Lady A's sisters reached for their reticules as Alexandra lifted baby Harry out of his pram. "Yes, we will," they all confirmed in unison.
Aunt Frances pushed slowly to her feet. "Yes, we will," she echoed, sounding a little bit breathless.
Apparently noticing that, Juliana laid a hand on her arm. "Are you feeling poorly, Aunt Frances?"
"No, just fat and ugly and short of breath. My friend Lady Mabel swears this city isn't good for the lungs once a lady reaches a certain age, but then again, she has asthma." Frances laughed. "I'm only with child."
Elizabeth grabbed her cloak, but as it was a warm day she didn't put it on. "Our mother always said that about the London air, too. But I don't remember her ever having any trouble breathing."
"That's because she refused to come to London," Claire said, and turned to Juliana. "I hope you put those extra tea buns in the basket for us. Mama used to make them, but we haven't had them in years."
"I figured as much." Juliana handed her the basket. Leaving Corinna and Alexandra behind, she started walking the rest of her guests toward the door. "Your mother copied the recipe into our family cookbook. She said the tea buns encourage serenity."
"Is that why you made them?" Rachael asked. "Do you think Corinna feels a need for serenity?"
Before Corinna could go after them and speak for herself, Juliana answered. "Of course she feels a need for serenity. Her entire future hangs in the balance!"
Corinna heard everyone laugh before they said their good-byes. Then she heard the door shut, and Juliana returned to the Palm Room.
Going to a sideboard that had gilt legs carved to look like palm trees, Juliana poured three glasses of sherry before joining her sisters on one of the many sofas covered in palm tree-themed satin fabric. "Here," she said, handing Corinna a glass. "I expect you'll find this encourages serenity much more than tea buns."
Corinna sipped gratefully. "I didn't expect to be nervous about this reception."
"That's natural," Alexandra said, shifting Harry in order to take a sip.
"And you're nervous about something else, too." Juliana crossed her legs. "I can tell. Out with it, Corinna."
They knew her too well; there was no sense pretending. She sighed. "I have a secret."
Her sisters exchanged meaningful glances. "Well?" Alexandra asked.
"Lord Lincolnshire's nephew isn't John Hamilton," Corinna confessed in a rush. "I mean, John Hamilton is his nephew, but the man you met at Lady Partridge's ball isn't. He's his brother-in-law. He wanted to tell Lord Lincolnshire the truth, but I convinced him not to, and now I'm not sure that was right."
"Whoa." Juliana's sip of sherry was more like a gulp. "Explain that again. Slowly, and with more detail."
Corinna did so, telling the whole long complicated story. Then she held her breath before asking, "Was I wrong? Should he tell Lord Lincolnshire the truth?"
Juliana shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"I agree." Alexandra patted her son's back. "Lord Lincolnshire deserves a happy ending."
Corinna blew the breath out. "You're right. I love Lord Lincolnshire."
"So do we," Alexandra assured her.
"I'm going to visit him more often. I promised Mr. Delaney I would, to help him keep up the pretense that he's an artist."
"You'll get to see more of Mr. Delaney that way too, hmm?" Juliana's eyes danced. "That shouldn't be a hardship."
Alexandra looked to Corinna. "She's meddling again, isn't she?"
"Doesn't she always?"
"I can tell you're attracted to the man," Juliana said defensively. "And I cannot say I blame you. He's a handsome devil—"
"You're a married woman!" Corinna interrupted.
"A very happy one," her sister agreed. "But a lady doesn't go blind when she takes her marriage vows. Or deaf, either. That accent—"
"You make him sound like a pretty box. You know nothing about the man inside." Neither did she, for that matter.
"I know he's being very nice to Lord Lincolnshire. And that his sister is married to John Hamilton, which means he's connected to the right people."
"He's not a peer, Juliana. He owns property."
"Doesn't every gentleman own property?"
"I mean he buys and sells buildings for a living. Among other things." She wondered what. "And he's Irish." With that Irish accent. She'd gone back to the bookstore to buy Children of the Abbey this morning, and she'd already read up to page 43, where Amanda thought, the harmony of his voice imparted a charm that seldom failed of being irresistible.
"Does his being Irish bother you?" Juliana asked.
"Of course not." Just thinking of that melodic Irish voice made her imagine hot kisses, which hardly bothered her. Well, maybe it did, but not in the way her sister meant. "But it might bother Griffin."
"Griffin would be a hypocrite if it did," Juliana scoffed. "His own name comes from an Irish ancestor."
"That's right," Alexandra put in. "Our fifth or sixth or seventh great-grandfather, wasn't he? Aidan Griffin, Baron Kilcullen from Ballygriffin, Ireland. Born 1568, died 1648 at Cainewood."
"How do you remember such things?" Corinna asked.
"Family is important to me." She smiled at little Harry, who was named after her husband's uncle. "Besides, you remember every word you've ever read."
"That's different. I can't help it. And I don't even like it. My brain is always filled with all those stupid lines." She sighed. "In any case, I'm not interested in Mr. Delaney that way." Maybe for a few kisses, but that was a far cry from what Juliana had in mind. "I have only seventeen days left to finish my portrait. And spend some time with Lord Lincolnshire while I still can."
Juliana nodded so thoughtfully that Corinna could almost see the scheming going on in her head. She hadn't given up. But apparently she'd decided to back off for now. "I think that's very kind of you," she said. "You should bring Lord Lincolnshire a sweet to brighten his last days."
"Corinna doesn't bake," Alexandra reminded her.
Corinna couldn't bake. The women of their family
