"Use the whole almonds, Amanda. You want the macaroons to look pretty, don't you?" Juliana picked out the broken nut and replaced it with a perfect one, thinking Amanda was almost as hopeless at cooking as Corinna. It was a good thing that an earl's wife wouldn't be expected to set foot in the kitchen. "What did he send you this time?" she asked.
"The most elegant lace gloves. I'm not sure Aunt Mabel would approve of something so personal. Fortunately she was napping when the package arrived. I suggested maybe she should return to the countryside, since Lady Frances is doing such a fine job as chaperone."
Juliana supposed Aunt Frances was a fine chaperone, if one considered oblivious to be synonymous with fine. "I'm glad Lady Mabel doesn't mind Aunt Frances filling in for her." Not least because it would be impossible to carry out their plan with the dear lady watching over Amanda. "Still, I hope she isn't feeling poorly enough to leave London. I enjoyed her company at Wednesday's sewing party."
"She surely enjoyed attending, too. It was much less strenuous than going on outings. Why, she hardly even wheezed."
And she'd proved a much better seamstress than her niece, completing four blankets in two hours. Unfortunately, even with Lady Mabel's help, Juliana had so far collected only thirty-three of the two hundred forty items she needed. And she had just three weeks left—the same three weeks Amanda had to find a new fiancé before she was forced to marry Lord Malmsey. "You're planning to keep the gloves, then?"
"I wouldn't dream of returning them. The workmanship is utterly stunning. The pink roses were beautiful, too. And I adore the painted fan," Amanda added as she placed another almond off-center. "Lord Stafford has exquisite taste, don't you think? Especially for a man."
Juliana was glad she'd taken it upon herself to have each of James's gifts delivered rather than trusting him to remember. Tomorrow evening, she would make sure Amanda wore the gloves and carried the fan, which should please him. She could scarcely wait until the ball, when he'd dance again with Amanda and ask for permission to court her. She was certain Amanda would agree.
Everything was going perfectly.
Hearing the tall-case clock chime upstairs, she hurried to place the last almonds. She had only half an hour to ready herself before James arrived for today's excursion to the Egyptian Hall. "Thank you for your help," she told Amanda as she shoved the pans into the oven. "I'll have a footman deliver half the macaroons to your house as soon as they're finished."
Not usually one to show affection, Amanda wrapped Juliana in a loose, awkward embrace. "Thank you," she said. "I had no idea that macaroons make one's eyes sparkle, but I appreciate your telling me and letting me help bake them."
"You're very welcome," Juliana murmured, feeling a bit guilty about misleading her. But only a bit. Honestly, she'd had no choice. Amanda was entirely too proper and reserved to bake macaroons with the intention of making a man amorous.
After Amanda took her leave, Juliana went upstairs to change her dress and put on a little rouge and lip salve. She was on her way back down when she heard the knocker bang. As she arrived in the foyer, expecting to see James, Adamson opened the door to reveal a deliveryman holding an enormous arrangement of red roses.
"Holy Hannah!" Paintbrush in hand, Corinna came in from the drawing room. "There must be five dozen!"
Aunt Frances came in from the library. "Goodness gracious, I can smell them from here. And just look at that gorgeous silver vase!"
"Do you expect they're from the duke?" Corinna asked.
"They must be," Juliana breathed, setting the gloves she was carrying on the marble-topped hall table. Red roses. The duke must be even more enamored than she'd hoped.
The heady scent was almost overwhelming. After tipping the deliveryman, the butler put the arrangement on the table. She plucked the card from it with shaking hands.
"A small token in comparison to the great love I hold in my heart," she read aloud, her pulse pounding harder with each precious word. "And it's signed—"
Her mouth gaped open, mute.
"Who signed it?" Corinna demanded. "Are the flowers not from the duke?"
Juliana closed her mouth and held the card out to Aunt Frances. "They're from Lord Malmsey. They're for you."
Frances's hand flew up to cover her heart. She looked like she might swoon for a moment, but in the end she just said, "For me?" in a squeaky little voice.
"For you," Juliana repeated, thrilled at this evidence her project was working. And thrilled for Frances, too, of course. Seeing her aunt sway on her feet, she eased her onto the striped satin chair that sat by the table. "Are you all right, Auntie?"
Her hand still splayed on her bosom, Frances blew out a breath. "Heavens, child, I've never been better." Her eyes looked misty behind their lenses. "But I do feel just a bit faint."
A kitchen maid came up from the basement and handed Juliana a small basket covered with a lace doily. "Your macaroons, my lady. A dozen, as you requested."
"Thank you," Juliana said and set the basket beside the flowers.
"May I speak with you a moment?" Without waiting for her to answer, Corinna took her by the arm. "In the drawing room."
They left Frances gazing at her roses.
"Do you not think," Corinna said once they were behind closed doors, "that this is going a little too far?"
"What?" Juliana asked, feeling bewildered.
"Sending Aunt Frances flowers and claiming they're from Lord Malmsey. Really, Juliana, what do you think is going to happen tomorrow at the ball when she thanks him for them and he tells her he didn't send them to her?"
"He did send them to her," Juliana said.
"He didn't."
"Well, who did, then? Because I didn't. I had nothing to do with those
