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Eliza scarcely knew where to look. She remained on Arthur's arm, offering a warm smile to anyone who met her gaze, yet no one approached them. When she looked up at the Duke, his attention was no longer on her. He was scanning the crowd, searching for someone or something; his efforts were interrupted when a lean lady with the same colouring and eyes as her new husband appeared before them, dressed in the most sophisticated flowing pink gown.

"Your Grace, I have been so eager to meet you. I am the Dowager Duchess of Buckingham, the Duke's mother."

Eliza's face lit up. This was her mother-in-law! She would never have imagined that the first time she met her mother-in-law it would be at a ball. Before she had time to doubt herself, she excitedly slipped her arm from Arthur's and stepped forwards, placing both hands gently upon the Dowager Duchess's shoulders.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you. If I may be so bold, I understand I have you to thank for the efforts behind the ceremony and this evening's proceedings. You have done a wonderful job," she did not share the Duke's blatant disdain for his mother's enthusiasm and would do all she could to conceal Arthur's open disapproval. Eliza noticed the Dowager looked a little startled, as did a couple of nearby guests, though they kept their chatter low and feigned that they were not looking in her direction.

With a sheepish smile, Eliza released her hands from the Dowager's shoulders, but her gaze did not move.

"Thank you, my dear. You appear to be an exquisite young lady, I must say. I look forward to having the opportunity to become better acquainted with you. In fact, I have decided to stay for a few days here at Winworth after the celebrations so that we can make time," her mother-in-law said. Eliza recognised the familiar authority in her tone at once. If there had been little physical resemblance between mother and son, there was certainly no mistaking it in their voices.

The news of the Dowager's stay filled her with joy. She yearned so desperately to learn more about her role as a Duchess, and what better person to learn from than the preceding Duchess of Buckingham?

She noticed Arthur cleared his throat, and he wore an identical expression to the one he wore that morning in the chapel.

"And do pray tell, Mother, when were you going to inform me of this?" he admonished.

It was clear he did not want his mother as a house guest, and she noticed that most of the evening's guests kept a respectful distance despite their obvious fascination. She had no doubt that, if Arthur so much as cast his scowl in any guest's direction, they would flee without hesitation.

Still, she could not have her husband scaring away her only lifeline to Duchesshood. Panic tightened in the pit of her stomach at the thought.

"Well, I made the decision about two moments ago," the Dowager said calmly, "consider yourself informed," the woman concluded.

"I am—no, we are," Eliza emphasised, "honoured to have you."

"Why thank you, my dear. I look forward to it." The Dowager gave her son a pointed smile before excusing herself and walking away, looking rather triumphant.

That had gone rather well, she thought. Her first encounter with high society had resulted in a house guest. How hard could this Duchess thing be?

Arthur's hand settled lightly against the small of her back. Firm and steady, yet it startled her. Another unexpected shiver coursed through her at the contact. She blamed her exhaustion. She had been awake since dawn and had scarcely eaten; it could not possibly be anything else. And yet, the warmth of his hand felt strangely soothing. As though he could read her thoughts, Arthur spoke quietly.

"You have not eaten," he said. She was not sure whether it was a question or a statement, so she paused, blinking as she considered his words.

“No…” Eliza admitted.

In response, her husband disappeared without a word. She watched the guests step aside for Arthur as he made his way across the ballroom, leaving her standing alone in the centre of the room.

Well then.

What was she to do now? Had he gone to dismiss a servant over the lack of food on display? She made a mental note to check in with Mrs Clapton about the number of staff still employed tomorrow.

Drawing another deep breath, Eliza squared her shoulders, attempting to face the new world into which she had thrust herself. But as she stepped forward to introduce herself to guests, the same gentleman who had shown her kindness while standing at Arthur's side in the church appeared before her and bowed.

"Your Grace, my name is Lord Benedict Laurence, friend, though he may not say as such, and confidant to the Duke of Buckingham." He had a twinkle in his eye that made her feel instantly safe. This time, though, she did not embrace a stranger. Instead, she smiled warmly and shook his hand.

"I remember you. It is lovely to be officially acquainted."

"Am I memorable? What a compliment from our new Duchess."

She chuckled softly and said honestly, "You were the first kind face I saw in the church." This time she was rewarded with a genuine smile, one that met the small crinkles around his eyes. She could already tell he was a kind man.

"Thank you for that, by the way," she added.

"You are most welcome. How are you finding your first ball?"

"Is it that obvious?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, no," he replied quickly. "Not at all. You're doing remarkably well, considering you're on display for the whole county to see for the very first time."