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Now, Lady Worthington lifted one finger. “But that also means that he has had no one to properly run a household or care for that poor child for some years now. If he agrees to this contract, you will become a duchess, and neither your father nor Penhurst will ever hold authority over a duchess.”

Juliet knew that. This man…this contract was her only lifeline to escaping the terrible life her father had consigned her to. But she also had her own reservations, which she voiced immediately.

“And if he is no better than either of them?”

Her grandmother’s expression only hardened in determination. “Then, we will come up with some other solution. We will simply find another way. I will not let you lose your freedom to choose.”

Juliet smiled sadly. Her ‘freedom to choose.’ Was that right? This marriage contract was nothing more than the lesser of two evils…and she could not delude herself into thinking she had any choice in this matter.

She picked up the contract and stood. “I…I have to go now,” she said, already rushing towards the hall. “Father will be here before dark falls.”

“I know.” Her grandmother followed closely behind her, spinning her around when they reached the vestibule again and taking her face in her warm hands as she had done since Juliet was old enough to cry over scraped knees. Then she leaned forward to kiss her granddaughter’s forehead. “Be safe, my dear girl. And may fortune be on your side.”

Juliet struggled to keep herself from crying as she nodded. “Yes, thank you, Grandmama. I will write as soon as I have good news.” And with that, she turned and ran back out into the early morning.

The road to Ravenlocke was longer than the directions had made it sound, or else the dark made the miles feel so. Poor Mercury hadn’t been able to rest ever since she’d ridden away from home, but Juliet couldn’t stop now. Her life now rested on the mercy of an unknown man she had to find before darkness fell.

The lanes narrowed as she went north, hedgerows falling away the farther she went. Soon, the country opened into a wilder view, and the sky turned from gray to black. She was past the last signpost, taking the final turn, and beginning to doubt the directions, when she saw the light.

It was a single-lit window peeking out above the tree line. With a sigh of hope, she pressed on.

The house loomed out of the dark as she came down the drive: enormous and irregular; added to across centuries by people who had plainly not bothered to consult each other.

The gatekeeper’s lodge sat empty, letting her chart a course toward the towering mansion. Ivy had claimed most of the south wall, and the gravel was edged with grass left long enough to grow unruly at the borders. As she passed, she noticed shutters on a row of windows that looked as if they had not been opened for years.

But there was that one lit room, high up and warm, and that was enough for her. Reaching the front, Juliet secured the mare, climbed the steps in her muddied dress that now stuck down the length of her back from dried sweat, and knocked.

No answer came, so she knocked again, even harder.

“Is anybody home?” Yes, she was desperate enough to yell in front of a stranger’s home.

From within, she heard the low murmur of voices and, cutting through them, a child’s high, clear register that sounded as if it was close to a tantrum. Juliet’s heart was pounding rather forcefully in her chest. That child’s voice…could it possibly be…the duke’s child?

As the footsteps grew closer, quickly followed by the sound of a bar being drawn back, she looked down at herself, her lips turning down at the state she was in. Sweat had stained the edges and the front of her gown, leaving rather unsightly brown spots all over the bodice. And half the beads were gone, leaving behind strings of thread flying in the breeze. Not to mention her mud-splattered skirt.

The front door opened, and her head snapped up at the sound.

The butler standing behind it was elderly, maybe even older than her grandmother, and whatever he thought of a woman appearing at the door past dark in a ruined wedding dress and looking worse for wear, his face gave no indication of it. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to inquire about her presence, but he did not get the chance.

A small figure appeared at his elbow and slipped beneath his outstretched arm in one smooth, and rather practiced, movement, skidding to a halt on the flagstones of the entrance hall and staring up at Juliet with both hands clasped in front of her. Her pretty brown eyes had gone very wide.

Juliet couldn’t be sure, but she looked to be perhaps seven years old, and the sheer innocence of her was highlighted by the slightly askew neckline of her nightgown, and the way her braid had mostly come undone.

“My lady, please!” The butler rushed forward, his tone exhausted in a way that told Juliet this was a common occurrence.

Those brown eyes continued to stare up at her, and Juliet found that she couldn’t look away. “You…are a princess,” she breathed, her lips curving into a smile of reckless abandon.

Juliet blinked, then looked down at herself again: the silk, the mud, and the pearl beading that was next to non-existent, then back at the little girl.

“I am very much not,” Juliet said, trying for a smile. She was also sure that her hair looked worse than a bird’s nest. “But it is kind of you to say so.”

Young Lady Eloise was adamant. “You look exactly like the one in my storybook,” she insisted, then turned back to look at the butler. “I told you there would be a princess at the door!”

The old butler looked Juliet over again, and Juliet could do nothing but smile apologetically back at him. She knew she looked like nothing of the sort in the old man’s eyes, and saying otherwise would put him in a very tough spot. She also knew how unfortunate it was that an apologetic smile was all she could offer.

“Lady Eloise!” Now, a woman appeared in the open doorway with a book still open in one hand, its spine creased to where she’d been holding it shut mid-chapter. She was clutching her bosom, her eyes wide with surprise as she turned to Juliet. “I do beg your pardon. She heard the knock and was off the bed before I could reach her.” She narrowed her eyes at the little girl. “She should have been asleep a full hour ago.”

Eloise was unfazed. “But I told you a princess would visit us today!” She folded her arms with a harrumph.