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Grace was about to ask what it was that Sir Stanpool did to be knighted, but she suddenly felt cold, bony fingers clasp around her wrist. She turned to the person who grabbed her, startled, and saw Aunt Tabitha. She looked as cold and terrifying as usual, dressed in the utmost finery.

“I see you did not choose one of the gowns I so painstakingly designed and ordered for you,” she said in a way of greeting, her icy blue eyes trained on Grace’s.

Grace was startled for a moment, but she grabbed a hold of herself and smiled as she pulled her hand out of the woman’s grip.

“Dear Aunt Tabitha, hello,” Grace greeted as warmly as she could. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting—”

“I have,” Aunt Tabitha replied coldly, her eyes trained on Grace. “Lovely to see you again, Mrs. Stanpool. But we require a moment to ourselves.”

“A pleasure as always,” Mrs. Stanpool replied in a dull, toneless voice. “It seems, Your Grace, that family matters are calling you. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Grace broke eye contact with Aunt Tabitha, turning just in time to see the look of unease on Mrs. Stanpool’s face.

“That was hardly kind,” Grace retorted, meeting Aunt Tabitha’s gaze once more.

“It is a common misconception that kindness and manners go hand in hand,” Aunt Tabitha replied rigidly. “For example, it is extremely poor manners to not wear what I had made for you. I told you the importance of a duchess’ fashion, yet you ignored me.”

“I did not ignore you,” Grace replied quickly. “I simply chose to wear a gown that my husband had made for me instead of yours.”

Aunt Tabitha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise for a moment before furrowing into a frown.

“Nathaniel had this made for you?” she demanded to know.

“And a couple of others as well,” Grace replied. “Both as lovely as this one.”

“Furthermore,” Grace continued, remembering Nathaniel’s words about her title, “I am a Duchess, whether you believe I am worthy of the title or not. But, if you are curious, I have learned my place quite well. I have hosted teas, I have been an exemplary guest, and I have shown kindness and caring to the villagers of Ninter.”

“And what of your own parties?” Aunt Tabitha asked quickly. “I’m sure they were sorely lacking.”

“Only because my husband has chosen not to host one yet,” Grace replied coolly, “but I assure you once he does, I will be happy to put all of my learning into the effort and make him proud.”

“Ah, I see that the two of you have found each other,” Nathaniel stated, entering the conversation.

Grace immediately felt a wave of relief as her husband joined her at her side. As she looked toward him, she immediately noticed that his hands were bare, and she had to stop herself from asking him where his gloves had gone.

“Good evening, dear Aunt?” Nathaniel asked Aunt Tabitha as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Your charming new bride was just telling me how well she’s stepped into her new role as duchess,” Aunt Tabitha explained icily, her smile as frigid as her tone.

“Ah,” Nathaniel retorted, seemingly unbothered by her menacing presence. “Yes, I do believe she is doing quite well. Well done on showing her a thing or two about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must introduce my bride to a few other people.”

Grace was stunned by Nathaniel’s support, so much so that she almost forgot to curtsey to Aunt Tabitha as he bowed. But she caught herself quickly and couldn’t help the smug smile on her face as she took one more look at Aunt Tabitha’s unhappy expression.

“So, dear husband, who are you taking me to meet next?” Grace asked as they walked away.

“I’m sure there are plenty of people I should introduce you to,” Nathaniel mused, staring at her amusedly as they walked, “but I just said that so that I could get you away from Aunt Tabitha. I know her facial expressions vary very little, but the look in her eyes was the same as when I brought in a mud pie to one of her tea parties. She was about to skin you alive.”

Grace couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled clearly out of her throat and laced her arm through Nathaniel’s.

“Was it a terrible punishment?” she inquired, loving that he was sharing this with her.

“Oh, absolutely dreadful,” he confessed. “I couldn’t sit down for a week.”

“Oh, my poor husband,” Grace giggled, trying to picture what a young Nathaniel had looked like.

“Yes, I very much could have used your sympathy back then,” he chuckled.

A pleasant silence fell between them as they strolled around the room. Occasionally, Nathaniel would see someone he knew and would introduce them to Grace. Each time he did, he was careful not to let anyone shake his hand, reminding her that his gloves had disappeared.