Juliette pulled herself together, knowing that her misgivings and startlement would rub the bloom off the moment for Agatha. She leapt up and grabbed her friend’s hands, squeezing them before drawing her into a hug. “Congratulations. I had no idea it was becoming so serious between the two of you. You two haven’t known each other very long. Are you in love with him?”

Love wasn’t strictly necessary for marriages these days—especially ones as advantageous as this one would be, making Agatha a viscountess and eventually a countess. But Juliette and Agatha had spent long hours after lamps were extinguished, lying in their dormitory beds and declaring they would never marry for less than true love.

Agatha’s blush deepened, and she ducked her chin. “I do. I love him very much, and he says he loves me.”

Juliette squeezed Agatha’s upper arms. “That’s all that matters, then. Have you chosen a date?”

“Oh, goodness no. Since we have known each other such a short time, Father has insisted upon a longish betrothal, perhaps waiting until autumn or even Christmastime to wed. Alonzo would like us to be married at his family’s country estate since his grandfather is frail and cannot travel. Doesn’t that sound lovely? A church wedding at a country estate?” Agatha’s eyes took on a far-off look, as if she could see herself in nuptial finery with her groom at her side.

“Lovely indeed.” Juliette was so distracted by news of the engagement she forgot herself, reached down, retrieved her pistol, and wrapped the strap around the holster absentmindedly.

“What is that?” Agatha asked.

Juliette glanced down, mortification washing over her. She barely resisted tossing the gun away from herself. “I believe it is a little jest planted by Uncle Bertie. He has hinted that if I am going to be kidnapped with any frequency, perhaps he should stash weapons about the house. Do not worry—it isn’t loaded.” She silently begged God’s forgiveness for the lie. The gun certainly was loaded. “Let’s go into the dining room before someone comes in search of us. I cannot wait for you to announce your news.”

“Your uncle has a peculiar sense of humor. As to the announcement, that will happen tomorrow night at the party. Father wants to tell everyone himself.” Agatha’s brows fell. “He was supposed to be here this afternoon though. He went to the Hammersmith Mill, but he was coming here straight after, and he’s late. Again. Why must his work always take precedence over other things? Me in particular? He’ll probably arrive late to my wedding.”

“I’m sure he’ll come soon. You know how men can be, losing track of time when they’re working.” Juliette took the pistol with her to the dining room. Passing a potted fern on a plinth in the hall, she tucked the gun into the fronds for retrieval later.