“Half the season is gone, and he’s not courting you.” He was though, wasn’t he? Before she could argue the point, her mother pressed on. “He hasn’t spoken to your father.” She opened her mouth. “He will.” “No, Sera. He won’t. He’s had six weeks to do so. He’s had six years to. You expect me to believe that after six years of seasons, of being disdained by pompous aristocrats with more money than heaven itself, of scraping for invitations and pleading for attention, the Duke of Haven has taken a liking to a Soiled S?” Yes.
