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“ Y our Grace, you have a visitor.”

Arabella looked up from the fire in surprise. She had been sitting here all morning in the sitting room, gazing into the flames, intermittently touching the emerald necklace she wore around her neck and trying to convince herself that she liked having it.

It was no easy task. The necklace was pretty, of course—it was beautiful—but she didn’t like to think about how much it must have cost William to buy it.

Even though he had offered to put her in charge of the books, she had felt it would be too awkward to ask for the price of this gift.

If he had wanted her to know, he would have told her when he had given it to her.

But how could she allow him to spend this kind of money on gifts for her? She didn’t need such lavish things—didn’t he realize that? Why had he believed she would?

Well, perhaps a visitor would take her mind off of all this. She looked up at the butler. “A visitor, Carson?”

“Two visitors, actually,” Carson corrected himself.

Arabella’s heart sank though she couldn’t have said exactly why.

But the butler’s next words confirmed her fears. “Lady Hawridge and Lady Whitehorn,” he said.

Beatrice and Grace . How perfectly dreadful.

Arabella certainly didn’t want to see either one of them—they would only make her feel worse.

But she could hardly turn them away. They already thought of her as someone very low, someone unworthy of her place in this house.

She couldn’t afford to risk proving them right. “Show them in,” she sighed.

Carson nodded and withdrew.

Arabella forced herself to sit up a little bit straighter. She did want to make a good impression on William’s cousins. As little as she liked them, she wanted them to think highly of her. It was a strange paradox.

They were shown into the room. Neither one of them made eye contact with her at first. They both took seats as if this was their house, facing the fire, and settled in. “Perhaps some tea?” Beatrice said to Carson.

Carson, to his credit, looked to Arabella. “Your Grace?”

“You don’t need to ask her,” Beatrice said sharply. “You’ve been given your orders.”

“Tea, please, Carson,” Arabella confirmed. “Thank you.”

Carson nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Arabella thought she heard one of the cousins snort, but perhaps she had imagined it, for neither of them made any further comment.

“So tell me,” Arabella said, shifting slightly in her chair, “what brings the two of you here? I trust you know that William is out of the house on business this afternoon as he often is.”

“Oh, we imagined he would be,” Beatrice replied. “We came to see you.”

“I thought you might have,” Arabella said. “What can I do for the two of you?”

“We didn’t like the way things were left after the dinner party the other night,” Grace explained.

“You know, it’s important, when any member of this family goes out in society, to make the right impression.

Now, you were only with us, so it’s all right.

You didn’t make too horrible an impression on anyone who really matters.

Well, there were a few other people at the dinner party, of course—but only our closest friends, and to be honest, they already expected the worst.”

“Did they, now?” Arabella kept her voice cool, but inside, her emotions were roiling. “I wonder why a bunch of people I didn’t know at all would expect the worst of me?”

In all actuality, this was unfair, for she had known Miss Alexandra before the dinner party, and it was no surprise at all that Miss Alexandra had thought badly of her.

But even so, Arabella didn’t think she was wrong to suppose that Beatrice and Grace had indulged in gossip about her.

They had never had a kind word to say to her face, after all, so why would she expect anything better when they spoke of her behind her back?

“She wasn’t that bad,” Grace spoke up.

This was the first real surprise of the day. Was Grace going to defend Arabella?

Grace continued. “She did have basic manners. Remember, we were concerned about that. We thought her conduct at the table might not be appropriate for society.”

Now, it was Arabella who snorted. “Pray, spare me,” she said.

“You thought what, that I wouldn’t know how to use a knife and fork?

Because my father doesn’t have money? You can’t truly believe that only the very wealthy know how to conduct themselves at the dinner table.

What a foolish idea. I knew the two of you were cruel, but I did at least credit you with being intelligent.

Now, I see that perhaps I was wrong to give you even that much credit. ”

“How can you speak to us like this?” Beatrice asked, lifting her eyebrows. “When we’ve done nothing but try our best to help you?”

“You can’t earnestly believe you’ve done anything that would be of help to me? All you ever do is find ways to criticize me for things that are beyond my control,” Arabella said. “Do you blame me for my father’s financial circumstances?”

“Of course, we don’t blame you for that,” Beatrice said. “But you might have at the very least made an effort to know your place. You might have tried to find a worthy match with someone of your own station in life. You didn’t need to entrap our cousin into a marriage he didn’t want.”

“I did no such thing,” Arabella snapped, but for the first time since they’d arrived, her voice trembled slightly. “I didn’t want this marriage. I never planned on it, and I never thought the Duke would propose. He’s the one who made the choice, not me.”

“At the very least, Miss Arabella, you could show us the respect of a little honesty,” Grace scolded.

Arabella couldn’t help noticing that they were still refusing to use her proper title.

If William had been here, she imagined he would have said something about that, but she didn’t feel up to the argument that would ensue. She decided to let it go.

“I’ve been honest,” she said instead.

“You don’t really expect us to believe that you had no aim of trapping our cousin in a marriage, do you?” Grace asked. “We know you did something to make him feel as if he had no choice. Now, you should thank us because we aren’t trying to talk him out of it.”

Arabella laughed. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that you didn’t try to talk him out of it before we said our vows,” she told them. “You two have done nothing but express your disapproval, right from the very start. Well, I’ve heard it, and so has William.”

“You ought to say His Grace ,” Grace said disapprovingly. “You ought to at least show respect for his title. Or haven’t you even been brought up with the manners to do such a simple thing as that?”

“Not once have you addressed me by my proper title,” Arabella pointed out.

“You sit here in my own home, and you refuse to show me the dignity I deserve as Duchess of Redmayne, and then you have the gall to question me about the way I choose to address my own husband? I know you can’t stand it.

I know you wish our marriage hadn’t happened.

But it did happen. I am the Duchess now, and I will refer to my husband in whatever manner the two of us decide is best for us—not according to what either of you believe we ought to do.

Now, tell me, what has brought you here today?

Was it just to revisit these same old grievances?

Because if it was, I think we can end our conversation, and you can go. ”

“You would dismiss us?” Beatrice asked, sitting forward.

“This is my house. I’ll dismiss anyone I like.”

“This isn’t your house,” Beatrice scoffed.

“I truly don’t know what could have given you the idea that the house belongs to you in any way.

The mere fact that you’re married to my cousin?

You may be his wife by law, but you’re no Duchess of Redmayne, Miss Arabella.

Nor could you ever be. William might be indulging you for reasons passing understanding, but Grace and I will never do the same.

We have expectations when it comes to this family.

We have standards. And you don’t meet those standards. You never could.”

“That’s right,” Grace agreed. “You’re not cut out to be a duchess, Miss Arabella.”

“I insist you stop calling me by a name that no longer applies,” Arabella said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. “If you can’t show me the respect I deserve then…”

“Deserve? No, Miss Arabella. The only thing you deserve is to be reminded how little you belong here,” Beatrice replied.

“Truly, we are doing you a kindness by simply telling you outright. It would be no better for you to attend some society event and be gossiped about by all in attendance—in fact, I think it would be far worse.”

“You only care that it would be worse for you if that were to happen,” Arabella said. “You don’t care about me at all.”

“To be sure, we care about how you reflect on the rest of the family,” Grace observed. “Miss Arabella, you mustn’t think that we say these things out of a desire to be cruel.”

“Oh no?” Arabella was doing all she could to hold herself steady, but shivers wracked her body.

She could hardly believe this was happening.

She had known these ladies didn’t like her, of course, and she was no stranger to the disdain of the ton.

That wasn’t the surprising part. No, what shocked her was the fact that they had the ability to upset her so much.

She had never imagined that words like these would affect her.

But they were.

Was it possible that, in spite of everything, she had begun to believe in this strange new life?

Could she have started to see herself as a duchess, worthy of all the respect that went along with that title?

Surely not—she knew what this marriage was.

She knew how seriously to take it. Wasn’t that part of the reason she’d been so uncomfortable with William’s gift to her?

Her fingertips found the emerald pendant.

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. “What is that ?” she demanded, focusing on the necklace. “Is that one of the late duchess’ jewels? Did you take it?”

“Of course not!” Arabella exclaimed, getting to her feet. “This was a gift.”

“And why would you wear such a thing on a day like this?” Grace demanded. “Don’t you know it’s not to be worn around the house? That sort of thing is for special occasions only! Does William know you have it?”

“William gave it to me.” Arabella’s fragile veneer was finally cracking. What did these two take her for?

“You should give it back to him at once,” Beatrice ordered. “Unless—were you trying to sell it? Is that what this is? Maybe you were going to go into town and?—”

“Enough.” Arabella’s voice shook, and she knew they could hear it, but she had to do this nonetheless. “Enough of the both of you. Get out of my house. I won’t have another moment of this. Go, or I’ll have you thrown out.”

The ladies stared at her. Then they got to their feet. “William will hear about how you’ve treated us,” Beatrice told her coldly.

Arabella couldn’t even find the words to express emotion about that. She stared into the fire and ignored the two of them as they showed themselves out.