April laughed, holding up a blue morning dress against June's nightdress-clad form. "They're attending the party before beginning their journey. Mother says they couldn't possibly sail to France without seeing all three of their daughters first." She tilted her head, examining the dress critically. "This will do. You'll need to look your best—Mother will notice if you don't."
June rose, allowing her sister to help her dress. "How does Father look?" she asked, unable to keep the note of concern from her voice. Their father's health had been precarious for years, though he'd shown marked improvement in recent months.
"Better than I've seen him in ages," April assured her, fastening the tiny buttons at the back of the dress. "He walked from the carriage without his cane."
A genuine smile spread across June's face. "That is excellent news."
"Indeed. Now sit so I can do something with this rat's nest you call hair," April commanded, steering June toward the dressing table. "I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think you'd spent half the night wandering the grounds."
June caught her sister's eyes in the mirror, suddenly wary. "What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing at all," April replied, too innocently to be believed. She began brushing June's hair with quick, efficient strokes. "Though I did hear someone moving about the house well past midnight. The servants will talk, you know."
The servants. Of course.June felt a flush creeping up her neck. Had someone seen her with Dominic in the kitchen? The thought was mortifying.
"I was hungry," she said, which was not a lie. "I missed dinner."
"Mmm," April murmured noncommittally, twisting June's hair into a simple but elegant knot. "There. Presentable enough for Mother's inspection."
June stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting."
They descended the main staircase together, June mentally preparing herself for her mother's inevitable questions about her marriage prospects. Dorothy Vestiere, Duchess of Wildmoore, had been remarkably patient with June's reluctance to wed, but that patience was not inexhaustable.
Her parents were in the drawing room, her father seated comfortably by the window while her mother chatted animatedly with May. At June's entrance, both looked up, their faces brightening.
"There she is!" her father called, making to rise.
"Don't get up, Papa," June said quickly, crossing the room to embrace him. He smelled of pipe tobacco and the leather-bound books he loved so well. "I'm so pleased to see you looking well."
"Better every day," he assured her, patting her hand. "Though your mother insists on treating me like an invalid."
"I merely suggested you might want to rest after the journey," Dorothy said, coming to wrap June in a warm embrace. "My darling girl. Let me look at you."
June submitted to her mother's inspection, turning obediently when instructed. Dorothy's keen eyes missed nothing—not the slight shadows beneath June's eyes, nor the careful way she held herself.
"You look tired," Dorothy pronounced. "Are you not sleeping well?"
"I was reading late," June replied, which was true enough, if incomplete.
Before her mother could press further, a commotion at the door drew their attention. June turned, and her stomach dropped as Theodore entered, followed by none other than Dominic Blake.
He looked as though he'd stepped from the pages of a fashion plate, his dark blue coat fitting his broad shoulders to perfection, his cravat arranged in a complex knot that somehow managed to appear both immaculate and casually achieved. His dark haircurled slightly over his forehead, as if daring someone to push it back.
June became aware of a sudden silence and glanced at her mother, only to find Dorothy staring at Dominic with undisguised interest. Slowly, a smile spread across the duchess's face—a smile June recognized all too well.
No. Please, no.
Dorothy leaned close, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Have you been introduced to the Duke of Icemere?"
June pretended to roll her eyes, striving for nonchalance despite the rapid beating of her heart. "Yes, I have been introduced to him."
"He's quite handsome," Dorothy observed, her gaze still fixed on Dominic. "And a duke, no less. His estates in Cornwall are said to be magnificent."
"I have no interest, Mama," June said firmly. "Besides, he is a rake."
Dorothy waved a hand dismissively. "Nonsense! May married a rake and reformed him!"
"Not too loud, Mama!" June hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she needed was for Dominic to overhear hermother's matchmaking schemes. Her gaze swept the room and collided with his.
