“Good morning to you, Duke Heinrich. What brings you to our humble home on such a fresh day?” He sprawled into a chair. “Do sit down. Why haven’t you rung for tea, Jules?”

“Good morning, Sir Bertrand.” Heinrich looked pained, but he took the seat opposite Bertie. “I have come to inform you … and your niece … of my soon departure. I am being recalled to my home at the end of the month.”

“Work with the diplomatic corps winding up, eh? I could never be a diplomat. I cannot imagine the secrets you must keep, always looking beneath the surface, wondering what the other side is really up to.” Bertie took out his watch, then removed his handkerchief and polished the glass. “Good show.”

Juliette stifled a laugh. Bertie kept ten secrets before breakfast, and he was always looking for clues as to what the enemies of Britain were really up to.

“Danke. I wish I could stay longer, but duty must come first. However, it is my desire to return to England by midsummer to renew my acquaintances.”

“We look forward to having you back, don’t we, Juliette?”

She paused. “Yes, of course. I wish you safe travels.”

Heinrich beamed. “I shall think of you all often, and I shall tell my family about the warm welcome I was given. It is my highest hope that I will be able to return the favor at a time when your family can visit mine in Brandenburg. My mother is going to love you.”

He stared at Juliette, and her skin grew uncomfortably warm. Heinrich was making assumptions that she could not, and would not, answer in front of her uncle. The duke had not exactly declared himself, nor had he formally asked for her hand in marriage, but he had ridden right up to the precipice.

What could she do? Why weren’t her parents there? If Heinrich had requested permission to propose from her father, she would have had some warning.

Daniel crashed onto the waterwheel, smashing into the angled buckets that filled with water from the sluice of the overshot system. His cloak caught on the shroud plate, yanking him by the neck and cutting off his air. The frog closure bit into his throat as the wheel turned without mercy, dragging him beneath the water. He struggled with the cloak as it tangled around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

Water closed over his head, filling his ears, his eyes, his nose. A rushing, thumping sound roared around him, and his shoulder hit something hard, scraping and dragging along the bottom of the water race.

Uneven stone ground against his side while the waterwheel rotated inexorably. He was scudded along the bottom of the race, all the while struggling to free himself from the strangling cloak.