Just two days had passed since the Parker's ball and in Isabella's mind there abounded a flurry of conflicting questions. The day after the ball and been a whirlwind of gossip and conversation mainly instigated by her father. He had recounted the story of how Alexander Kinsley the Duke of Rothbury; "had come to his rescue!" so many times that Isabella could not bear to hear the tale divulged one more time. Compared to her father she was not so naive as to believe that his help was due solely from a wish to "help others", as he had himself proclaimed. By the second day Isabella was beginning to grow nervous: "what was his motive" she questioned internally.

The morning sun was streaming into the library as Isabella tried to stay focused on the book of poetry she was reading. The words became progressively more blurred as her mind wandered and she acknowledged that it was undeniable, she had felt a strange connection toward the Duke when they touched. However, she couldn't believe the Duke reciprocated this. He could have any lady his heart desired from any county across England and Scotland. It made no sense that he could harbour any feelings toward a lowly lady from a family that was now financially insecure.

Although their family had tried to conceal this fact, she was in no doubt that the Duke now knew of their precarious standing in society. "He's never going to want anything to do with me now" she thought while simultaneously laughing internally at the idea that she considered the chance of being more to him than a passing acquaintance. While she was lost in her thoughts their Butler Arthur came bustling into the library and proclaimed that a messenger had just arrived, before handing her a note sealed with red wax. Isabella took it gingerly and examined the seal. It pictured two rider-less horses rearing upright with an elaborate crest betwixt them. Isabella's hands slightly shook as she broke the seal and hurriedly unfolded the letter to read:

Dear Miss Bradford,

Following our encounter at the Parker's - what I can only describe as a riveting ball, - I would like to invite you to have tea this Friday. If this is agreeable to you, I will send a carriage to collect you at 12pm.

Alexander Kinsley

Her hands now visibly trembled as she refolded the letter and held it tightly in awe. "What are his intentions" she questioned. It shocked her that she sensed the sarcasm in his note referring to the "riveting ball" and the intuitive way she knew his meaning, even though she actually knew so little about this man. However, her mind jumped to all sorts of conclusions some entirely unsavoury for a lady of the ton. "He must have come up with some sort of way that my family or I can repay him" she thought. It was clear to Isabella that judging by the stories she had heard about his rakish behaviours; it was entirely likely that he could request something she was not comfortable with. Bracing herself she did what any rational lady in her position would do and accepted his invitation with bated breath. It was evident that she could not refuse such a powerful man's request so she waited in nervous anticipation as to how events would unfold.