“I had to come.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “My poor, dear Garfield.” Two perfect tears tumbled over her lower lashes. “However will I go on? Ours was a once-in-a-lifetime love.”

Juliette smothered a gasp. Love? Who was this woman? Agatha clearly hadn’t known her, not by name nor by sight. Had her father really kept something so momentous from his own daughter?

Then again, her parents had kept even bigger secrets from her for her entire life. Perhaps all parents were deceptive, keeping their children in the dark about the most important parts of their lives.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Really, Mrs. Fairchild? My father did not mention having great affection for you. In point of fact, he never mentioned you at all.”

“My dear, he wished to wait until you were settled back in England before introducing us. He knew how important your debut Season was, and he wanted no distractions. We were willing to put aside our happiness until he found someone to wed you.” Mrs. Fairchild delicately dabbed at her cheeks with her handkerchief, managing to look like a porcelain doll in spite of being “distraught.”

Juliette winced. Found someone to wed Agatha? As if it were an arduous task not undertaken lightly? Agatha hadn’t needed any machinations by her father. She had found a match, the heir to an earldom, by being her own lovely self.

Mrs. Fairchild sighed. “He did not wish to upset you upon your arrival by revealing our attachment. And now it is too late.” Again, she dabbed at perfect tears. How was it that she could cry so prettily? Even her eyes stayed clear. “Introduce me to the gentlemen, dear.” She trained her eyes on first Lord Darby and then Daniel.

Agatha made the men known to her guest, giving Alonzo his full title and calling Daniel merely Mr. Swann, not mentioning his occupation. “And this is my friend Lady Juliette, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Thorndike.”

“A pleasure.” Mrs. Fairchild nodded. “I wish we had met under more felicitous circumstances.”

Mrs. Fairchild, belying her diminutive stature, reigned over the conversation. She attached herself to Lord Darby, barely letting anyone else get a word in edgeways.

Juliette watched for Daniel’s reaction, and with satisfaction she noted his lowered brows and careful study. Did he think her beautiful? Was he affected by her charms though she was nearly old enough to be his mother?

Juliette struck down the thought as unworthy. She might feel antipathy toward the woman, but the fault was in her own heart. Everyone dealt with grief differently, and if Mrs. Fairchild had really loved Mr. Montgomery and anticipated marriage, she must be truly bereaved.