page 12 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

As the afternoon wore on, the anticipation of Ewan’s arrival began to weigh on her. Agnes knew her mother had set her sights on the Earl of Egerton as the ideal suitor, and she was expected to play her part in the charade. Duty and societal expectations demanded it.

Finally, the Earl of Egerton arrived, and Agnes felt her mother’s excitement in the air. Mary immediately went to greet him, welcoming him with a warm smile and gracious words. Agnes had no particular interest in Ewan, but she knew her mother’s intentions. She couldn’t afford to show any sign of disinterest, so she put on a polite smile and greeted him as he approached.

“Good afternoon, My Lord,” Agnes said, her tone pleasant, though her heart wasn’t fully in it.

“Good afternoon, Miss Agnes,” Ewan replied, his voice warm and friendly. He extended his hand, and she placed her own in his, allowing him to give it a gentle kiss.

Agnes’s mother, always keen on playing her part, excused herself, leaving Agnes alone with Ewan. The Earl of Egerton turned his attention to her, eager to strike up a conversation. Agnes knew it was her duty to engage with him, to appear interested in what he had to say.

Ewan’s smile was amiable as they exchanged pleasantries, but as the conversation progressed, Agnes began to realize that the Earl of Egerton had little interest in her or what she had to say. It was clear that he was more interested in talking about himself and his accomplishments.

Agnes had learned over the years to navigate such conversations with grace, even if they left her feeling unfulfilled. She listened attentively, nodding when required, and offering polite responses when prompted. She allowed him to share his anecdotes and achievements, interjecting with the occasional compliment or praise to keep the conversation flowing smoothly.

Ewan spoke at length about his family’s estates, the various social events he had attended, and his accomplishments in the world of politics.

Ewan’s voice droned on, a ceaseless monologue that seemed to have no end. “You see, Miss Agnes, the estate in Yorkshire boasts the most exquisite gardens. The horticulturist we’ve hired has managed to cultivate rare orchids that rival those in the Royal Gardens.”

Agnes nodded politely, her mind wandering to the upcoming event and the chance encounter with Matthew. She sighed inwardly, yearning for the passion she had shared with him or at least just to see him again.

Ewan continued, detailing the various social events he had attended with an exhaustive account of the guest list and their pedigrees. “And, of course, my political endeavors have been nothing short of exemplary. I’ve gained the support of influential figures, paving the way for a promising future.”

Agnes mustered a smile, masking her true feelings beneath a facade of politeness. She interjected, attempting to steer the conversation away from Ewan’s self-praise, “That sounds truly impressive, My Lord. Tell me, have you had the pleasure of visiting Cornwall? It’s a place of breathtaking beauty, don’t you think?”

Ewan, however, was undeterred. “Ah, the Lake District is indeed charming, which makes me think of the new residence I just acquired.”

Agnes sighed inwardly, her longing for the excitement of a connection like the one with Matthew intensifying. She listened to Ewan’s plans, the words blending into an indistinct murmur.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ewan’s relentless discourse concluded. “I believe our union would be mutually beneficial, Miss Agnes. With our combined status and resources, we could wield significant influence in both social and political circles.”

Agnes, forcing another polite smile, expressed her gratitude for Ewan’s visit. She knew her mother would expect her to be gracious and accommodating, but her heart ached for something more.

As the Earl of Egerton bid her farewell and left the room, Agnes couldn’t help but wonder if there was anyone who could match the intensity of her encounter with the enigmatic Duke of Huntington. The suitors came and went, but her heart remained somewhere.

Agnes finally found herself alone with her thoughts. She relished the brief moment of solitude, but it was short-lived. Just as she was about to escape to her private sanctuary, her mother’s voice called out, pulling her back to reality.

“Agnes, dear,” her mother beckoned from the drawing room. “I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you.”

Agnes sighed inwardly, her heart sinking at the prospect of another conversation about potential suitors. The desire to be alone with her thoughts and, perhaps, her memories of the Duke of Huntington was strong. Nevertheless, duty called, and she reluctantly made her way to the drawing room.

Taking a seat, Agnes summoned one of the servants and ordered refreshments. She couldn’t deny the sudden pang of hunger that had gripped her after a long day of conversing with a procession of suitors. It was her way of asserting some semblance of control in a world where her choices seemed increasingly limited.

As the servant busied himself with her request, Agnes turned her attention to her mother, who sat regally in the elegant drawing room. She couldn’t help but wonder what matter of “great importance” had prompted this summons.

“Mother, you wished to speak with me?” Agnes inquired, trying to keep the impatience from her voice.

Mary Pilton regarded her daughter with a hint of somberness. “Agnes, my dear, I know that this Season has brought a multitude of suitors to our door. The ton is buzzing with speculation about your future.”

Agnes merely nodded, her thoughts drifting once again to the enigmatic Duke of Huntington.

Her mother continued, her words carrying a weight of expectation, “I want what’s best for you, Agnes. I’ve always dreamed of seeing you happily married, settled with a loving husband who will provide for you. You deserve nothing but the best, my dear. I’ve made careful observations of the gentlemen who’ve come to court you, and one stands out.”

Agnes raised an eyebrow.

Mary leaned in slightly as if sharing a cherished secret. “The Earl of Egerton is a man of distinction and honor. He has wealth, power, and influence—everything one could desire in a match. You must consider him seriously, Agnes.”

Agnes took a sip of her lemonade, a pensive look in her eyes. She had expected this, of course, but the words weighed heavily on her heart. Her mother’s intentions were nothing but the best, but they felt stifling.

“I understand your concern for my future, Mother, and I appreciate your intentions,” Agnes replied with measured words. “But you must also understand that my heart is a factor in this equation. It cannot be ignored.”

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