"I'll fetch Lady Billingsgate," he said, "while you sit with Lady Amanda." And then he left, taking his warm hands with him.
Juliana made her way to the sofa and collapsed beside her friend.
Poor Amanda was shaking. "I did it," she said. "I forced myself to do it. And it didn't work!"
"I'm glad it didn't work. It was unethical to begin with. We mustn't try it again." It had made her feel too guilty. In fact, she still felt guilty. She wondered if she'd ever be able to look at James again without feeling a pang of guilt.
"But why didn't it work? I did everything you said, but he wouldn't kiss me."
That was because Juliana had led him to think Lady Billingsgate was about to walk in, but she wouldn't admit that to Amanda. Besides, Amanda was equally at fault. If she had given James any indication that she wanted him—him, not his antiquities—he'd have reached for her the moment he entered the darkened library. "Maybe he wouldn't kiss you because you haven't allowed him to kiss you before."
"He never tried before," Amanda said. "He isn't a very warm person."
Juliana felt an urge to laugh, though she wasn't quite sure whether it was from the obvious absurdity of Amanda's statement or simply from hearing Amanda, of all people, claim someone else wasn't warm.
James was the warmest man she knew. She didn't believe for a moment that he'd never tried to kiss Amanda. Amanda was plainly too reserved to respond. "You need to act more warmly towards him. You have to make him believe you want him."
"I do want him. I cannot marry Lord Malmsey! And our wedding is only two weeks away! I must tell Lord Stafford about my engagement."
"You cannot. He's too honorable to cooperate with any plan to force your father's hand."
"Then how on earth am I to get him to compromise me in time?"
"You need to let him kiss you, and I don't mean as part of a plot. A few kisses will lead to more, and eventually you'll be discovered. Society is a nosy lot, in case you haven't noticed."
"That sounds like a plot," Amanda pointed out.
"It isn't." All right, maybe it was. But it wasn't the same sort of plot as the one they'd tried tonight. Corinna had said that a kiss made all the difference. Once James kissed Amanda, she'd fall in love with him, and they'd both want more kisses, and the rest would happen naturally.
Surely there was no reason to feel guilty about that.
"Lady Amanda!" Lady Billingsgate exclaimed, rushing in. "Are you unwell? Before Lord Stafford left, he told me you'd taken ill."
So James had left. Juliana wouldn't have to look at him again and feel a pang of guilt. But as Amanda explained to Lady Billingsgate that she was quite recovered, thank you, Juliana wondered why knowing she didn't have to face him failed to bring her a measure of relief.
TWENTY-EIGHT
RICHMOND MAIDS OF HONOUR
Mix Curd with Butter and add 4 yolks of Eggs beaten with a glass of Brandy, half a cup of Sugar, fine white Breadcrumbs with some ground Almonds and a little Nutmeg. To this put the juice of one Lemon and the grated yellow of 2. Press puff paste into your tins and fill and bake.
These small, rich cheesecakes are from a recipe said to have been in the family since Queen Elizabeth's (my namesake's) time. They will melt anyone. Excellent for begging forgiveness.
—Elizabeth, Countess of Greystone, 1728
THE NEXT morning dawned bright and sunny, which should have made Juliana feel cheerful, but instead she still felt guilty. It being Sunday, she attended St. George's Hanover Square Church, where the sermon was all about truth, which made her feel even more guilty. So guilty that afterward she baked some Richmond Maids of Honour and asked Griffin to take her to Stafford House.
"Why?" he asked.
A perfectly reasonable question, but one she didn't want to answer. She was entirely too ashamed of her actions to admit them to her brother.
"I just want to ask Lord Stafford if he'd like me to volunteer next week at the Institute," she said. That wasn't quite a lie, since she'd been wondering when he might need her again. "I forgot to ask him last night." With all that had gone on at the ball, she really had forgotten.
"You could send him a note," Griffin suggested.
"Just take me, will you?"
"Very well." Griffin shook his head in that mystified, brotherly way of his. "I cannot imagine why a note won't do, but I'll take you."
"Thank you," she said.
When he was sitting across from her in the carriage, he stretched out his legs and steepled his fingers. "How is your romance with Castleton proceeding?"
She fiddled with the platter on her lap. "He says he's falling in love with me, but he hasn't kissed me yet."
"He's a gentleman," Griffin said, looking not at all unpleased with that news. "He shouldn't kiss you before you're wed. Or engaged at the very least."
Trust a brother to think that. She considered telling him Corinna believed a woman should kiss some frogs so she'll know when she's met her prince, but thought better of it. For one thing, getting Corinna in trouble served no point, and for another, she was beginning to believe her sister was right. If James and Amanda had already kissed, perhaps the plot would have proved successful.
Not that she wished it had, mind you. She felt guilty enough as it was.
"The duke believes a couple should wait to kiss, too," she said instead. "You must be the only two such men in all of London."
"I'm certain he'll ask for your hand soon." Griffin leaned closer and patted her knee. "I'll have a talk with him. In my stables."
"Pardon?" What did his stables have to do with anything?
"Never mind. We've arrived." The carriage pulled to a stop in
