After helping me into my gown, Betsy made a hasty exit to look after my aunt. Poor girl. I did not envy her position.
I left my room, taking my time to observe the corridors in the morning light as I passed through them. So intent was my gaze on one of the tap-estries that I almost ran into Robert outside the breakfast room. “Oh, excuse me.”
He looked away and swallowed, his posture stiff. “Pardon me, Juliet.”
A stab of pain slashed at me, for just a few weeks ago I would have told him everything and we would have unraveled last night’s odd encounter together. I ached to talk to him.
He still would not meet my gaze. “Your absence was noted last night.”
“I had one of my headaches,” I said. He knew my headaches came on when I couldn’t stand to be in his mother’s presence for another moment.
“Mother allows that to pass at home, but she will not tolerate that while we are here, among company. She won’t allow you to make a fool of her.”
Before I could respond, he pushed past me and went into the breakfast room. Dumbfounded, I stood by the door, dreading another meal of small talk among people I barely knew, with the one person who knew me best ignoring me.
Suppressing a frown, I pushed my shoulders back and followed Robert. He took a seat next to Hugh, the elder of my cousins. I perused the buffet table, piled high with eggs, toast, ham, fruit, and a dozen different pastries. The extravagance was difficult to fathom, especially compared to what I was used to at Lymington Park. After filling my plate, I took the open seat by Lady Ellen, the duke’s younger sister. Based on our brief interactions yesterday, I liked her already.
I took a moment to study her, searching for any resemblance she might share with the man I’d encountered last night. She had light-brown hair, a winsome smile, and eyes that were perhaps a little wide-set but of such a brilliant blue one barely noticed. She and the duke looked nothing alike. Indeed, had I not known the two were siblings, I would not have guessed them to be related.
“Good morning, Miss Graham,” she said, her tone cheerful and inviting. “Are you quite recovered from your headache?” Her concern seemed genuine.
I bit my cheek, grateful Aunt Agnes had made excuses for me, even if she was displeased about it. “Yes, thank you. Much better.”
“Oh good. I was disappointed we did not see you in the drawing room after dinner. I am afraid in your absence your poor cousins had to suffer through an entire hour of my playing the pianoforte.” She smiled coyly through her self-deprecation. “But I am happy to report that they endured it well.” Despite the directness of her manner, she put me at ease at once. I felt like her opposite in so many ways, yet I wondered if we might be friends; two weeks here would drag by without any female companionship.
She looked up, still speaking. “Lord Everdale and I are planning a walk through the gardens right after breakfast.”
To hear Hugh called Lord Everdale was always a surprise, for he was the boy who had teased me mercilessly the past nine years—behavior hardly befitting an earl. I glanced at him across the table. With his ruddy-cheeked grin and unruly dark hair, one could scarce imagine him marrying the younger sister of a duke.
As if he could sense my thoughts, Hugh looked up. “Juliet loves gardens, don’t you?”
I smiled through clenched teeth. “I adore them.” Nothing could be further from the truth, and we would have words later. I was not here to play chaperone in all his attempts to woo Lady Ellen. That was Aunt Agnes’s unenviable task.
Lady Ellen set her napkin on the table. “Then, it’s settled.” She turned to Robert, who had remained silent during this exchange. “Perhaps we could round it out to a foursome—would you like to join us as well, Mr. Nicholson?”
I held my breath, for I knew if Robert agreed, we would be partnered for the duration of the morning.
Hugh nodded, answering for him. “Of course he would. There’s nothing he’d like better.” Another lie. Hugh gave Lady Ellen his most charming smile, and if I could have reached, I would have kicked him under the table.
Everyone around me had already finished their breakfast, so I ate as quickly as was permitted for a lady of breeding and set my plate back, half untouched. “Shall we begin?” I asked, anxious to commence so it could be over. The morning loomed ahead, and I could only imagine how many infernal gardens a castle this size might hold.
As we exited the breakfast room, a footman approached me, a tray in hand. “There’s a letter for you, Miss Graham.”
I reached for it and smiled as I saw my name in Harry’s scrawl. It had been nearly two weeks since I’d heard from him, and I was anxious to read his missive. But with everyone waiting for me, I could hardly take the time now. I tucked it into my pocket, planning to read it as soon as I had a moment alone.
It took us almost five minutes to make our way to the back doors and down the steps. I shook my head in wonder at the enormity of Shaldorn Castle. Thank goodness I’d worn practical shoes this morning.
Lady Ellen paused and turned to me. “I’m afraid autumn is not the best time of year to enjoy the gardens, but is there something you particularly enjoy? We have quite a variety.”
Put on the spot as I was, my mind went blank. “Well, um, I have always enjoyed hedgerows . . .” The ridiculousness of my statement was not lost on me, and I shot Hugh
