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halted in
midsentence to turn and see what or who had so completely captivated her
attention.
    “It’s him,” Cynthia softly announced. “Your
gentleman from last evening. He—”
    “Yes, it is the Duke of Rothford.” Eugenia thought
she could remain calm and unaffected by his presence but her heart raced as he
neared.
    The handsome trio headed in their direction and did
not stop to greet anyone on their way to the back of the establishment. Eugenia
had expected his manner would change the moment he saw her.
    She was wrong.
    Rothford did not acknowledge any of them. Eugenia
had thought his attention did not matter but the unbidden tears that welled up
in her eyes as he passed her in silence told another story. She fumbled at her
reticule for a lace handkerchief and blotted away her tears. It was so
unladylike to cry in public.
    She had expected some type of recognition from him.
    “Oh, Eugenia, I am so sorry,” Cynthia said
soothingly. She set her cup down and laid a comforting hand upon her friend’s
arm.
    “ Ist this your duke?” Franz’s eyes narrowed and his glare followed the men with
interest.
    “My duke, indeed!” Eugenia pouted, wiping the last
bit of moisture from her eyes. She sniffed and lifted her chin in new found
composure.
    “I cannot believe he said nothing to you,” Cynthia
remarked quietly in disbelief.
    “Manner from my country vood not treat a lady so.” Franz’s voice had a hard edge to it. He snatched the
napkin from his lap and dropped it on the table. “ Verzeihung ,”
he said, shooting to his feet.
    “Herr Mueller, please sit down!” Eugenia said, she
hoped not too loudly. She did not wish to make her situation worse than it
already was.
    He understood the warning. His gaze met hers and he
lowered himself into his seat at her silent request.
    “Has he not disgraced you, Fraulein?”
    “No, not at all,” she responded curtly but felt the
shame of being socially cut. “We have only shared a single dance together. I
suppose I have construed something more.” Eugenia rested back in her chair and
felt quite ashamed.
    He took to his feet again. “I vill not allow his insufferable action to pass. Und I insist you allow me to speak
to him on your behalf!”
    “No, please, Herr Mueller. I do not want you to
cause a scene!” She grasped his hand and, with a gentle tug, returned him to
his seat. “I thank you for your gallant gesture.”
    Franz straightened his waistcoat and, once again,
settled in his chair. “If you ever vish me to
intervene, I shall be more than happy to oblige, Fraulein.”
    It was then Eugenia realized she had underestimated
Herr Mueller and Penelope had completely misjudged him. It was there and then
that Eugenia decided she should spend more time with the musician and not waste
another thought on that dastardly duke.
    That evening there was a rout at Countess
Helmsley’s. Eugenia felt a certain trepidation in attending a function that
might lure the Duke of Rothford. Still, she believed she could enjoy herself
even in the event he should be present.
    She could ignore him just as effectively as he had
ignored her.
    As she dressed for the evening, Eugenia had not
made the effort for a thorough toilette. She dressed in her azure blue gown but
had not made much of an effort with her hair. She pulled curly wisps around her
face, allowing the dramatic contrast of her rich, dark hair against the
smoothness of her flawless skin, and decided that it would have to do. She
simply did not care how she looked tonight.
    Aunt Rose wandered into Eugenia’s room to check on
her progress. “I have the most delicious necklace that would go splendidly with
that gown,” she tittered.
    With that, Aunt Rose stepped out of the room and
returned not more than three minutes later with an exquisite black velvet box.
She pulled up on the lid and the heavy brass hinges groaned. The box opened to
reveal a massive citrine sparkle. Lying on a pillow of pristine white satin
were a