His question triggered something inside Alice, one that wanted to inflict pain so excruciating he would wish for death.

Despite her initial want to hurt him for his thoughtless question, she chose to believe that he had nothing better to say to her after months of being apart with no communication at all. Perhaps he was at a loss at how to approach her. It would support the reason why he had been standing behind her for quite some time before taking the courage to come near.

As she lingered on that thought, Alice began to feel the anger subside and the feeling of satisfaction slowly emerging. Of course she was satisfied she was not the only one feeling like a coward. He was even more of a coward than her, having no control over his tongue. And the thought that she was the cause of it was immensely satisfying indeed.

Without turning to face him, for she was not yet ready to do so, Alice said, "Martin and Eva are truly happy, despite what you first thought. Why would I even entertain thoughts of regret?" When he did not make a quick reply, Alice finally turned to face him. She momentarily lost track of her thoughts as his emerald green eyes met hers and everything—literally every bloody defense she had built up in months—crumbled to ashes. But she could not allow him to see through her, she thought as she forced one corner of her mouth to lift into a smile. "And you, my lord?"

He blinked in confusion when she did not add anything more to her question. Ah, he was truly handsome. "Me?"

Alice nodded. "Yes, you. Have you had any?"

"Any what?"

"Regrets," she provided matter-of-factly, her gaze strong and challenging, holding his prisoner.

His gaze wavered for a moment. "Regret? I have many, my lady."

She nodded and turned away. He must probably be dying to know what she was thinking, but there was no way she would allow him the luxury. "Too bad, then," was all she said. "You must have lived your life poorly to have numerous ones."

Harold moved to face the same direction as she and they stood side by side to watch the silent garden ahead. "I meant to ask why you are here."

"You must think I do not belong here. Well, I have to agree."

"No, that is not what I meant. You know that."

Of course, she bitterly thought. He thought highly of her, did he not? "I have no choice but to join the season. As you very well know, I have to."

From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head to look at her. "I was not asking why you are hunting for a husband here either."

Alice frowned, suddenly confused. She turned to look at him. "Then what do you mean, my lord?"

His eyes left hers and he looked her up and down as though assessing her condition. "You were on an accident."

Alice's jaw tightened as she did not know what to say. She blinked. She was actually surprised with the concern she heard in his voice. "I was."

His eyes lingered longer on hers. Alice recognized the desire, but she was getting used to it. She knew he would do nothing to entertain whatever he felt for her. His mind was already made up. And she thought so was hers.

He shook his head in disbelief and turned to face the garden again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Have you sustained any injury?"

"If I did, I already recovered."

"I ought to laugh, you know."

"Why so?"

"You mocked me when I fell off Benjamin."

"It was Camel who had an accident. It was merely unfortunate that I was with him," she countered with irritation.

"I am not questioning your riding talent, Alice."

"Good, because I would have none of it."

He smiled. A moment passed between them. Perhaps they were both trying to calm themselves. He brought up something that happened months ago. He should not have, Alice thought. It led her mind to wander to other things. "You ought to take care of yourself more."

"That, I should," Alice said, stepping back. She decided they had already spent more than together than necessary. She was wasting her time here.

He whirled around to face her as she started to turn to go back into the ballroom.

"What do you mean?"

Alice shook her head, as if mocking his ignorance. "I am here for a reason, my lord, and that says I am taking care of myself."

"How—?" he asked, following her to the doorway.

She stopped and faced him with a small smile. "By hunting a husband, of course."

*****

"And she is enthusiastic about it all?" Harold asked incredulously.

Martin shrugged, looking around the ballroom. They found some time to escape the crowed and enjoy a momentary peace in one corner. "Eva and I have expressed our desire to help her find one."

"I still cannot fathom why she agreed to be dragged around this season. Can you? She was inclined not to marry you and you were almost—almost—the best candidate. How in the bloody hell could she find someone here? By tomorrow, every bloody gentleman would have already heard of Lady Ice."

"We both know Alice is not ignorant. She knows she will have nearly no chance of finding whoever she wishes to marry here, but she has no choice. Everyone conspired against her, her mother the most. Add my own mother, too." Martin accepted a drink from a server and smiled at Harold. "Alice herself is a challenge enough, which makes this even more interesting for Eva and I. We do like the challenge this situation imposes. And not every bloody gentleman would care about her reputation, Harry. Surely there will be someone who would be willing to look past the Lady Ice."

Harold scoffed and shook his head. "You ought to instruct her how to dance properly first." His eyes were on Alice and Eva as the two talked with three other women. "She can dance, but she does not know the basics of how to be social while doing so."

His friend sighed heavily. "We try our best."

"And perhaps you ought to stop choosing for her," Harold suggested. "I was watching you earlier. You judge each man who wants to dance with her, but every one you selected was seen running away from her. Bloody hell, let her dance with every gentleman who wishes it."

Martin chuckled. "Eva said the same thing. We do not have the time to be choosy, as what my mother said."

"True."

"We actually do have a list, but it is running short. We truly have to put in more effort. Or lack thereof when it comes to her dancing cards."

"A list? What? You scratch names out as you go along?" Harold chuckled in disbelief.

Martin nodded. Martin was looking at him with a wicked smile on his face. Harold waited for what his friend was about to say next. It was clear on Martin's face that he was itching to tell him. When Martin did not say a word, he lost patience and demanded, "What is it?"

Martin shook his head, feigning nonchalance. He turned to check on his wife, his eyes glimmering with pride. "Oh, just a minor thing," he replied. "My mother added a name on the list that you might find quite... interesting."

Harold stiffened in alarm, but Martin was fast to shake his head and face him to say, "Since you have spent time with her and still did not end up marrying her, you are not on the list."

Harold's jaw tightened. "I better not be," he muttered under his breath.

"Everyone knows you do not wish to marry, Harold, so calm down. You are the best candidate, but you are also the worst one."

"Thank you," he replied mockingly. For a few seconds, they merely stood there watching Eva and Alice be approached by a gentleman. It was Downworth, a decent young man. Eva asked Alice something and Alice nodded. Downworth then extended his hand as another waltz was starting. Harold's eyes followed Alice as Downworth guided her to the dance floor. A moment later, he asked Martin, "Then who is it? Who did your mother believe to be worthy of Lady Ice's hand?"

Martin's shoulders shook with laughter. As it died down, he stared at Harold, mischief in his voice. "Timothy Bowman."

Harold almost sprang from where he was standing, fury suddenly erupting inside him. His entire body snapped to face Martin's amused face. "You cannot be bloody serious," he gritted through his teeth.

"I am," Martin said. "And despite how you might feel, Harry, Bowman is a good candidate—rich and with quite a good reputation amongst the women. But most of all, unlike you, he is also out hunting for a wife."

"You bloody know what the man—"

Martin sighed dramatically, giving him a wry look. He leaned closer to whisper, "Harry, what you and Bowman have against each other does not concern Alice's future. She is barely your friend and you are not family. Why would she care what you have against Bowman? And thus, why would we consider your feelings?"

Harold stiffened. Martin was right.

He had nothing to say. What else could be done? He did have a squabble with Bowman, but Alice had nothing to do with it.

But the mere picture of her marrying and sharing the same bed with a man Harold hated the most was just terrible.

*****

By the time the waltz was ending, Martin and Harold had already returned to Eva's side.

Alice did not seem uncomfortable with her partner, and surprisingly enough, Downworth seemed to still have a smile on his face as he guided Alice out of the dance floor.

"Where are they going?" Harold asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"When a gentleman wishes to extend his time with a woman, he invites her to the garden," Eva whispered beside him, voice enthusiastic.

Martin chuckled and added beside him, "The garden can also be utilized in a wholesome fashion, Harry."

Harold forced himself from fuming. He took a deep breath and said, "Very well, then I find this bloody ball boring. I see no one else who would wish to spend time in the garden with me in the other fashion I am used to."

Eva scoffed in disbelief. "Oh, men."

"Let him be, darling," said Martin, eyeing Harold curiously. "He is frustrated."

"Why so?" his wife asked.

"Yes, Martin, why so?" Harold asked, tone challenging. For a short moment, he thought he understood what her friend was trying to say and he was afraid that Martin was starting to see through him.

Martin allowed a knowing smile before he shrugged and say, "You cannot find a woman be debauch tonight, that is all."

"You bloody bastard," he said with a shake of his head. He turned to Eva to say, "Please, you did not hear that."

"I heard it quite clearly, Harry," Eva said with a chuckle. "But I can choose to ignore it."

Eva looked around the ballroom and said to Martin, "Darling, I see Lady Gedge. Perhaps I should say hello."

Martin's face turned sour. "She is the least person to be chummy with, my love."

"Oh, but she is quite nice."

"Nice and the greatest gossipmonger of her generation, yes."

"Oh, surely she does not have anything against us, yes?" Eva asked wickedly. "She is the first person to welcome me in Wickhurst. I should say hello."

"Very well, be done with it and come back before you hear any of her new gossips. They are rarely true."

Eva smiled and left Harold with Martin.

"Should we exercise our legs?" Harold asked, leading his friend through the crowd.

They eventually reached the door that led to the gardens.

Martin quietly laughed beside him, shaking his head. "Exercise your bloody legs," his friend mocked.

"I'm afraid I do not comprehend what you mean," said Harold, his eyes locked on Alice and Downworth. The two had not gone far, but they seemed to be enjoying their time together that Harold found it impossible. Alice Archibald enjoying a man's company? What could Downworth have done? The man must be hiding an extraordinary strength to have gone this far.

Martin's laughter died down and when Harold stole a glance, his friend's expression had gone serious. "What?" he demanded.

"Harry," Martin said, blue eyes utterly stern, "if you do not wish to marry, you ought to stay away from her."

"I am not—" he started to protest, but his friend held up a hand to stop him.

"I do not bloody care what happened between you two, although I might have had an inkling before this, but do stay away from her if you care enough."

His jaw tightened. Martin knew him well enough.

"Give the woman a chance with someone else, Harry."