The next afternoon arrived far too quickly.
Aurelian spent the morning pretending not to be nervous.
He walked through the garden, checked on his horse in the townhouse stables, and played the harp for half an hour before realizing he had repeated the same melody six times.
Then he changed coats three times.
The first was too plain.
The second was too formal.
The third was deep red with gold embroidery along the cuffs.
It reminded him of home, which made him feel slightly less doomed.
By the time Lady Echo Sinclair arrived, Aurelian had convinced himself he could handle the meeting.
That confidence lasted until she entered the receiving room.
Lady Echo was not what he had expected.
He had imagined someone severe.
Perhaps an older woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper fan, prepared to strike his knuckles every time he selected the wrong fork.
Instead, she appeared close to his own age, slender and graceful, with sharp amber eyes and a short black bob arranged in soft waves around her face.
Her pale yellow gown was elegant without being excessive, and she carried herself with the ease of someone who had spent her entire life walking through rooms full of watching nobles.
She curtsied perfectly.
“Lord Bellafonte.”
Aurelian bowed.
Halfway down, he wondered whether he had gone too low.
Then whether he had not gone low enough.
He straightened and decided it was far too late to do anything about either possibility.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sinclair.”
“And you as well.”
His mother looked pleased.
His father looked cautiously hopeful.
Aurelian felt like a man meeting an executioner with excellent manners.
After the introductions, tea was served.
His parents remained only long enough to exchange several polite remarks before excusing themselves with suspicious convenience.
Aurelian watched them leave.
Betrayal.
Loving betrayal.
The door closed.
Lady Echo lifted her teacup with practiced elegance.
Aurelian lifted his own.
Then wondered whether he was holding it incorrectly.
He slowly set it back down.
Echo watched him over the rim of her cup before setting hers down as well.
“Your parents explained the situation to me.”
“I apologize.”
She blinked.
“For what?”
“For whatever trouble this may cause you.”
For a moment, Echo simply looked at him.
Then she smiled.
It was small, but it softened her entire face.
“That is not usually how noblemen respond when offered help.”
“How do they usually respond?”
“They pretend they do not need it.”
Aurelian considered that.
“I thought about doing that.”
“And?”
“I decided it would be unwise to begin our acquaintance with a lie.”
Her smile grew.
“That is refreshing.”
Aurelian relaxed slightly.
“Your parents said you were raised primarily in Bellafonte.”
“Yes.”
“And that you have little experience with Evelina society.”
“This is my first time in the capital.”
Something changed in her expression.
Only slightly.
“I see.”
Aurelian did not like the way she said that.
Echo leaned forward.
“Then perhaps I should determine exactly where we are beginning.”
“That sounds ominous.”
She ignored him.
“Have you ever attended a royal ball?”
“No.”
“A noble banquet?”
“No.”
“A formal tea?”
“No.”
Echo’s expression began to change.
“A diplomatic reception?”
Aurelian brightened.
“I have greeted merchants from the eastern coast during harvest season.”
Her stare did not move.
“That is not the same.”
His face fell.
“I suspected it was not.”
Echo studied him.
Aurelian shifted in his chair.
“To be fair, I have attended local festivals.”
Her stare deepened.
“There was dancing,” he offered.
“What kind of dancing?”
“The kind where everyone knows the steps because their grandmother taught them.”
Echo briefly looked toward the ceiling.
Then back at him.
“Lord Bellafonte.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know how to properly escort a lady into a ballroom?”
Aurelian hesitated.
“I offer my arm?”
“And?”
“There is more?”
She inhaled slowly.
Aurelian became increasingly concerned.
“Do you know how to identify rank by introduction order?”
He stared at her.
“By what?”
Echo went very still.
Then she placed one hand against her forehead.
“Oh dear.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It is.”
“How bad?”
Lady Echo Sinclair looked at him with the grave expression of a physician preparing to deliver terrible news.
“Lord Bellafonte, you are going to be eaten alive.”
Aurelian looked down at the untouched tea between them.
Three days.
Three days until the welcoming tea, where he would be surrounded by people who had spent their entire lives learning rules he had never been taught.
For the first time since entering Evelina, Aurelian wondered if escaping through the carriage door might have been the wiser decision.