“Oh, I don’t mind. Teasing is a welcome relief. I’ve longed for company ever since we returned from London at the close of the Season. Mother and Grandmother are always bickering, vying for supremacy. And Halstead, who used to put them in their place, has remained maddeningly absent since his accident.” She pulled the needle through her own sampler with a quick tug. “You’ve no idea what a shock it was to see him at dinner last night. And in only a moderately foul mood. Perhaps it was something Mother said during their quarrel.”
The mention of last night brought back the wave of uncertainty I’d endured the prior evening. My stomach fluttered, recalling my fear when the duke had called me over. Yet he’d let my behavior pass. His dark, brash eyes had all but robbed me of the ability to speak, filled as they were with something I had yet to decipher. Intrigue? Irritation? Or perhaps scorn? I couldn’t begin to guess.
“I’m sorry. I’ve said too much, haven’t I?” Lady Ellen said.
My head whipped up. “Not at all,” I reassured her. “Families are complicated at best. Why, after our three-hour carriage ride here, I was quite prepared to disown both of my cousins. Though, if you are inclined toward Hugh at all, perhaps I’ll hold off.” Staring down at my sampler, I realized my last few stitches were uneven. I grunted in frustration.
Lady Ellen glanced over at her mother, keeping her voice low. “It is strange, I admit. While my mother never said as much, I’d be a fool not to know the purpose for which you were invited as our houseguests. I had rather set my mind against your cousin . . .”
“But?” I prodded. The more time I spent with Lady Ellen, the more certain I was that we would remain friends no matter what happened between her and Hugh.
“But he is nothing like I expected, not nearly as stoic or staid as some of the other earls and barons Mother has introduced me to.” She gave me a genuine smile. “What is he like at home?”
I shot her a pointed look. “Think for a moment about whether you really wish me to answer truthfully.” I turned back to my needlework, holding it toward the light of the window.
“Oh yes.” Lady Ellen moved to the edge of her seat. “Do tell.”
I looked up, thoroughly enjoying her attentiveness. “Hugh . . . well, he detests serious conversation. That is not to say he’s incapable of it, only that he avoids it whenever possible.” Warming to the subject, I licked my lips. “He prefers to make a joke of everything. Why, we’ve rarely talked of anything of consequence in the nine years I’ve lived at Lymington Park. For the first few years I lived there I was subject to the most horrendous pranks and what felt like endless teasing. Thankfully, that stage came to an end. At least, the pranks.”
Lady Ellen smiled. “You’ve piqued my curiosity, Miss Graham, not quelled it.”
“What are you speaking of?” the dowager asked, cutting into our conversation.
The duchess’s head lifted. “Yes, do tell.”
Lady Ellen sucked in her cheeks, all trace of her earlier merriment erased. “Miss Graham was just telling me of the journey here,” she said, lying effortlessly.
Aunt Agnes nodded. “There is an easy distance between our estates, which you’ll allow is very fortunate.”
“Yes, indeed,” Lady Ellen agreed. “No more than the course of an afternoon.”
After that, we were pulled into a conversation with the others, in which weather and fashion were the topics of choice. My eyes grew heavy with boredom, and my needlework lay in my lap, forgotten. When Aunt Agnes stood, signaling our exit, I had to mask my relief. As soon as we left the room, Aunt Agnes reached for my embroidery. I handed over my canvas, wincing as she frowned over the uneven stitches I’d forgotten to remedy.
“What will they think of us, Juliet, when you cannot even stitch properly? Your failings reflect on me, and I’ll not allow it. Nothing can put Hugh’s chances at risk.” She kept her voice low, but there was a menacing tone to her words. “You may do nothing else until you have redone these stitches and they have met with my approval.”
My fingers were sore and my back ached, but it would be fruitless to argue. Instead I gave Aunt Agnes what she wanted: submission. I bit my tongue and nodded before finding a quiet corner where I could curse aloud every time I poked my finger.
It was almost three hours later before I could claim victory. I approached Aunt Agnes with my embroidery after changing out of my dress. Perhaps my riding habit would serve as a subtle reminder that I had a prior engagement. Hopefully she would overlook any imperfections in my stitching in favor of my being on time.
Her brows furrowed as she studied my work. “Has it taken you this entire time?” she asked with an air of impatience.
I nodded meekly, not trusting myself to speak. My tongue had been far too rebellious of late.
Aunt Agnes shook her head. “This is something you should have mastered years ago, Juliet. Yet, despite all my efforts, you are still behind.” She clucked with disapproval as she handed the offending embroidery back to me. “Keep your behavior in check, and give Hugh as much time as possible with Lady Ellen. I am pleased you are becoming friends with her, but I won’t have you monopolizing her as you did this morning.”
I gave a brief curtsy, murmuring, “Yes, Lady Everdale.” No sense in giving her further opportunity to berate me.
Once I reached the stairs, I scampered down them as quickly as I dared without fear of tripping on my riding habit. I’d almost reached the bottom when a shrill voice rang out from above me. “Juliet, mind yourself!”
I glanced up. Aunt Agnes glared down at me from the top of the banister. Before I could answer her,
