The days flew by quickly in preparation for her debut.

Upon arriving, and at the behest of Lady Huntington's presence, there had been more than five major affairs—all of which they all declined so that they may prepare Lady Sarah Jane better. Another lesson here, another instruction of becoming mannerly and elegant there—Lady Sarah Jane had been admonished, critiqued, and berated daily.

If she had known that a Season was going to be this tedious, she might have just allowed herself to marry any country gentleman instead.

Society gossips had already begun speculating that Lady Huntington was sponsoring a young debutante with Lady Killsworth whose charm, talent and grace were undeniable, as a companion no less!

Killsworth hadn't liked the idea of appearing in society for several reasons. One, his scandal may or may not have blown over, and he wished not to investigate further lest he opens a discussion about it. Second, he was always hounded by society mamas looking for a match for their eager young daughters, and he was not in the mood for petty dances and talks of the weather, among other frivolities.

It was very curious that although society had not made him forget about his past, they seemed determined to put those thoughts at bay if only to secure a good marriage with a titled gentleman. Widows and married women alike seem not to care at all, sending him flirtatious invitations to their bed as soon as he arrived in town.

Most of all, he feared that society might not have a short memory after all. His blackened reputation as the most blackguard of rakes would not do Lady Sarah Jane any good, and therefore would result in him having to marry her.

The former he could very well tolerate, but the latter was something he refused to even think about.

Lady Huntington's visits became precariously incessant after she decided to take Lady Sarah Jane's debut as her pet project. Lady Killsworth did not dare argue with the old lady's persistence since she had appreciated as much freely offered help as she could get. Most of the days, the lessons began to tire Lady Sarah Jane, and it damplened her confidence as much as it did her spirit. Her insecurities folded twice over as she was told of the many things she could not do and did not possess.

"One which will always be de Rigeur," Lady Killsworth said one evening, "is a young woman as you are, in possession of a handsome dowry or no, must possess the comportment of a lady with the highest breeding. So far as to even be assume that you are actually in the highest position in society. Your grace and talent for conversation shall bring birds to weep upon your entrance. That, my dear, is the very secret in being the diamond of the first water."

"Hmmph!" Lady Huntington scoffed, "the diamond, eh? To think of such is absolute foolishness! Is her hair blonde? Her skin is pasty with red swatches and sports a mouth too wide." She pointed at Sarah Jane's cheeks. "Do not allow the girl to have any illusions of where she's at, my dear. Better know her place and play her cards right."

Sarah Jane bit her lip helplessly as the maids flanked both her wings. They were walking with her in case the books she was balancing on her arms would fall.

"Walk not wider than a foot," Lady Killsworth instructed while she balanced the books herself and walked in front of Sarah Jane. "See this space, my dear? Do not stretch your stride, only lift your boot a foot from the other. You'll appear to be floating if your dress drags on the floor." She tapped her hips lightly while in motion. "Don't forget a gentle sway."

Not minding the lesson, Lady Huntington continued, "But you, well Caroline, I remember your debut very well. Peers were ogling. The ton was abuzz, they said you could have ambitioned royalty!"

Blushing, Lady Killsworth accepted the compliment with a grateful smile and continued with the walk around the room. "Chin up!" She reminded the young lady.

"But you married a mere viscount." The dowager muttered, disappointed.

Lady Killsworth eyed Lady Huntington upon hearing that comment. She should have been offended, but Lady Huntington had already become dear to her. "If you must know, I chose Killsworth because I fell madly in love."

"With his pocket?" Lady Huntington quipped, hoping there was a logical bone in the romantic woman's body.

"Of course not!" Lady Killsworth protested. "I have loved the man for his charms. He always strived to make me laugh, and I decided that a marriage with him would be a delightful union."

She brought Lady Sarah Jane's arms higher since they were drooping down and in danger of allowing the books to slide down.

"As for you, you have married a man you loved as well, my Lady." The statement clearly directed at the disappointed lady.

Lady Huntington lowered her eyes, trying to hide the betray of emotion for her late husband. "As a lady of gentle breeding loves a peer for the deepness of his pocket, and richness of his heritage—I can assure you, I had used my mind in choosing him. None of this heart nonsense."

Lady Killsworth hid a smile as she exchanged a knowing look with Sarah Jane. She giggled, causing all the books to slide off. She picked them up quickly and replaced them on her arms.

If she didn't have "the look", then by god she will make up for it in any means necessary.

"Well, what color is that hair anyway?" Lady Huntington pressed, eyeing her speculatively.

"I haven't a clue, my lady." A book dangerously tipped towards the right and she moved her arm slightly higher to counter the fall.

"I daresay it changes color with the sun."

Thumping her cane with a bark of laughter. "Well don't you start envying blondes with rosebud mouths, I say! All of them lack a whit of sense. You have more than half a brain between your shoulders, and that, my dear, fairs far better with titled men of impeccable sense."

Sarah Jane dropped the book, startled by Lady Huntington's compliment.

Another bark of laughter. "Yes you do have a striking tongue, but your grace is no better than a cow!"

One of the maids picked the book up and gently placed it back on her arm. Dutifully, they took another turn around the room.

Within a week of more lessons, Lady Huntington decided that it was time to throw Sarah Jane to the wolves. "There is nothing better than experience," she would say almost as many times as she comments on Sarah Jane's plumpness.

By February, barely a few months left to secure herself a husband, Lady Huntington sent a massive number of invitations to both eligible men and ladies alike. A few friends of the peerage, albeit married, were also invited to make her debut less obvious.

The Huntington's large London Manor would be filled with elegant fixtures and decorations, the grand ballroom smelling of scented candles as it would be enchanted with wonderful melodies from a hired band from Germany. The promise of an exciting crush had Sarah Jane reeling, but she longed to have a friend to share her excitement with.

"How are you?" Killsworth asked her one day as he entered the breakfast hall.

Sarah Jane stopped, surprised that he had joined her at breakfast. She missed how he used to always be with her, conversing with her and sharing her meals. It had been a fortnight since she has last seen him, and he looked weary. "Are you all right, my lord?"

He looked surprised at her question, and he stopped by a looking glass to inspect his appearance. Aside from the growing circles around his eyes, he didn't seem to not be in rights. "I am quite well, thank you. I am interested to know how you are. How are your lessons?"

"Tedious, as they are every day," she said, looking down at the coddled eggs on her plate. She glanced back at Killsworth who was still eyeing the breakfast spread while he rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

He smiled at her then, and collected a plate. "You will do well to remember that you requested... No, you demanded this from me."

"I did." She sighed. "It will be worth it, don't you think? When I finally find a husband who will take care of me, and I of him."

His hand paused as he collected meat. She sounded so hopeful and wistful, and heaven help him, but it piqued his curiosity to no end.

What was she thinking? What was she feeling? Why did she want this so badly? He continued to collect his food and then took a seat near her.

"Do tell, why are you eager for a husband? One-and-twenty isn't so much a spinster that you can afford to wait a year or more." Well, the last one was a stretch, but he had heard many ladies who married well past 21.

"Why do you ask, my lord?" She looked at him, the question apparent in her face. "Don't all ladies want one?"

"That is the assumption," he agreed, not quite believing that she was as shallow as she wanted him to think. "Is that what you want? To be like the other ladies?"

He seemed to strike a nerve, and she stilled, the breath leaving her body. Killsworth dropped his gaze to his food, expecting her to not answer his question as he began picking on his food.

"I am not acquainted with many ladies, and of the few that I've met and grown to admire, I couldn't help but find myself wanting to be like them," she said so softly that if Killsworth hadn't been looking at her, he would think that she would have been talking to herself.

"And they're all married?" He inquired casually, breaking a scone with his fingers, grateful for the company this morning.

She nodded ruefully. "I've never really been like them," she concluded, going back to her coddled eggs, spreading them in her plate before taking a forkful.

Killsworth regarded her with equal parts of open curiosity and admiration. Young ladies would never admit to their own failings, and they pretend to know everything there was to know, especially when they didn't.

He thought that maybe, Sarah Jane had something more than a whit of sense that Lady Huntington loved to describe her with.

"I think marrying will give me more freedom," she said after a while, spinning her tea in an endless whirlpool as her mind imagined her future.

What an odd notion, that. Men, including himself, had always thought of marriage as an ultimate limitation to their freedom and all for naught, really. "If you were on the shelf, you will have significantly more freedom."

A line formed in between her brows, quietly informing Anthony that she did not understand, or if she did, she did not agree with him.

"You will not need a chaperone to roam the streets. You won't be the topic of gossip columns, and you will and may eat, do, and act as you please."

"Yes, but I will be alone."

They stopped then, both staring at their plates, not really sure how their conversation had taken such a maudlin turn at so early in the morning. Their hands released the utensils and rested placidly on the table, emotions wreaking havoc in their chests, as their minds battled for some sanctuary to hide in.

Anthony understood her now, and he understood her more than she would know. Sarah Jane was orphaned at an early age and had been at the mercy of granduncles for most of the years she has been living. A solitary life in old age would not be a dream, it would be a realization of hell.

He had experienced the dullness and piercing ache of being alone for only more than a year, and already he had yearned to be back with his mother—to anyone who had a care enough for him just so that he remembered his worth on earth. Without the knowledge that somewhere, someone was waiting for him, cheering for him; he would have wasted away in mere weeks.

"Do you know what I think," he opened, drawing her gaze back to him as he dropped a hand on her resting hand, his fingers warmly resting on the back of her ungloved hand. "I think, you are perfectly desirable on your own doing, singular as you might be." He smiled encouragingly. "I've enjoyed your company, including your opinions, more than any lady I've acquainted myself with, and I've been acquainted with many ladies."

She blushed red, a deep rosy color that could not be hidden from his stark cobalt blue eyes. He was looking at her differently, almost tenderly, and she realized that Anthony and she had formed a lasting friendship from their recent interactions together.

She looked at him then, fully cataloging his features while she struggled to find his thoughts and emotions. Ever since their arrival in London, they had talked no more than a few minutes together. He was busy with letters and his stewardship, and she was entirely preoccupied with her lessons.

Sarah Jane missed him.

He never once kissed her in London, and as the breathing room between them had increased, she was also beginning to miss his proximity.

Her cheeks flushed deeper at the realization.

Chuckling lightly, Anthony withdrew his hand and brought his attention back to his plate. "Come, let us forget this maudlin discussion, and eat. I've embarrassed you."

She couldn't bring herself to finish her food. His words had already left her full.

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A/N: edited May 17, 2020. Their conversation never fails to make me smile! I think this is one of my more favorite chapters as we see both of their characters being revealed to the readers as they reveal themselves to each other too!

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