A Duke for Her Willful Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

“Brother, if you are any slower I shall be able to do another two laps before you complete a single one!”

Harriet Lockwood yelped with laughter, her horse racing through the grounds as her brother William’s remained rather far behind. That always happened when she decided, mid-ride, that she felt competitive that day.

They were on the outskirts of their family’s estate, and as it had been raining often, the ground remained quite wet. Mud splattered her ginger curls and streaked her face, but she wiped her green eyes and continued on her way, determined.

“Harriet,” her brother called after her. “You promised me that you would not do this!”

She knew what she would be faced with by the end of their race. His chestnut hair would be a mess, and his usual warm brown eyes would be wild, glaring at her and reminding her that at almost twenty years of age, he expected more of her. She would then sigh and laugh, and it would all be forgotten about. It happened often enough.

As always, she won the race. She waited for a while for her brother to join her before climbing down. Harriet landed rather heavily, her feet slipping in the mud. She fell to the ground, dirt covering her gown in such a way that she knew it was ruined completely. However, it only made her laugh all the more.

“Harriet!” William scolded. “What have I told you about being so reckless? You could have been hurt.”

“Yes, I know. I shall not do it again.”

“Do you think that I am a fool?”

“Would you like my response to be honest or kind?”

He sighed, extending a hand to help her to her feet. She waited for his face to change as usual, but it did not happen. He continued to appear angry with her, and though she was quite certain that it would not last long she was unsettled by it.

She climbed back onto her horse, and her brother did the same. They made their return home Harriet not quite able to remove the smile from her face.

“This is serious, Harriet,” he continued. “Your behavior is appalling. I can turn a blind eye when we are at home, but with the upcoming London Season it is time for you to change.”

“You and I both know that is not possible.”

“You will have to find a way to make it so. No respectable gentleman will ever want a wife who behaves so improperly. They will not accept it.”

“I disagree. Besides, even if that were the case, I would not change myself. I will not pretend to be someone else just to impress a gentleman. You know as well as I do that gentlemen never do the same.”

“Of course we do. We play the part of the perfect husband, and it is only fair that you play the part of the perfect wife.”

“Then you shall have to become accustomed to such wild injustices. I am not changing, William, no matter how much you wish that I would.”

“If that is what you want, then I cannot stop you, but you must remember that it is not only your own reputation that you risk, but also that of our family. You know as well as I do that our reputation is everything, especially now.”

It silenced her quickly. Her brother knew that it was the one thing that stopped her from taking things too far, and as always it had worked. They continued home in silence, and once they returned, she walked to the door without saying a word.

“Ah, there you are!” their butler greeted brightly before looking at Harriet’s gown in surprise. “Miss, you might wish to change, and quickly. His Grace, Edward Sinclair, Duke of Windham and Lady Margaret are here.”

Her heart dropped. Not Edward, she whined to herself, not now.

“They are in the drawing room,” he continued, William making his way there in an instant. “Your parents and Henry are hosting them as it stands.”

Harriet nodded gratefully before making her way to her bedchambers, trying with everything in her not to be caught.

She had been enamored by Edward Sinclair since the day they met. She was high in the air that day, having climbed the tallest tree on the estate, and he was laughing brightly at her. William had been furious, as his friend’s attention had been stolen away by his sister, a common occurrence, but Harriet had not noticed that at the time. Instead, she was captivated by Lord Windham dark hair, which perfectly fell into his deep-set gray-blue eyes. He was older than her, tall and muscular with broad shoulders and a devilish grin that almost caused her to fall from the tree altogether.

She saw more of him as years passed, and she was always quick with a joke, but he hardly ever did more than smile at her. He was a reserved boy, and then a reserved man, and though she thought he found her charming, she never assumed anything further. She was his friend’s sister, nothing more, and it was better that way. It allowed her brother to have something for himself, and though he never said as much, Harriet knew that he was grateful for that.

She crept past the large oak door that led to the drawing room and made her way to the stairs. However, as she did so, the door in front of her swung open and out stepped that familiarly large figure, the same one that she had looked at for years when she thought nobody was watching.

She almost crashed into him completely and ruined his clothes in the same way she had done her own. She looked up at him, aware that she was flushed and unkempt, and wondered just how he managed not to recoil.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Good morning, Lady Harriet.”

His tone was, as always, measured and collected. He was the very picture of a patient man, but Harriet saw through it. She saw the way his eyes glanced down to her, eyeing the dirt coating her gown.

Suddenly, she did not feel very clever at all.

“What brings you here?” she asked clumsily, turning scarlet.

“Margaret and I came to see yourself and William. With the upcoming Season, we will be seeing less of one another with the exception of events. I know that I will be busy chaperoning Margaret, for example.”

“Yes, and I shall be spending countless hours at the pianoforte, perfecting my skills.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Harriet, you have always hated the pianoforte.”

“Ah, you caught me there,” she laughed softly. “It is true that I have very little interest in it, but I suppose with everything expected of me, I ought to try it again. A husband would not like me to be lacking.”

“Not you, too,” he groaned. “Must each friend I have be turned into a prim and proper member of the nobility?”

“It is time for me to grow up,” she whispered.

“Certainly not. Of all people, you should know that that is a ridiculous rule.”

“Then would you have a lady like me as a wife?” she asked. “If it is so important to be your true self, that is.”

The words had left her before she could stop herself. The thought had, of course, crossed her mind many times when she was lost in herself, and she had always hoped (perhaps in vain) that he might have done the same thing. He chuckled, looking at her warmly.

“When I take a wife, I will expect her to have certain qualities, yes, but that is because my wife will be a duchess. When it comes to my friends, and you should know that I include you in that, I would prefer them to be who they truly are. I have enough members of the ton pretending to be someone they are not simply because they wish to please me.”

A friend. She was a friend to him. She scolded herself for believing that she could ever have been anything more than that when she was a rebellious and spirited woman and he was a Duke.

“Then you will be happy to know that I do not pretend for your sake. Nor mine, for that matter.”

“No,” he smiled. “And you never have. Good day, Lady Harriet.”

He left her in the hallway, and having been seen, it was far easier to escape to her bedchambers.

It could have been worse; he could have been a potential suitor that had been horrified and ran away, but Harriet still felt her heart race in her chest.

She should have been pleased that a Duke referred to her as his friend. Many gentlemen saw her as a friend, and she was well-liked among them, but they never seemed able to see her as anything more. She never cared about that, for she did not want to take any of the gentlemen she knew as a husband, but it was different when it came to Edward.

He was the older brother of her best friend, and she had admired him for years, but when he saw her as a friend, one that he could never picture marrying, it pained her. It almost made her wish that she was the perfect lady. One that could keep her thoughts to herself, smile and wave her fan politely, and enrapture gentlemen, converting each one to a suitor.

“You seem out of sorts,” Margaret noted, when Harriet had arrived. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, yes,” she nodded hastily, pouring the tea that had doubtlessly been sitting there. “I simply had something happen this morning.”

“Was that something to do with horses?”

“How did you know?”

“I heard your brother telling mine about it. Something about you being reckless and out of control.”

It was easy for Margaret to laugh at Harriet’s antics. Margaret was the very opposite of Harriet: graceful and elegant, with honey-blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a composed beauty that suited her position as a noblewoman. At twenty-one years of age, she was sharp, empathetic, and more observant than most gave her credit for, but that was to be expected when her mother was as rigid as she was. Sometimes, she actually envied her friend for that, and wished that her own parents had not been so carefree. Perhaps then, she would not have mortified herself.

Harriet groaned into her teacup. She winced as she shifted her position, realizing that her hip would doubtlessly bruise from her ride.

“I thought you might like to hear about it,” Margaret said gently, concerned. “You always find your brother’s opinion of you terribly entertaining.”

“I do, but sometimes I wonder if he is right. With how I am, I shall never find a husband.”

“Of course you will, you simply need to find a man that likes those things about you. You may think that all gentlemen want to marry a lady that will sit in silence and never question him, but I cannot bring myself to believe that. They are not all cut from the same cloth, you know. Some gentlemen like adventure.”

“Well, should you ever find one, do tell me,” she smiled. “As for you, how is your mother faring with what is to come?”

“She is impossible. It should be Edward’s responsibility, as the man of the household, but she will not listen to him. She claims that she knows me better than anyone, but if that was all that was required then you would be my chaperone.”

Harriet laughed, and with that the tension of the morning almost left her entirely. She had a great deal of love for her friend and was so pleased that her brother had introduced them. She was quite aware that William had done so in the hopes that Margaret would be a good influence on her, but it had been quite the opposite. Margaret had become more outspoken since they met one another, which was perhaps why the Dowager Duchess was so determined to be in control over her daughter’s time in society.

“She means well,” Harriet said kindly. “She simply wants the best for you, and with how you are it is no surprise that they expect a good match.”

“I know, but what if that is not what I want? What if what I want is something that is unattainable?”

“Then you are one of many ladies that are at a loss as to what they can do.”

She knew how her friend felt, of course, for the one man that she wanted would never be within reach. A Duke was one thing, but the fact that the one she wanted was her friend’s brother was another thing entirely. She loved her friend, and so she could never do that to her. She laughed, scolding herself for acting as though he would ever want her to begin with.

Chapter Two

Edward preferred, in the lead up to the London Season, to hide away in his own lodgings rather than stay with his mother.

It meant abandoning his sister, but he did not know what else to do when he so badly wished to remain respectful to his mother, while it felt as though she did everything that she could to enrage him.

He had, however, agreed to attend breakfast that morning. It had been three days since his friend William had gone on his tirade about his willful sister, and three days since he thanked the stars that his own sister had been willing to bend. Had she not, he did not know what their mother would have done.

And yet, he had always admired Lady Harriet. She was a good and kind woman, but the same could easily have been said of other ladies in London. What separated Lady Harriet from them was that she was undeniably herself, and he had always found that alluring.

“Awful set of debutantes this year,” his mother scoffed, reading a scandal sheet. “All upstarts, none with any real family lineage. I know that I expect a lot of your future bride, dear, but none of these young ladies are sufficient.”

“Then I shall not marry this year,” he replied. “I am perfectly happy to wait.”

“You might be, but I wish to see you married soon. You may think that I will always be here, but that is not the truth.”

He stifled a groan. She was always quick to remind her two children that she would one day pass away and leave them alone. It always hurt Margaret, but after so many years of hearing it, Edward was not affected by it in the way she hoped he would be.

“I will find a wife, and I will do so on my own terms. I know what I am looking for, and I will know it when I see it.”

“I do not understand why you cannot simply marry the lovely Lady Catherine. She is precisely what a duchess should be.”

“Lady Catherine is my friend’s cousin, and I do not wish to marry the cousin of my friend. Even if I did not care about that, I do not know her.”

“I do, and she is a wonderful lady. It is time for you to do the right thing, Edward.”

“As should I,” Margaret said helpfully. “I am entering into my third Season out, and I am yet to find a match. Truly, I am terrible.”

“Indeed, it is becoming that way,” their mother agreed, turning to her.

Edward mouthed gratitude to her, and she smiled back at him before turning to accept her own list of failings.

He was pleased that his sister had taken after their father. She was kind and gentle, yet still knew how to act in society. She had never rebelled against their mother, and she continued to be the prize of the ton despite her age. If it were up to him, she would be left alone until she at last found a man she liked, but their mother seemed to want to get rid of her as quickly as she could.

It was strange, as such pressure would only be introduced when he took a wife. Even then, he would not hurry his mother and sister out of their home simply because he was married, as he would not marry a lady that expected such a thing. His mother had become quite the nightmare since Margaret’s debut, but that did not mean that he did not love her, nor that he no longer wished to take care of her.

Suddenly, his butler, Johnson, entered with correspondence, interrupting his mother. Margaret seemed relieved by the interruption, but Edward knew by the look in Johnson’s eyes that it was not something he wished to receive.

“It is from the north estate, Your Grace.”

He took the letter and read it, his heart sinking. More funds, once again. This time, there had been a crop failure, and the staff was unpaid. He had to remedy the situation, and he wondered just how many more times he would have to do so.

Each estate had begun to fail, and he did not know why. His father had shown him precisely what to do, and he had followed his guidance completely. It should have been thriving, but instead it seemed that no matter what he did, his finances continued to fail.

He had kept this from his family, of course. There was no need to share it with them, not when all it would do was frighten his sister and anger his mother. He knew that his mother would tell him all the ways he was failing, and then inevitably tell him that marriage would somehow remedy it. The last thing he needed, he decided, was a wife that wanted even more money from him, money that he frankly did not have.

“What is it, Edward?” Margaret asked.

“Estate matters. I have them in hand.”

“You know,” his mother said gently, “if you are uncertain of what to do, I could always ask Lord Ashcombe to assist you. He knows what to do.”

He shuddered. Percival Cresswell, Marquess of Ashcombe was a family friend, but Edward did not consider him a friend personally. He did not like him, even though he could never explain why. He was a powerful marquess, one that was charismatic and had a great deal of influence among the nobility, but he unsettled Edward.

He wanted to believe that he had seen Lord Ashcombe as a young boy, and that he had done something to frighten him. That fear had never left, and that was all it was, but what he knew for certain was that he did not like him.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this myself,” he protested. “Focus on your daughter’s upcoming Season, Mother, and leave the estates to me.”

“It is only a suggestion, dear. You want what is best for this family, and so do I. It is all that I have ever wanted.”

Edward was not so certain of that. Mercifully, the meal came to an end and he could leave. He said his goodbyes and left hastily. Once more, he felt the guilt of leaving Margaret behind, but he hoped that she would marry despite her protests and leave on her own accord.

That evening, he attended White’s. He was not one to attend the gentlemen’s club, for he tended not to drink. Alcohol made him lose his inhibitions, and therefore his composure, which was not what he ever wanted to do, but he needed some time to be himself for a while, rather than the Duke of Windham.

“Ah, Your Grace,” a deep voice came as he entered. “What a surprise to see you here!”

He looked up to see none other than Lord Ashcombe, and he almost turned on his heel and left again, but he was aware that doing so would make him look quite ridiculous.

“Good evening, Ashcombe.”

“You should join us. We have been talking about you, as it happens.”

“And why is that?” he asked, following behind..

“We are at a loss as to why you did not wish to accept my business proposal,” he explained. “It is mutually beneficial, and it would certainly assist you with the undertaking of your father’s estates.”

“My father has well prepared me for that, I can assure you.”

“All fathers do, but you will always need advice. I am more than happy to give that to you.”

“That is very kind of you, but I do not need it. I am more than capable of taking care of my family.”

“Very well, but should you change your mind, my offer stands.”

Lord Ashcombe’s supposedly mutually beneficial business proposal had not been something that Edward could bring himself to agree to. He had offered to cover one of Edward’s growing estate debts, which was only possible on the condition that Edward granted him access to several parcels of land that were tied to the Sinclair family.

These lands were under Edward’s name, but they were historically entailed and not easily sold outright. Lord Ashcombe, to his credit, had at least been clear in his intent. He planned to use the land to expand his enclosure schemes, displacing tenant farmers and profiting from private leases secured through manipulated paperwork and political backing.

It was something that the Duke refused to support, and it was only made worse by the fact that he wanted Edward’s partnership. His silence would not be enough, as active involvement would be expected of him. Edward’s role would be to help him legitimize the deals, lending his title to aid in the approval, and in return he would receive a share of the gains.

Edward had, of course, refused outright. The idea of using his father’s land for unethical exploitation repulsed him. It wasn’t just dishonest, it was a betrayal of everything his father stood for and he could not do it; however, with the mounting debts he had to admit that such an easy way out was tempting.

“I am grateful for the offer,” he said as they reached the table. “It is nice to know that people wish to help me, but I would prefer to honor my father and do things the way he always intended me to.”

“That is admirable,” one older man noted. “We all begin that way, but eventually we learn the truth. Believe me, your father would have had secret businesses of his own.”

“That is impossible. I would have seen them when I handled his affairs.”

“We gentlemen have our ways. Believe me, you will realize this when you begin this venture.”

“I will not be doing so. Gentlemen, I do not mean to be abrupt, but I planned to enjoy my night, rather than engaging in business. I am happy to play cards with you, but I have very little interest in discussing matters that I have already refused to engage in.”

The group seemed to accept that, and the game began. Edward quickly noticed that they were allowing him to win. They were trying to keep him sweet, as they undoubtedly also had a share in what Ashcombe was trying to do. Edward ignored it, instead enjoying his winnings, but he did not partake in their conversation. He wished only not to think for a while.

“You know, Your Grace,” the man next to him mumbled suddenly. “Ashcombe’s daughter is the one pushing for all of this. She thinks the world of you.”

“Is that so? Who might this daughter be?”

The man seemed surprised that Edward did not know who his daughter was. Edward knew that he should have at least been aware that he had a daughter, but he had not been interested. Ashcombe had been very forthcoming in his plans, so Edward decided that he had nothing to hide and therefore had never thought to look into him.

“I hear you have not told His Grace who your daughter is, Ashcombe,” the man said loudly, the others turning to Edward.

“It must have slipped my mind,” he smirked. “My Catherine is a beautiful young lady, and eventually that will be seen by all. She is looking for a husband, Your Grace. Should you be in want of a wife, I believe she would be worthy of consideration.”

He felt his throat tighten. When he had taken his title, he thought that he would be the most powerful man in society. He thought, foolishly, that his rank alone would force other gentlemen to do as he asked, but the reality had been anything but that. He was as much a pawn as he had always been, and with his mother, his friends, and even society pushing him to make decisions that he did not want to make, he was at a loss.

Then, he thought of Lady Harriet.

She was nothing like him. She was bright and cheerful, sometimes coated in mud and acting in an unladylike manner—everything that he had never been. She was unrefined and not at all what people thought a lady ought to be, but she was real. She was everything that he wished he could be.

Laughing, he left the table and returned to his lodgings.

Chapter Three

“Remember, Harriet. Tonight is important.”

Harriet’s mother had decided to help prepare her because they had a special sort of closeness with one another. That had been how she explained it, at least, though Harriet knew better. In truth, her mother was helping to dress her (in the gown she had chosen for her, no less) and pinning her curls in place because it gave her some semblance of control.

Harriet knew how important her first ball of the Season would be. It was an opportunity to present herself differently, and to prove to the ton that she was special, every bit as wonderful as her friend was. She would spend the evening beside Margaret, and would inevitably fail in every comparison, but she tried not to mind. She did not care what people thought of her, but she wanted all the same to be seen for what she had, rather than for what she lacked.

“I shall do my best, Mother.”

“I know. You always do. I know that you feel out of place among the ton, but you can do this. All you need to do is smile, be polite, and be gracious.”

“But that is not who I am. I am not one to simper like they want.”

“It is who you must be if you wish to find a husband. Even if it is insincere, it is what must be done.”

“I hate this, Mother. I hate all of it. I want to be who I truly am. There are so many young ladies in London. It is not as though anyone will notice how I act.”

“Your behavior matters more than you realize. The Season is all about making the right impressions, dear. You are under a very watchful eye, and if you do what is expected then you will be remembered for it. Should you fail, then you will be remembered for that instead. The choice is yours to make.”

Sometimes, Harriet wished that she had no choices at all. She did not want to play the poised little lady, and the fact that she would always know that she had done it to herself killed her. She wished that she was not wearing a pale pink gown that made a rustling sound as she walked, and that her hair had not been forced into elegant curls and instead had been left messily tumbling to her waist. She wished that, when she looked at her reflection, she saw herself rather than some strange doll.

But it did not matter what she wanted. What mattered was that she made a good showing of herself, and that gentlemen took an interest. If she managed that, then her family would not be so involved. They would believe in her and allow her to make a few decisions of her own. That was what she hoped, at least.

“Henry,” her mother called suddenly. “Might you come here for a moment?”

Harriet paused. Henry, her oldest brother, was not as aloof as William, but his expectations were even higher. As the one who would one day inherit the family title, he wanted the best for his siblings. However, that never seemed to translate into any real effort. He would simply bark his demands, and Harriet would agree. It was easier that way, even if she did not like it.

“What is it, Mother?”

“Your sister requires a chaperone for tonight, but your father and I are rather too tired for it. Could you attend the ball with her?”

He did not say a word, but Harriet could already tell how he was feeling. He did not want to go. He would have no interest in it and would be anything but good company when Margaret would inevitably be on the dance floor all night. If he attended with her, the night would be ruined before it had even begun.

“Mother, I–”

“I can take her,” William said, appearing behind Henry in the doorway. “I do not have anything to do tonight, and it is no trouble at all.”

“Oh!” their mother nodded. “Well, thank you, William. It will be good for you to attend too, so that you might find a young lady that takes your interest. I would certainly like one of my sons to find a wife.”

She left the three of them standing there, and Harriet did not know quite where to look. She had once adored both of her brothers, but as they had all grown older, they had been distant from her, and her brothers had come to dislike each other in such a way that it bordered on hatred.

“Congratulations,” Henry said coldly to William, applauding. “Mother will certainly have you as her favorite now.”

“Enough, Henry. I was doing that for your sake. We both know that you do not want to go.”

“How terribly unfair. You do not know my plans.”

“No? Does that mean that, instead of going to your club tonight, you can accompany us? I know Mother would love to see all three of her children attending such an event.”

Henry grumbled that he did not wish to do that and left the room. At last, Harriet felt more able to speak.

“If it is so awful, you need not come,” she said quietly. “Far be it from me to force you to do something.”

“It is not that, sister.”

“Then why does nobody wish to take me? It is as though you all know that I will only embarrass you, when that is never my intention and you know it.”

She sat on the edge of her bed, and William joined her. He had been sterner with her as of late, but there was no malice to him. He had always been kind and she could hardly blame him for being frustrated when she was so intent on not bending to society’s will.

“I know what you all think of me,” she said in a low voice. “I know that you all fear that I will remain unmarried and be a burden on the family all my life. But I promise you that it is not deliberate.”

“Of course it is not. We know that you are trying. You are spirited, Harriet, but that does not make you a child or anything of the sort. We want what is best for you, and we also want you to have an easier time in society. That requires effort on your part, to try and be like the other young ladies, but we do not expect perfection.”

“Henry does.”

“Henry is no better. He should be out looking for a bride, but he would rather be in his study learning about plants. He shall not say a word against you, believe me.”

It helped greatly to know that she at least had one brother who cared for her. Harriet knew that she was a willful girl, but William was right. She had to try to be what the ton wanted if she was going to have a better time out in society than she had previously had.

Gentlemen saw her as a friend, but the ladies could not have been more different. They would mock her openly, throwing looks of disgust each time she opened her mouth. They did not care what she had to say, for they felt she was not important. Harriet had never minded that, for if she were honest, she did not much care what they thought either, but even so, a part of her longed to be a part of them.

She wished that she was a perfect young lady in her perfect pink gown, but that was not who she was, no matter how she looked. Her instincts told her to be loud and rash and exactly who she wanted to be.

Looking at her reflection, however, she had to admit that she looked the part of a dainty little lady. She had been raised for this and given opportunities that most would have given their life for, and suddenly she felt quite selfish for rejecting it.

“I am going to try,” she said firmly, nodding. “I will do everything that I can to be the young lady you want me to be.”

“Yes, you are very funny, Harriet. Come along now.”

“I am serious! If this is what is expected of me, then it is what I shall do. I have always been determined, have I not? Well, now I would like to be determined to make you proud. I can do it, believe me.”

Her brother’s eyes were wide, as if in disbelief. Harriet could hardly blame him, not after how many times she had proven herself to want the very opposite of what she had promised, but it was the truth this time. Even if it were just for one night, she would make a good impression. She had always known how to be a lady, but she had chosen the opposite. That night would be different.

That night, she would sparkle just like the other ladies. She would be noticed even when she was beside Margaret, and not in the awful way that she usually was.

“Very well,” William said carefully. “I look forward to it. Come, let us take you down to the carriage.”

Her mother and father were waiting by the door, her mother clearly more afraid than her father. He had always been the one to encourage her antics, so it was hardly a surprise that he was rather looking forward to hearing about her evening. However, as with her brother, he had at last sensed a sort of urgency to see her married off and was no longer willing her to behave in an unbecoming way.

It seemed that everyone knew how important her Season would be, and that she was the last person to see it. Something, she thought, has to be coming my way, but she did not know what that was. Either way, she had to be at her best. She had to make them proud, and save her reputation, even if it meant lying about who she was.

“I wish I could have joined you,” he said gently, suddenly coughing into a handkerchief, “but this illness has truly taken hold of me.”

“It is quite alright, Father. William shall take very good care of me.”

“I have no doubt about that. Harriet, you know my rules. Have a wonderful night but remember what all of this is for. You look beautiful, and now you must have the actions to match. Make us proud, just as you always have done.”

“I would not have said that I have always done that, Father.”

“I would,” he assured her. “You have always been yourself, which is more than I ever could have asked for.”

“Even so,” her mother added, “we are pleased that you seem willing to do what is right.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Have a wonderful evening, Harriet. I cannot wait to hear all about it.”

She took her brother’s arm, and they boarded their carriage.

I will do this, she told herself, for Father.