“Girls!”

Catherine kept her eyes firmly closed. “I thought Mama was visiting with Mrs. Langley.”

Emma picked up her pack of cards and started shuffling them. Julia ignored Emma. If any of them gave her attention, they would have to take part in one of the latest tricks she had learned. And learned was putting it strongly. As hard as Emma tried, she had yet to get one right.

Still, at least it was better than singing. Before their oldest sister had married, Emma was writing her own songs and had been determined she was going to be the best singer in all of England. Cards were at least a little better than Emma’s constant warbling and terrible lyrics.

Of course, the card tricks would not last long. Emma would be onto the next hobby in a couple of weeks and they would have to suffer something else. Why she would not find one passion and stick to it, Julia did not know.

“Girls!”

Julia pushed up from her spot in the garden where she had been lounging on a blanket on the grass while Emma sat on the bench under the apple tree and Catherine lay next to her, her arms above her head, her eyes firmly shut.

Catherine cracked an eye open. “I suppose we had better see what she wants.”

“She probably wants to scold me about the mud prints but I thought Mrs. Riley had cleaned them,” Julia said, grimacing.

“Poor Mrs. Riley.” Catherine laughed. “I’d fear a scolding from her more than Mama.”

“She did give me a telling off and I offered to clean them up but she refused. I think she likes to play the martyr.” Julia stood and held out a hand to Catherine. “Come on, let us see what she wants.”

“After we’re done, I can show you this trick,” Emma added.

Catherine rolled her eyes. “Will you get it right this time?”

“I do get them right,” Emma insisted. “You just keep choosing the wrong cards.”

Julia said nothing. As with all of Emma’s hobbies, they just had to keep their mouths shut until it passed. Or at least that’s what their oldest sister Amelia always said.

They went indoors to find their mother in the parlor room. Mrs. Riley had already served up tea and cakes, and Mama was merrily stuffing a cream scone into her mouth while she waited for them.

“There you are,” she said through a mouthful of cream.

“What brings you home so early, Mama?” Julia asked, sitting opposite on the chaise.

The second parlor room of Luckington Grange was smaller than the first but they preferred it for relaxing in. Evidence of all the women lingered here, from Emma’s discarded music to Julia’s recent plant clippings, and Catherine’s telescope. Even a few of Amelia’s books were still scattered around. It was less formal and certainly not suitable for entertaining guests but she loved the room. Many happy memories of playing in here with her sisters remained, even though two of them were now married.

Her mother finished her mouthful. “I visited with Amelia...oh goodness, can you believe she is now married? I never thought it. Who would have thought a viscount would want a redheaded, freckled wife? Especially after the disaster with Cousin Bess. Your father’s business will certainly benefit from the new connections.”

Julia bit her tongue. All of them apart from Lavinia—who was married and living in Scotland now—were redheaded and freckled. Although Amelia was the most freckled off them all. Unlike their mother who was fair and buxom, the rest of the Chadwick girls had been unfortunate enough to inherit their father’s gangly body and coloring. Lavinia had been the lucky odd one out.

And the Cousin Bess disaster was so long ago and yet their Mama forever blamed their terrible reputation on it. The spring after Bess had run off with a vicar’s son, they had gone to Town and been quite the talk of London. That combined with her and her sisters’ bluestocking tendencies made them quite ineligible for anyone. Not that Julia cared.

She was so happy for Amelia, though. If anyone deserved true love, it was her. She had been in love with Nicholas for most of her life and after years of looking after them all and keeping them in line, Julia was thrilled Amelia had someone who could help her have a little fun.

“I wish you’d said, Mama,” Emma complained. “I would have liked to have seen her. I could have shown her my latest trick.” Emma went to shuffle the cards she cradled in her hands and several flew from her grip and scattered across the floor.

“Oh, do be careful, Emma.” Mama waved a dismissive hand. “You can visit with Amelia whenever you wish. She is only a few miles down the road but you three were all busy doing whatever it is that you do. Besides, sometimes a mother needs time alone with her married daughter.” She gave a little sniff. “I do miss her so. And with your father gone on business for months at a time, I am all alone.”

Catherine came behind her mother and gave her a little squeeze. “You are not alone, Mama, you still have us horrible girls. And we shall likely never get married.”

Mama smiled. Despite her constant complaints about their redheadedness and how they were far too intellectually curious—utter bluestockings in their mother’s words—she loved them all in her own way. As for their father, work kept him busy but he looked after them well, giving them everything they could ever need, even if it meant the occasional missed season in London—not that any of them were too bothered by that.

She patted Catherine’s hand. “Well, firstly, Amelia and Nicholas are having a garden party in four days’ time.”

“What’s the occasion?” Julia asked.

Mama shrugged. “Your sister is an important person now. She must entertain regularly.”

Catherine came around the sofa and threw herself down next to Julia. “If I know Amelia, she would rather be writing or throwing herself in rivers.”

“Throwing herself in rivers? What nonsense!” their mother scoffed.

Emma and Julia laughed. Their mother had little idea that Amelia had risked her life to save Nicholas not long ago. And that was the way they would keep it. She would likely have a heart attack if she knew. As for Amelia’s writing. Well, as far as Julia knew, the novels were still coming but they were not of the same vein as before. No more heartbreak for Amelia’s characters.

“Anyway, we are all invited and it should be an excellent opportunity to meet new people,” Mama continued.

“What new people?” Catherine demanded.

“The new duke of course. Though”—Mama leaned in as though telling a great secret—”be wary, girls. I ran into Mr. Green this morning and he said this Lord Weston was seen fighting in The King’s Crown only yesterday!”

Julia shook her head. “Why would a duke be fighting?”

“Mr. Green says Miss Georgina Finlay, who is cousins with Harry—you know the lad with the curly fair hair and that awful podgy nose—heard that he is a gambler and…” Mama lowered her voice. “And he is known for bedding women. Apparently, he moved here to escape debts and a few angry husbands.”

“You should know better than to listen to gossip, Mama,” Catherine said, but appeared as eager as their mother was to hear more.

“I have it on very good authority,” she said, back straight. “Also, I hear that he is in such dire debt that he is looking to make more money from his new land.”

Julia frowned. “If he is in such financial straits, why buy Harburgh?”

“Who knows?” Mama reached for another scone and slathered cream onto it. “You know how these men are. They like to keep up appearances even if they are gambling wastrels.” She licked a little cream from her finger. “I hear he has a brother too. Much younger than him. The duke only inherited by way of his uncle. Not even a direct heir. According to Georgina, he is devastatingly handsome and the younger brother will be one day too.”

Catherine snorted. “Georgina Finlay thinks everyone is handsome.”

Mama shook her head. “Oh no, I heard it in Town too, a few years ago. Never met the man, though. Dark hair, blue eyes, tall and strong.”

Julia sucked in a slow breath.

“It is said he is looking to build a flour mill down by the riverside. You should know the spot, Julia. You are always down there looking at...” Mama frowned. “Badgers?”

“Otters,” Julia said vaguely.

Oh dear lord. She had argued with the duke. It had to have been him. She had never seen him before and he fit the description. Not to mention she had been on the land that belonged to Harburgh, the house that this mysterious new duke had bought.

“Well, there shall be some complaints about that.” Her mother slumped back against the chair and nibbled on the scone. “Though it shall bring some work to the area and I am sure there will be a few who are pleased.”

Not Julia, though. Not when he was planning to build where the otters were. A mill would destroy their home. He would know that now too. Wretched man. Not only was he utterly arrogant and rude but he was intending to destroy the otters’ habitat too.

Perhaps he would change his mind now he knew there were animals living there but she doubted it. Her first impression of him had been correct if the rumors were true, and she could not see why they would not be. A gambler and a womanizer—yes that description fitted him perfectly.

“Who wants to see my latest card trick?” Emma asked hopefully.

Catherine glanced around. “I need to sleep. I was up all night.” She leaped up from the chaise and out of the room in a flurry of skirts.

“Look, Julia, you’ll be amazed,” Emma insisted.

Julia turned in her chair with a sigh and a false smile. The last thing she wanted to do was watch her sister’s failed tricks. No, she needed to persuade this arrogant duke not to build a mill and harm those otters. How persuasive she could be against a man like that, however, she did not know. But perhaps with her sisters’ help, she could stop him. She could only hope, after all.