She took a small bite. It was excellent—perfectly cooked, subtly seasoned. "This is very good."
"But?"
"No but. It is genuinely very good."
Gregory studied her for a moment, then nodded to the footman. "Bring the alternative preparation."
The fish was replaced with another version—different sauce, different herbs. Also excellent. Anthea dutifully tasted it and declared it equally good, which earned her a look that suggested Gregory found her diplomatic approach frustrating.
"You must have a preference," he said.
"I prefer not to cause unnecessary work by being particular."
"You prefer to be accommodating even when it means ignoring your own preferences," he corrected. "That will not serve you well as a duchess."
She stiffened. "I am simply being practical."
"No. You are being passive." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp. "If you cannot tell a cook which fish sauce you prefer, how will you manage a household? Make decisions about staff?Navigate the complexities of hosting dinners where every choice carries social weight?"
Anthea set down her fork with deliberate care. "I liked the first one better. The lemon in the sauce complemented the fish without overwhelming it. Is that particular enough for you?"
"Yes." He looked satisfied rather than offended. "See? You have opinions. You simply need to voice them."
The footman cleared their plates and brought the next course. Then another. Each time, Gregory pressed her for her true preference, refusing to accept diplomatic non-answers. It was exhausting and oddly exhilarating in equal measure.
By the time they reached the soup course—a rich consommé that Anthea genuinely could not find fault with—she felt brave enough to redirect the conversation.
"The food is excellent," she said carefully. "But I confess, I did not expect such... thoroughness for a simple menu selection."
"It is not simple. It is your wedding breakfast. Every detail matters." He set down his spoon. "But you are correct that this is not the only reason I invited you here."
"It is not?"
"No." Gregory leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to something more businesslike. "We are to be married in six days.It would be foolish not to establish clear expectations before the ceremony."
Anthea's heart began to race. "I agree."
"Good." He gestured for the footman to clear the soup course, waiting until they were alone again before continuing. "Then let me be direct. As my duchess, you will manage this household. You will host dinners and balls as necessary. You will accompany me to social events and help me navigate Society—introduce me to the right people, warn me away from the wrong ones, ensure I do not commit social catastrophes that would damage my business interests."
"That is... extensive."
"It is what I require." His tone was matter-of-fact. "In return, I will provide you with financial security, social position as a duchess, and—" He paused. "I will ensure your sisters are properly provided for."
Anthea's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that securing suitable futures for Miss Veronica and Miss Poppy has always been part of this arrangement from my perspective." He said it as though it were obvious. "They will need proper dowries to make good matches."
"We have dowries. My father left?—"
"Your father's estate has been badly mismanaged," Gregory interrupted, not unkindly. "Your stepmother's spending habits have depleted what little remained. The funds that should have been set aside for your sisters have been... redirected."
Anthea's hands clenched in her lap. She had known, of course. Had watched Beatrice spend freely on new gowns and renovations and entertainments while the household accounts dwindled. But hearing it stated so plainly made it real in a way it had not been before.
"I have already instructed my man of business to establish proper settlements for both your sisters," Gregory continued. "They will each receive sufficient funds to attract respectable suitors. The exact amounts will be determined by what is appropriate for their stations, but I assure you it will be adequate."
"You have already arranged this?" Anthea's voice emerged smaller than intended.
"I began the arrangements three days ago. As soon as I knew we would marry." He tilted his head slightly. "Did you think I would allow my wife's sisters to enter the marriage market without proper support? That reflects poorly on both of us."
