“Yes, you’re fashionably late,” her mother added, without much inflection to indicate her mood.

Vic fought down the urge to apologise. “I lost track of time at the office.”

Her father chuckled. “I’m not sure I’ve ever lost track of mealtimes in favour of land acquisitions.”

“Actually, I wasn’t working on acquisitions today, or land at all, at least not in the conventional sense.” Her face warmed as the words poured out of her, and she had to shed her suit jacket. She tossed it over the high back of her chair, earning a distasteful expression from her mother, but she didn’t wilt or change course. Before this was over, a misplaced article of clothing would feel downright dainty.

“I spent most of my day doing research. On the film industry at large and movie producing, specifically.”

Her parents exchanged an undecipherable look, and her mother set down her silverware neatly before saying, “I thought Ms. LeBlanc’s film was in its final stages. Producers are usually secured before filming, not days before their location contracts end.”

Warning bells pinged in the back of Vic’s mind. “I didn’t know you paid attention to the movie business, much less the specifics of this one’s contractual status.”

The duchess pursed her lips before affecting a more neutral expression. “I pay attention to everything involving my home and family. It’s part of my role as lady of the house . . . and as a mother.”

The low thrum of warning in the timbre of her voice made the hair on Vic’s arms stand on end, but she had to stay the course, or she’d never make it through this. “Actually, that kind of responsibility is exactly why I wanted to speak with you both tonight.”

“Yes. James mentioned something about a meeting with local filmmakers,” her father cut back in. “Why not sit down and tell us about it?”

She started to ease into the chair, but her muscles twitched, and she hopped back up, opting to pace instead. She was too wound up on a combination of nerves and excitement to hold still. “Yes, the filmmakers and James, so much has happened since then. First of all, James is horrible and it’s time for him to retire with dignity before I sack him myself.”

“Victoria!” her mother scolded, “James has been—”

“A snooty little spy for too long.” Vic held up her hand to forestall further argument. “But in this case, he needled me into articulating something I should’ve said to him years ago, and in defending the young filmmakers against him, I finally saw a stark contrast between the type of attitudes and people who want to drag us back and the kind that can move us forward. His disdain for the future also forced me to choose a side, and I came down firmly in favour of the future.”

“That sounds rather exciting,” her father said.