Alice exchanged a worried glance with Katherine. Nellie had been right—these two men were not about to back down. Whatever happened during this house party, it was not going to end well.

“Have a seat, Kit.” Harrison slapped Kit on the back. “No need to wear yourself out on our account.”

Kit’s attention turned to Alice as he sat, his face blank but his eyes burning intensely, as if he were trying to see under her skin. Into her brain. Was he upset that his request to play had been shrugged off? If so, what had that to do with her?

Chapter Seven

Kit was in a foul goddamn mood.

Everything was going terribly. After today’s glorious lesson, Alice had ignored him—again—and though Kit knew the reasons behind her mask of indifference in regards to him, it rankled. Instead, she’d stared at the duke with stars in her dashed eyes, as if that prig was the only glass of water left in a desert.

As if that weren’t bad enough, Maddie was now showing off her betrothal ring. The guests had gathered in the salon for a drink before dinner when Maddie removed her glove to display a diamond and emerald monstrosity on her left ring finger. The ladies had squealed and expressed their delight at the match, as if Maddie had just won some sort of prize.

Throwing back the rest of his champagne, he swapped the empty coupe for a full one on his way over to Harrison. His friend looked ready to tear the furniture apart with his bare hands. “Now what?” he murmured once at Harrison’s side.

“I don’t know,” Harrison said tightly. “I hadn’t thought that bastard would propose. I thought I had more time.”

They both glanced at the duke, leaning against the mantel as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“God, I hate him,” Harrison said.

After watching Alice study Lockwood all afternoon, Kit had to agree. “Impossible to avoid a scandal now. You have to proceed cautiously.”

“There’s no time for caution,” Harrison snapped. “Or else I’ll lose her. For good, this time.”

Kit studied Alice, who sat stiffly beside her mother on the far sofa. His prized pupil subtly watched the duke from under her lashes, and Kit’s blood boiled. “We have to get rid of him.”

“Get rid of who?” Nellie appeared on Kit’s right side, champagne glass in her hand.

“The duke,” Harrison said.

“Ah. Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t stayed away so long, Harrison.”

Harrison didn’t answer, though his lips pressed together in a flat line.

“I understand why he’s upset,” Nellie said to Kit. “But why are your drawers in a twist?”

“Solidarity,” he lied.