Chapter 24

But after her visitor departed, she found herself thinking about the conversation. She was not afraid of society; she was not even particularly afraid of Julian's mother. What troubled her was the possibility that affection, however sincere, might eventually be worn down by expectations neither of them could entirely control. She had promised herself that she would never surrender the life she valued merely to become someone's wife; she intended to keep that promise, even if keeping it meant asking difficult questions.The opportunity arrived sooner than expected. Julian invited Rosamond to Winterbourne Hall for luncheon with his mother. The invitation was formal; the letter accompanying it was not:

My dear Rosamond,
My mother wishes to meet the woman who has apparently persuaded me to visit the countryside with unprecedented enthusiasm. I have informed her that you are intelligent, accomplished, and entirely unimpressed by my title. She has declared the last quality deeply concerning. I shall collect you at eleven.
Yours with considerable anticipation,
Julian

Rosamond laughed when she read it. Then she folded the letter and placed it carefully in her desk.She had no intention of being intimidated. Nevertheless, when Julian's carriage arrived three days later, she found herself adjusting her gloves twice before opening the door.Julian noticed immediately. "Are you nervous?""No."He raised an eyebrow. "Rosamond."She sighed. "A little."He took her hand. "My mother can be formidable.""So I have gathered.""But she is not cruel.""I am relieved.""And she has no power to decide whom I may love."Rosamond looked at him. The word hung between them: love. Julian seemed to realize what he had said; he did not withdraw it. Instead, he held her gaze."Come," he said gently. "Let us face the dragon together."Rosamond laughed. "Julian, she prefers the title Dowager Duchess."Winterbourne Hall was magnificent. Its long drive curved through ancient trees toward a great stone house with tall windows and a broad entrance staircase. Rosamond admired the architecture without pretending to be overwhelmed: she had seen beautiful houses before—Aunt Beatrice had taken her traveling when she was younger, and Rosamond had learned early that fine buildings were most enjoyable when one remembered that people still had to live inside them.Julian helped her from the carriage. "Still breathing?" he asked."Quite comfortably.""Excellent.""Although I may require a biscuit."He laughed. "I shall see what can be arranged."They entered the house. The Dowager Duchess of Winterbourne awaited them in a drawing room overlooking the gardens. Lady Margaret Ravensworth was a tall woman with silver-streaked dark hair, elegant posture, and eyes that missed very little. She rose as they entered."Julian.""Mother." He kissed her cheek, then turned toward Rosamond. "May I present Miss Rosamond Fairchild?"Rosamond curtsied. "Your Grace."The Dowager studied her. "Miss Fairchild, how pleasant to meet you.""The pleasure is mine, Your Grace."

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