Once Brenna had stormed away from him, Sterling turned on his brother. Theodore was still writhing on the ground, holding his groin in pain. Sterling stomped up to him, grabbed him by his collar, and yanked him to his feet.

"What did you do?" He shouted. He was gripping his brother's collar in his hand. His face was only a few inches from his brother's. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear!"

His brother's eyes were wide in terror. He held his hands up in surrender. Sterling knew why. He had never felt so angry in his life, had never experienced such rage. He had never yelled at his brother before but, when Briar had told him what had happened, he had lost control.

"She said you touched her!" He shouted.

"Nowhere that counts, Sterling, I swear it. I may have come on a little strong but I didn't... I didn't force myself on her or anything."

"Because she took you down before you could!" He shoved his brother away from him, so livid he couldn't see straight. He placed away from him, running a hand through his hair, trying in vain to calm himself down. It wasn't working. He needed to get away from his brother before he did something he truly regretted. He turned to leave but then stopped and turned around, getting back into his brother's face one last time to say. "If I ever see you near her again, you'll have worse than a kneed groin."

Then he turned and headed back for the estate.

"She's a bloody servant, Sterling!" His brother called after him after a moment. Sterling just clutched a fist and kept walking, needing to get away, afraid of what he would do if he turned back.

Sterling burst through the front doors and into the foyer a bit harder than he intended in his agitated state. His sister and the Duchess, who had been sitting in the foyer, jumped up at his entrance.

"I'm going to my study," he barked. "No one will disturb me."

Then he crossed the foyer and took the stairs two at a time, leaving the stunned women in his wake. He was still breathing hard when he reached his study and locked the door behind him. He crossed to the window and looked out at the grounds on the opposite side of the estate in an effort to calm himself. No such luck. He punched the cement sill that he was leaning on.

He couldn't remember a time that he had felt so angry. He had genuinely worried that he would physically harm his brother if he had been forced to endure his presence for even a second longer. Even now, away from him, he felt the urge to punch something, to shout his frustration. Instead, he settled for pacing, trying to burn off his anger as the burning of energy.

It worked, relatively, and his anger subsided somewhat. At least, it subsided enough for him to settle into his desk and try his best to get some work done. So he sat in his study, reading through long ignored correspondence as he did and drafting responses that he would send with Arthur in the morning. He had only been working perhaps an hour when there came a knock at his door.

"I believe I asked not to be disturbed," he called.

"You know more than anyone that I don't listen," a familiar voice called back. He stood from his desk and walked to the door, unlocking it to reveal the Duchess standing in the doorframe, hands on her hips. She strolled past him and into the study without a word and he closed the door behind her. He returned to his desk and continued with his letters. After a moment of being ignored, the Duchess sighed. "Theodore is very upset."

"Do not speak his name to me," Sterling growled.

The Duchess sat across from him, a strange look on her face, one he had never seen before.

"Sterling," she said, genuine surprise in her voice. "I've never seen you so angry."

He said nothing, only pressed his pen a bit harder into the paper he was writing on.

"What happened between you two?" She asked. "Theodo-"

He looked up at her, glaring, jaw clenched.

"He looked like he'd seen a ghost. He was so shaken up. He wouldn't tell us anything, just said that you were livid with him. I didn't believe it. I've never seen you livid with anyone, especially him. But... you really are angry, aren't you? I've never seen you in such a seething rage."

"Are you finished commenting on my anger?" Sterling snapped and the Duchess raised her brow.

"Snapping at me now, are we?"

"No," he took a breath, calming himself. "I'm sorry, Adelaide. You know I would never. I just... you're right. You've never seen me this angry because I've never been so angry."

He stood from his desk and went to the window, running a hand through his hair as he went.

"I should be angry," he told her. "Of course I should. Theodore's behavior was unacceptable. But why I'm this angry, I can't explain. I've been stewing in this room for hours and I'm still in a blinding rage. I've never... I don't know-"

He stopped and sighed, words having failed him. The Duchess stood from her chair and crossed the study to him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm and he felt some of the anger leave him.

"What happened?" She asked.

"I found him on the ground," he told her, exasperated. "Kneed in the groin by a girl he had made unwanted advances toward."

"I don't imagine it's the first time that's happened to him. Theodore isn't used to not getting what he wants."

Sterling nodded.

"She told me he touched her. I... I flew into a rage. I grabbed him, Adelaide, I shoved him and I... I threatened him," he confessed. The Duchess covered her mouth with a hand.

"That doesn't sound like you," she said, concerned.

"I know," he answered and plopped back down into his chair behind his desk. She watched him carefully and spoke to him gently.

"Of course, you were right to be upset. You've always been the gentleman, coming to the aid of the defenseless. Though, from the sound of it, this girl doesn't sound all that defenseless. But to be this angry... do you have any idea why you're so upset?"

He sighed.

"Unfortunately, I think I do."

He had been dancing around it for too long, avoiding it as a possibility. But his emotions were starting to overwhelm his logic and, if he denied it any longer, someone might get hurt, himself included. Though he knew that nothing could be done for it, he still felt that it might improve his mood to tell someone else and he trusted no one more than Adelaide.

"The girl he made advances upon," he began to a patiently waiting Adelaide. "I think I ... I think I have feelings for her."

Her reaction was not the one he expected. Rather than surprise, she simply smiled.

"Oh to be young and in love," she sighed.

"I'm not in love," he snapped. "That's ridiculous. I only- well, I care for the girl. She's been through a lot and we share similar interests and I suppose we have begun a sort of friendship. That's all it is. Friendship."

"Sure," she said. Her tone was placid enough but something about it seemed patronizing. He shook his head. "Who is this friend?"

He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands.

"She is just a friend," he told her, having not appreciated the way in which the Duchess spoke the word, as if she hadn't believed his assertion that there was nothing between them more than affability. "She isn't titled or rich. She is... unsuitable."

He hated the word and the way it made her sound like she was nothing to him. She wasn't nothing to him. She was indeed something to him. He just hadn't the faintest idea what that something was.

"I see."

Adelaide seemed to be lost in thought as she circled his desk slowly back to the seat in front of him. Neither of them spoke for some time, both of them focused entirely on the impossible problem in front of them. Sterling felt no closer to a solution than he had been before confiding in his cousin but a solution was not why he'd done it. It was simply a weight removed from him, a bit of knowledge that felt like a secret and the easiest way to remove the burden of a secret was to tell it to someone.

"You are the Lord of Northbrook," Adelaide told him, slowly. "No one ranks above you in these lands. If you wished to marry someone unsuitable, perhaps my husband would be willing to sign some papers and-"

"Marry?" he asked. "I told you she was a friend."

The Duchess sighed. "I'm not going to be able to help you if you keep lying to me, Sterling."

"Adelaide-"

Then the door to his study opened and his sister came striding in. He looked back at his cousin and she nodded in a way that assured him that she would not tell his secret.

"Cora," Sterling said in greeting. "I thought I asked not to be disturbed."

"Adelaide didn't heed your instructions," Cora said, gesturing toward the Duchess. "So I assumed they no longer applied. Besides, you have a visitor and I won't keep her waiting because you're in a mood."

"Who is it?"

"Miss Fontaine."

He sighed, throwing his head back in exasperation.

"God send me strength," he prayed aloud. The Duchess giggled.

"Sterling!" Cora scolded. "Don't be so ridiculous! Miss Fontaine is a beautiful woman with very solid ties to Balienese royalty. She is one of the richest women in Baliene and the most advantageous offer you have."

"She follows me about like a puppy."

"Well then," Cora said, turning on her heel for the door. "Pet her."

She slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Sterling turned back to the Duchess who was smiling with amusement. She stood from her seat and headed for the door as well.

"I suppose you have a visitor to attend to so I will leave you to it," she said. As she reached the door, she paused and turned back to face him. "If I'm to be saddled with the great burden of keeping this secret for you, I deserve to at least know who the girl is."

He sighed.

"Brenna," he told her. "The kitchen maid."

The Duchess raised an eyebrow and then suddenly, inexplicably, burst into the most raucous laughter that Sterling had ever heard from her. She was still laughing when she opened the door and walked out, leaving him alone in his study.

After a few moments of preparing himself for even more unpleasantness this afternoon, Sterling left his study and headed down the stairs. Cora and Miss Fontaine were standing in the parlor, talking quietly with one another. As he approached, they both smiled up at him. He forced a smile right back.

"Miss Fontaine," he said as he approached them. "Always lovely to see you."

"And you, my Lord," she said happily, gazing at him in that terrible way some women did, as if she were lost in a daydream and he was the subject of it. It made him feel uncomfortable to be idolized in such a way.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was hoping we could take a walk through the gardens."

He could only accept. He nodded and walked forward, holding out his arm for her to grasp onto as was customary. Just before they left the house, Cora gave him a look of warning, like a mother wordlessly reminding her child to behave. He rolled his eyes. He didn't appreciate being scolded by his younger sister.

He and Miss Fontaine walked through the doors and out onto the grounds. It was still a beautiful day outside, breezy and cool. He kept his gaze away from the stables and hoped he would not come into contact with his brother again. The very thought of seeing him made his blood boil in rage and he imagined coming to blows with Theodore in front of Miss Fontaine was not the sort of impression that Cora would be pleased about. As it happened, Theodore was no where in sight. Not many people were. A few stable boys ran to and from their duties and a couple of servants on their breaks strolled the grounds but, for the most part, Sterling and Miss Fontaine were alone.

They entered the gardens and she smiled brightly up at him. He smiled back and walked on. They wove through the rows of beautiful flowers but she did not seem very interested in the flora. She stared only at him. After a while, it began to make him uncomfortable. He cleared his throat then and decided he must say something or the silence would drive him mad.

"My sister says you have strong ties to Baliene," he said simply to fill the void. She smiled up at him.

"Indeed, I do," she told him. "My half sister is a cousin to Prince Lucien himself."

Sterling nodded. That wasn't as strong a tie as Cora had indicated.

"Do you go to Baliene often?" he asked.

"Hardly ever," she told him. "Father's business is importing the goods here. He has men who do his buying. He mostly just sells."

Sterling nodded. Suddenly, Miss Fontaine stopped walking, turned, and kissed him full on the lips. Stunned, he did not move for a moment. Then, he grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her away, not hard, not in a way that would have hurt her. Then he saw two things. The first was the confused look on Miss Fontaine's face and the second was the surprise on Brenna's who stood a few feet away behind her with a basket of herbs that she must have been selecting from the gardens for dinner. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her. Brenna simply turned and strode quickly away back toward the kitchens.

"Lord Huntington," Miss Fontaine said and he blinked, turning his attention back to her.

"Miss Fontaine," he said. "I- I wasn't expecting that."

"That was the idea," she said. "I thought men liked spontaneity."

"I suppose... some do. Miss Fontaine, I apologize, but I don't..."

"You pushed me away."

"Yes."

"Why?"

She placed a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes at him. He was reminded of Theodore, of a spoiled noble who wasn't used to being denied something they wanted. He realized then that what Miss Fontaine wanted was him. Rather it was for his money or his estate or perhaps she actually liked him, he did not know. But she was a spoiled rich girl who was reacting badly to someone having denied her the thing she wanted. And all he knew in that moment was that he never wanted to see her again.

"I don't think things are going to work between us," he told her. "I'm afraid I feel nothing for you, Miss Fontaine."

Her jaw tensed in anger. He knew the feeling well. Then, just as suddenly as the kiss, she raised her hand and slapped him right across the face. Then she lifted the hem of her dress from the ground and hurried off out of the gardens and back toward the carriage she had brought here. Sterling stood there for a moment, his cheek stinging, knowing she had left a mark. Perhaps he should have felt guilty. Rejecting a woman so flatly was uncouth. A proper gentleman would have been delighted for Miss Fontaine's attentions but, as he watched her disappearing around the corner to leave his estate for good, he felt nothing but relief.