I stared. It was all I could think to do in this situation. Surely I had heard wrong.

"I... Pardon?"

The Duke of Ashbury, Sebastian Wolverton, intertwined his fingers and set them over his crossed knee. "I'd like you to serve as my wife's lady-in-waiting," he repeated.

Never mind. I had heard correctly after all.

Realizing this didn't make it any easier to comprehend the words, unfortunately.

"But you don't even know me," I blurted out, then caught myself and added, "Your Grace."

He smiled. On someone else, it might have looked kind or reassuring, but it didn't reach his cobalt blue eyes. The smile was not fake, exactly. But it wasn't genuine either. "We may not have been introduced formally before yesterday, but I have heard a little of you, Lady Haywood. It has convinced me that this would be a beneficial arrangement for us both."

I cocked my head. "Beneficial? How?"

"One of the Duchess's ladies-in-waiting asked to resign from her duties a fortnight ago," Sebastian said. "She is in the family way; naturally, we wished her well and let her go."

She is in the family way. In other words, she was pregnant. Saying it that bluntly would have been too indecent, though. And for a nobleman to comment on a lady's body in such a manner? Perish the thought.

"My sister, Frederica, is head lady-in-waiting. She has been discreetly looking for someone to fill the position since then."

Okay. I hadn't known that. Cool.

None of that explained why he was reaching out to me, and in such a weird, secretive way at that. His head butler had waited until I was alone to inform me that His Grace wished to speak with me, refusing to explain further. Now here we sat in his private library, seated in plush armchairs across from one another. A fireplace crackled nearby, painting the side of his face in yellows and oranges.

If he wanted me to become the Duchess of Ashbury's newest lady-in-waiting—a very public position—why bother with all the cloak and dagger?

It would be impolite to ask him outright, though. It was annoying that I couldn't be more direct. But being part of fashionable society meant following its many rules, even the unsaid ones. Especially the unsaid ones.

"And you believe I might be the right lady for the job?" I asked instead.

Sebastian nodded. "Perfect, even."

I forced a smile. "I'm... honoured to hear that, Your Grace. But your sister must have other, more suitable ladies in mind."

That was my attempt at letting him down as gracefully as possible. By the way he didn't bat an eyelash over it, I could not tell if he had picked up on that fact.

"I am sure she does," he said. "But you are my choice. If you are amenable, I intend to tell Frederica to give you the position of lady-in-waiting."

No, I am not amenable! I wanted to shriek. Why would I want to be connected in any way to the parents of the future villain?

I was inhabiting the body of a mob character. An extra. It had taken me a year, but I had come to terms with my lot in life. I planned to live on the sidelines, watching on as the plot slowly but surely came to pass.

I had zero intentions of barging in and wrecking things. It would be stupid to risk my safety and peace of mind like that!

My hesitation must have shown in my expression, despite my best attempts to keep it at bay. Suddenly, Sebastian stopped smiling. His features sobered, and he uncrossed his legs so he could lean forward in his seat.

"Lady Haywood," he began, all warmth having left his voice, "I am not offering this position to you out of pure goodwill. We both know that. To be honest, I was certain that you wouldn't accept it immediately. You have remained out of society for the past year because of your husband's passing, that is true, but I know that is not the only reason."

My stomach dropped.

Sebastian's gaze held mine captive. I couldn't bring myself to look away, no matter how badly I wanted to. To do so meant admitting the truth. It meant admitting that he was right.

"By the time we conclude this conversation, you will agree to being the Duchess's lady-in-waiting. For you will realize that it is in your best interests to do so."

He said it like it was already fact. Like it was written in stone.

As we stared at each other, falling into a tense silence, one of the logs in the fireplace collapsed. Consumed by the inferno.