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“Ignore them,” he said quietly. “They don’t know you.”

Juliet nodded. “Thank you.”

“I have some friends you should meet,” he pointed out. “They always come around the house, so you might want to become acquainted with them sooner rather than later.”

As he led her through the crowd, Juliet’s thoughts swirled. Her duties as a wife had followed seamlessly on the heels of her nuptials, and the responsibilities attached to her new life were coming to light very quickly.

“There’s the couple! Greetings to the Duke and his bride, the Duchess of Islington.” A man cheered, stopping them in the center of the grand hall. “I must commend you on how graceful you look when compared to your rogue husband, Your Grace.”

Hector shook his head. “Please refrain from sugarcoating anything around my wife,” he said. “Limit that to Emma.”

If Juliet noticed that Hector had now called her his wife on two occasions, she didn’t say anything. She focused with rapt attention on the sweet man before them, whose face was adorned with a beatific smile. A lady whom Juliet assumed to be his wife joined their small group with a chuckle.

“Your Grace, congratulations,” the lady greeted.

“Thank you. How are your little ones?” asked Hector.

“We could not risk bringing along the troublesome darlings. It is probably for the best, lest they ruin your wonderful day with crying fits.”

Hector nodded and turned to his new bride. “This is Marcus Steward, Marquess of Elwike. My cousin and good friend…”

“And business associate,” Marcus chimed in.

“Marcus, let His Grace do the introductions,” the lady cautioned her husband, lovingly circling her arm into his.

Juliet instantly liked the couple and could sense the love flowing between them. She had been a great believer in love since an early age but knew better than to wish for the same in her arranged marriage.

“Yes. Thank you, cousin,” the Duke glared at his friend. “And this is Lady Elwike, his wife and the lovely woman who has somehow tolerated him all these years,” Hector introduced.

“Please, call me Emma,” Lady Elwike requested with a sweet smile.

“Only if you call me Juliet,” the Duchess smiled back.

As the introductions continued, Juliet felt a mixture of emotions. The weight of her new role was daunting, but Hector’s steady presence beside her provided her with a surprising degree of solace. She realized that, despite her uncertainty and fear, that sense of comfort was something to hold on to.

Perhaps, given enough time, Hector and I could also build something meaningful together, a friendship and companionship based upon trust and mutual respect. I can hope for that.

The balance of the reception passed in a whirlwind of conversations and good wishes. During the course of the evening, Juliet artfully concealed her lack of experience and gracefully handled the social affair through Hector’s quiet guidance.

As the night drew to a close, Hector took her hand. “It is time to leave,” he said gently.

Juliet nodded, relieved and apprehensive at the same time. “I’ll just bid my family farewell…” she said and stopped to look around for them, but there was no one in sight.

Hector said nothing as he helped Juliet into the carriage and stepped in behind her. Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed across the cobblestones as someone approached their carriage in an obvious hurry.

“Juliet,” Lord Campton said, his voice trembling slightly. “I… I wanted to say goodbye properly.”

Juliet stiffened, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and his unexpected show of emotion. She had been prepared for a quick departure when nobody was there to bid her farewell, but here he was, standing before her, vulnerable in a way she had rarely seen.

Hector helped her out of the carriage and stepped aside to give them privacy.

“Father,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “It’s…”

He cut her off, “You are a Duchess now. Remember that.”

Juliet felt a bout of conflicting emotions. She was angry, grieving, and amidst all that, longing for the father she had lost long before her mother’s death.

She took a deep breath to clear her head. “Farewell.”