"I expect you'll find that to be a valid reason for me to object to your marrying my daughter," Wolverston added as he went out the door.
For the next few moments, silence reigned.
"He didn't eat my wafers," Juliana finally whispered. "They were supposed to make him reasonable."
"They wouldn't have made a difference." James wrapped an arm around her shoulders—an arm that felt heavy as lead.
He glanced from her stunned face to the others. Castleton no longer looked formidable; instead, he looked as though he might crumple like that piece of paper. Lady Amanda had crumpled. In the shocked silence that had followed her father's confession, she'd folded back onto her chair and lowered her head to her lap.
"Gracious me," she breathed now, the words muffled in her skirts. "I cannot marry my brother."
"He said I might be his son," Castleton pointed out. But his voice sounded defeated.
"You and Amanda's father are both blond and blue-eyed," Juliana observed wanly.
There was no need for her to point out that Lady Amanda had blue-gray eyes and blond hair as well. Or that everyone had always known his natural father hadn't been the Duke of Castleton. The expression on his face made it clear he was all too aware of those facts.
He shifted uneasily. "Hair and eye color are hardly proof of paternity," he mumbled, sounding less sure of himself by the moment.
But it was more than coloring. Now that the possibility had been raised, James realized Castleton looked much more like Wolverston than the man's daughter did. It was something in the line of the jaw, something in the tilt of the head, something in the length of the nose. Something about the stiff carriage and the lack of stature.
Something twisted in James's gut.
"The thought of you two marrying now…" Swallowing hard, Juliana put a hand to her middle. "It makes me feel slightly ill."
"It makes me feel very ill," Lady Amanda muttered into her lap. She slowly lifted her head, looking very ill indeed. Avoiding Castleton's eyes, she gazed unfocused at James. "We shall have to marry—"
"There's still Lord Malmsey," Juliana cut in.
She was grasping at straws, and broken ones at that. His gut now sinking as well as twisted, James moved to face her and took both her hands. "Lady Amanda can no longer wed Lord Malmsey, my love. She's been publicly disgraced. Under the circumstances, Lord Malmsey is perfectly within his rights to terminate the engagement, and furthermore, he wishes to wed Lady Frances. You wouldn't want to see him ripped from your aunt's side, would you?"
She shook her head, tears glazing her suddenly green eyes. "No," she whispered.
He gathered her close, knowing it would be for the last time. Much as he hated tears, he wanted to cry with her. He would cry with her if he could.
But he felt dead inside. Sinking and twisted and dead.
There was no way out. He had to marry Lady Amanda.
He had to marry Lady Amanda.
He had to marry Lady Amanda.
No matter how many times he repeated the fact to himself, it seemed impossible to believe.
Impossible to accept.
But he had to.
Slowly he released Juliana, thinking it was the hardest thing he'd ever done…
…but not as hard as it would be to say "I will" to someone else.
"I'm going home," he said. "I'll be back Saturday at noon."
FORTY-FIVE
CHOCOLATE CREAM
Take a Quart of Cream, a Pint of white Wine, and a little Juice of Lemon; sweeten it very well, lay in a sprig of Rosemary, grate some Chocolate, and mix all together; stir them over the Fire till it is thick, and pour it into your cups.
Chill your cups in ice before serving. A delicious cure for melancholy.
—Belinda, Marchioness of Cainewood, 1792
"WHY ARE YOU so sad, Lady Juliana?"
"I'm not sad, Emily." Sad was much too mild a word to describe how Juliana felt the next day. "You're doing very well. Keep mixing."
The little girl looked up from the cast-iron stove in Juliana's basement kitchen. "You look sad." Stirring with one hand, she stroked the snake draped over her shoulders with the other. "Herman, don't you think Lady Juliana looks sad?"
Juliana half expected the reptile to answer, considering nothing else in her life was going as expected. A talking snake would be less of a surprise than Lord Wolverston's revelation last night.
And James's reaction to it.
He'd left. He'd held her for a moment, but then he'd left. He'd apparently come to the conclusion that he had to marry Amanda, and accepted it, and just…left.
By all appearances, he had no intention of discussing this tragedy. He'd said he'd be back on Saturday. He'd made up his mind, and he wasn't planning to see her again until he was a married man.
If then.
She sighed and began grating chocolate into the triple batch of cream and sugar that Emily was stirring in the pot. "I haven't seen you in quite a few days, Emily."
"A new family moved in across the square. Lord and Lady Lambourne. And they have three children. Three girl children."
Another surprise. Juliana usually knew everything that went on in Mayfair. Evidently she'd been a tad preoccupied of late. "What are the girls' names, then?"
"Jane, Susan, and Kate. Susan is just my age."
"That must be lovely for you." She kept grating. "And what do the Lambourne girls think of Herman?"
"Oh, they find him bang up to the mark," Emily said enthusiastically.
Usually Juliana would have smiled at the girl's use of the newest slang. But she was too dejected. Not to mention this news didn't bode well for the success of her project to rid Emily of the horrid creature.
Emily stirred faster. "You're putting an awful lot of chocolate in, aren't you?"
"One can never have too much chocolate," Juliana said.
So what if she'd added twice as much as usual? She needed chocolate. Her mother had always said
