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“Miss Sterling, it is a pleasure to see you again. I hope it is not forward of me to say how you have been in my thoughts since we danced together. You showed unparalleled grace.”

“You flatter me with your compliments, Sir,” Clara said, gesturing for him to sit down. Alfred remained near the door. Lionel pushed back the tail of his jacket and sat with an upright back, his hands steepled together.

“And you flatter me by accepting me into your home. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time, but I hoped that you would grant me the opportunity of getting to know you a little better.”

“I see no harm in that,” Clara replied.

Lionel asked her questions about her family, her past, and her current interests. He was a pleasant gentleman and possessed a jovial sense of humor, but Clara couldn’t stop comparing him to Gerald. Lionel’s face was a little softer, his shoulders a little rounder. His humor was gentle and welcoming rather than teasing and subtle, as Gerald’s could be. When their eyes met, she did not see the same kind of fire that existed in Gerald’s gaze.

Guilt lined her heart. She believed that everyone should be judged on their own merits, and yet here she was, judging a perfectly acceptable young man inferior based on nothing but shallow considerations.

Was this going to be the way of things for the rest of her life?

Would men always fail to measure up to her phantom suitor?

Even after their ruse had long been abolished, would she pretend that she was still locked in a courtship?

While marriage was not a priority, she was not willing to dismiss the possibility entirely, should the right man reveal himself to her. Lionel certainly seemed earnest, and she felt she ought to feel flattered that he was paying her this attention.

When conversation turned to the orphanage, Clara mentioned how Gerald, although in conversation she referred to him as the Duke of Clemont, was helping with repairs as he owns the lease.

“I see, is that how you made his acquaintance?” Lionel asked.

“It is,” Clara said, pausing a little, feeling that it wasn’t enough of a lie to be guilty about.

“I can see I have owned the wrong properties then,” Lionel said with a smile. Then he paused and cocked his head. “I would like to venture something, Miss Sterling. I certainly hope I am not broaching the boundaries of propriety, and if you take offence, do not hesitate to tell me at once, and I will show myself out as a disgraced individual, but might I inquire as to whether the good Duke has made a proposal for your hand?”

“He has not,” Clara replied. Her throat tightened, and it felt as though her tongue had swollen to twice its size. Lionel looked relieved.

“In that case, might I-”

Before he could ask the question, the butler announced that Gerald had arrived. He came striding into the room, greeting Alfred with a firm handshake. The wide smile fell from his face as soon as he laid eyes on Lionel. Lionel and Clara both rose from their seats.

“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I’m Sir Lionel Mercer; you may remember me from the recent dance, where we shared the pleasure of Miss Sterling’s company.”

“Yes, I remember. It’s good to see you again,” Gerald said in a forced tone. His jaw was clenched, and everything was rigid. A heavy glare fell upon Clara. “I wasn’t aware you were expecting another caller today,” he said.

Alfred chuckled and came to stand beside Gerald, patting his back.

“I’m sure we can all handle this like gentlemen. There’s no need for any animosity. Clara isn’t married yet, after all,” Alfred said, his keen eyes staring at Gerald. It was then that Clara realized what Alfred intended. He hoped that by inviting Lionel in, it would expedite a proposal from Gerald. Sadly, he had no idea that his plan was doomed to fail.

Clara studied Gerald’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. She saw nothing. There was only a placid mask, as though he was a still lake that no wind could disturb.

“I do not wish to cause any offense, of course,” Lionel said smoothly. “But there is a public lecture next week focusing on the architecture of cathedrals. I hoped you might find it fascinating, and wondered if you would deign to join me.”

Clara opened her mouth to reply, but Gerald beat her to it.

“On which day is this occurring?” he asked.

Lionel slowly turned his head. “Wednesday,” he replied, a thin smile upon his face.

“Ah, I’m afraid Miss Sterling is already engaged. We have been invited to a garden party.”

“Is that so?” Lionel said.

Clara angled her head towards Gerald. “I do not remember you mentioning this to me.”

“Nevertheless, we are expected.”