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At the edge of the display, between a brass inkwell and a set of pen nibs, sat a chess piece. A king, carved from yew wood, dark and smooth. The crown was plain, the lines clean, nothing decorative for its own sake. She picked it up. It was heavier than she expected for its size.

“For whom?” Lady Worthington asked, at her shoulder.

“For him,” Juliet said. She put three shillings on the baize.

Her grandmother was quiet for a moment. “He doesn’t know yet.”

Juliet kept her eyes on the piece. “Know what?”

“That you are not managing at all.” Lady Worthington moved toward Eloise, who had set the jar down and was now examining a tin of buttons. “Come, my darling, you will knock it⁠—”

Juliet closed her fingers around the king and said nothing, because there was nothing to say.

Chapter Twelve

“And when,” Lady Hemsworth said, closing her fan with a deliberate snap, “may we expect to hear the happy announcement?”

She was smiling as she said it. She had not stopped since they had been introduced, which was four minutes ago by Adam’s count. The smile had not moved past her mouth.

Juliet turned her wine glass once in her hands. “We have only just married,” she said pleasantly. “Happy announcements prefer not to be rushed.”

Lady Hemsworth’s fan reopened. “Oh, naturally. Only with the estate so long without a proper duchess, and the child growing older—” She tilted her head toward Juliet as though sharing a confidence. “One does hear that the girl is quite troubled. Entirely understandable, mind you. Given how the first duchess died. You must find it rather a burden, taking on such a complicated situation.”

Juliet was still holding her wine glass, level and unhurried, and did not look at Adam.

“Lady Hemsworth.” Her voice had not risen or sharpened. It was simply clear. “I am indeed new to this house. That is true. However, Eloise is a child of seven, and I ask that she be spoken of with the same courtesy you extend to any member of this family. She is not troubled. She is not a burden. She is the duke’s daughter.” She looked at the woman squarely. “She is mine to speak for, and I shall do so without apology.”

Lady Hemsworth’s fan went still, her smile turning into something more complicated.

She looked at Adam.

He had been watching Juliet’s profile from the moment Lady Hemsworth had said troubled. Her shoulders did not move. Her chin stayed level. She did not reach for him. She looked at the woman and spoke. In thirty seconds, she had done everything he had needed a title, a decade, and considerably more fury to manage. She had done it without any of those things.

He met Lady Hemsworth’s eyes and kept his voice very even.

“My wife has said what is needed.” He held her gaze. “I will say this to warn you once. This is the last occasion I will hear any member of my family spoken of in such terms. I trust the rest of your evening is pleasant.”

He offered Juliet his arm, and she set her hand on it without glancing back, and they walked away.

The carriage back was quiet. The city ran past in oil-lamp intervals, and Juliet sat across from him, hands folded and face half in shadow.

By the time they got back to the mansion, the entrance hall was still. A single candelabrum burned on the hall table, and the house was quiet above.

Juliet drew off her gloves, set them on the side table, and turned.

“Thank you,” she said. This time, the word carried a different charge than it had at the soiree. “I don’t mean the addendum, though that was appreciated. I just… thank you for understanding… why I had to say it.”

He crossed a step toward her, even though he had not quite planned to.

“I admit that I have not made this easy for you,” he said plainly, the words spilling out of him as though he were a bottle without a stopper. “Since you came into this house. I know I have been discourteous, even when I knew it was unwarranted.” He didn’t look away from her at all. “Whatever our circumstances, we are family. You have treated it as such from the beginning, and I have not always returned the courtesy. I am sorry for it.”

Juliet was quiet, her beautiful eyes just watching him, before she shook her head.

“No, I… I also have things that I must apologize to you for. After all, you have reason to be careful,” she said.

Adam’s expression hardened into frustration. “It was not always carefulness.”

“No,” she said. Her eyes were steady and blue in the lamplight. “But I would not have done differently, in your place.”