Elizabeth steps between the two rowing men, angled towards Ernest. She shouts over their argument; astonishing the other dinner guests.
"Mr Sinclaire!" she scolds sharply.
His incredulous attention snaps down to her. The Duke smirks.
"Me?! Have you not been paying attention? I-"
Elizabeth interrupts Mr Sinclaire; standing tall and confident in front of him.
"My expectations of you are far higher than those I have of Duke Richards. Am I mistaken?" She asks, hissing between gritted teeth.
Mr Sinclaire holds his tongue with some difficulty - his whole body fuming tensely; jaw grinding as he considers her words. They'd be a compliment if they weren't so violent a warning. She's watching him expectantly. Daring him to snap at her again. He knows she's right. If he has to be reprimanded at his own dinner party he'd honestly prefer it was by Elizabeth. She knows his temperament better than he expected, and she's correct in the placement of her anger, as usual. His behaviour is unacceptable. Sinclaire relents, even with the smug glint in Duke Karlington's eye. Taking a breath, he drops the stiff bravado from his shoulders and stretches his fists, turning to Elizabeth and lowering his jaw to speak with her properly.
"...No… Apologies, Lady Edgewater."
She gives a soft nod of appreciation and acceptance in return and Sinclaire feels himself relax more fully. The silence of the party is deafening now, but he finds he doesn't have time to be embarrassed any further before Elizabeth speaks once more. It's Duke Karlington's turn to be scolded, apparently.
"I believe now would be a good time for you leave, Your Grace."
She begins, but it's far more certain than a suggestion. The Duke blinks stupidly. Beside him, Ernest straightens slightly with amusement and flattery as Elizabeth continues.
"You were uninvited in the first instance and have since taken advantage of Mr Sinclaire's graciousness, insulted his other guests and overstayed your undeserved welcome."
Lady Bennett doesn't move. She doesn't flinch when the Duke's face curdles slightly, nor as he glares at Sinclaire. Her eyes follow him as he finally moves around to collect his belongings and stomp out into the evening. The look on his face makes it clear he'll find some way to retaliate, and still Elizabeth meets his scowl. Only shifting when the door is closed, her attention lands on Ernest and he wills himself not to blush and let on how flattered he is at her actions. Elizabeth nods again, encouraging him to return to his hosting duties. Even now she deliberately avoids the gazes of the other guests in favour of watching him patiently. He clears his throat, already painfully aware of the gossip there will be tomorrow. Although, with the absence of Duke Karlington and the presence of Miss Bennett to comfort his lack of restraint, perhaps salvaging the occasion won't be such a dreadfully pointless hardship.