"We can't," Amanda said. "Juliana and your aunt and I are leaving at five to go to Chelsea Physic Garden, and we'll need time to ready ourselves first."
"Chelsea Physic Garden?" Claire looked up from the little frock she was sewing. "What's that?"
"Some garden for doctors," Juliana said. "James thinks Amanda will like it."
Rachael tied off a thread. "You call him James?"
"Lord Stafford," Juliana gritted out, "said Chelsea Physic Garden is very peaceful."
"My son knows exactly what women enjoy," Lady Stafford said. "He's taken me to the garden in Chelsea, and it's lovely."
Reaching for a spool, Rachael leaned closer to Juliana. "So tell me about James," she whispered.
"There's nothing to tell," Juliana said. "And we must stop whispering. It's not polite."
"You're right," Rachael said louder as she threaded her needle. "I've been wondering," she said to the company in general, "whether it's a good idea to marry a man expecting him to change."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Whom are you thinking of marrying?"
"No one in particular. It's just a hypothetical question."
"No," Corinna said flatly. "You cannot change people. If you marry a man expecting him to change, you'll be disappointed."
"Not necessarily," Juliana disagreed. "People change all the time. Look at Amanda."
Amanda blushed.
"Amanda wanted to change," Corinna argued. "That's very different from expecting a change in someone who's happy with himself."
Claire nodded. "Just think, Juliana. How would you feel if someone married you expecting you to change? Or even hoping you would change? Wouldn't you prefer a man who wants you just the way you are without wishing you were different?"
"We're not talking about me," Juliana snapped. "It was Rachael asking the question."
But she knew they were talking about her. Or at least they could be. She was planning to marry the duke expecting him to change, and she knew the duke would probably hope she would change, too.
Whereas James liked her just the way she was. But only as a friend—he would never love her. If it seemed he wanted her in a physical sense, that was only because they were friends and he wanted a child.
And he had to marry Amanda, or else three other people's lives would be ruined.
Her stomach had never hurt so badly in her life.
THIRTY-FOUR
AS JAMES WAS leaving that evening, Cornelia walked into Stafford House. "How did your day go, dear?"
"Very well." Pausing in the entrance hall, he shifted the picnic basket he was carrying. "I wasn't shorthanded today, so I was able to stop by Gillow's to see the bedroom furniture you and your sisters picked out. It looks fine."
"Good. I chose the fabrics this morning, and I have a painter coming by later this week. This is all coming together very quickly."
"Excellent," he told her. "I truly appreciate your help. Did your sisters enjoy today's sewing party?"
"Very much. They're looking forward to another one tomorrow." She reached up to smooth his hair, making him feel about six years old again. "I was surprised to learn this afternoon that you're going to the Physic Garden rather than Almack's."
He shrugged. "Lady Juliana and Lady Amanda said they'd prefer to visit the garden."
"You've been spending a lot of time with your lovely young ladies."
"They're not my ladies, Mother." He hoped Juliana was getting closer to becoming his lady—her reactions at the Panorama had been encouraging—but she wasn't his lady yet.
"Are you going to marry one of them?"
He leveled his gaze on her. "Are you going to marry Lord Cavanaugh?"
She blinked. "I'm not prepared to say. At the moment I'm just enjoying his company."
"Exactly." He bent to kiss her on the cheek. "Enjoy Almack's, will you?"
He whistled as he went out the door, whistled as his carriage made its way to Berkeley Square. Things were looking up. He might have just managed to get his mother off his back, and in any case, an hour from now he'd be kissing Juliana.
He stopped whistling out loud when his guests joined him in the carriage, of course, but he was still whistling in his head. And toying with the deck of playing cards he'd slipped into his pocket. It was nearly six o'clock by the time they reached Chelsea and alighted from the carriage on Swan Walk.
"Good evening," he said to the guard at the garden's entrance.
"Good evening, Lord Stafford." The man swung open the gate set into the old redbrick wall. "Sunset is at quarter to nine."
"The garden closes at sunset," James told his party. "Is Wheeler here?" he asked the guard.
"Not tonight. He left at four."
"Oh, that's a pity," James said, although it wasn't a pity at all. In fact, it was exactly what he was hoping to hear.
"Who is Wheeler?" Juliana asked as they walked in.
"Thomas Wheeler is the Physic Garden's Demonstrator. He's hired to explain the uses of the medicinal plants to visitors. I can do that, though." He led them along a tree-lined path to the center of the garden. "Would you all like a tour, or would you prefer to dine first?"
"I'm famished," Castleton said. "We can look at plants later."
James suspected the man didn't want to look at plants at all, which suited his plans just fine. He chose a grassy spot by the rockery and laid out a large blanket before opening the basket his servants had prepared. The duke and Lady Amanda hung back while James opened a bottle of wine and Juliana and her aunt unpacked cold chicken, bread, and cheese.
"I don't sit on the ground," Castleton said stuffily, taking his supper to a nearby bench.
What an ass, James thought for the umpteenth time.
Lady Amanda didn't seem to agree with his assessment, however. In fact, she appeared to breathe a sigh of relief. "Neither do I," she said and joined the ass.
"You should sit by her," Juliana whispered.
"There's no more room on the bench," James whispered back. Actually, there would have been room on the bench if the two of them weren't sitting primly spaced apart from each other.
