They were all talking—voices rising and falling in endless, polite conversation—but Adrien heard none of it.
He was watching Eveline.
She had not spoken. She had not moved. Not even a small shift of her hands or a glance around the room. She sat exactly as she had been placed, still and perfect.
*She's like a doll,* he thought.
The thought unsettled him. A sudden urge rose in his chest, away from this place, away from this marriage.
.
So he formed a small plan.
"Your Grace," Adrien began carefully, bowing with practiced courtesy, "if it pleases you, I would like a few moments to speak with your daughter privately. Perhaps over coffee?"
Duchess Blackwell's fan snapped open with a sharp *click*. Her painted lips tightened.
"Privately?" she said coolly. "In public?" Her eyes narrowed. "What will people think of such impropriety?"
Adrien frowned slightly. "Impropriety? We are soon to be married, Your Grace. I hardly believe a conversation would inspire scandal."
"Young man," she replied sharply, "you do not understand how quickly gossip spreads among the nobility. One misplaced word, one careless smile—and my daughter's reputation could be stained before the vows are even spoken."
Before Adrien could answer, Duchess Howthrone spoke.
"My son is right," she said evenly. "We should allow them to speak. They need this."
Duchess Blackwell turned on her at once. "You are a woman, Duchess. Think of what this looks like."
*What an annoying woman,* Duchess Howthrone thought, though her smile remained pleasant.
"But Duchess Blackwell," she said aloud, "they are about to become a couple. A few words between them will change nothing."
Adrien hesitated, then tried again. "With respect, Duchess, Eveline and I will be husband and wife in a matter of days. Surely—"
"I said I do not trust you yet, Lord Howthrone," Duchess Blackwell interrupted firmly. "And until I do, my daughter will not be alone with any man. Not even her betrothed."
Eveline, seated quietly beside her mother, flushed deep red.
"Mother," she whispered. "Please. I'm sure Lord Adrien only wishes to talk."
Her mother's eyes flicked to her, sharp and warning. "Eveline."
She swallowed, then gathered her courage. Looking at Adrien, she offered a small, hopeful smile.
Duchess Blackwell stiffened. "No. I will not allow it."
"Then let them speak here," Duchess Howthrone said calmly. "Do not worry. I will hold them responsible if anything improper occurs—gossip included."
She inclined her head slightly. "This seems the more reasonable choice."
At last, Duchess Blackwell fell silent.
Eveline exhaled in quiet relief. "Thank you," she murmured to Adrien, glancing at him shyly. "My mother means well. She just… worries too much."
Adrien gave a low, noncommittal hum. "So I've noticed."