“Papa, stop,” she pleaded, digging in her heels—quite literally—as he attempted to drag her through the door of the Maguiresbridge rectory.

“I’d think you’d be a bit more eager to have an answer,” he said impatiently. “God knows I am.”

It had been a dreadful morning. When the dowager discovered that the two men had ridden off to the church without her, she went—and Amelia did not think this an exaggeration—berserk. Even more chilling was the speed with which she recovered. (Under a minute, by Amelia’s estimation.) The dowager’s rage was now channeled into icy purpose, and frankly, Amelia found this even more frightening than her fury. As soon as she found out that Grace did not intend to accompany them to Maguiresbridge, she latched herself to Grace’s arm and hissed, “Do not leave me alone with that woman.”

Grace had tried to explain that Amelia wouldn’t be alone, but Amelia was having none of that and refused to leave without her. And as Lord Crowland would not go without Amelia, and they needed Mrs. Audley to direct them to the proper church…

It was a crowded carriage that made its way to County Fermanagh.

Amelia was wedged in on the rear-facing seat with Grace and Mrs. Audley, which would have been no trouble whatsoever except that she was facing the dowager, who kept demanding that poor Mrs. Audley update her on their progress. Which meant that Mrs. Audley had to twist, jostling into Grace, who jostled into Amelia, who was already overly tense and apprehensive.

And then, as soon as they arrived, her father had grabbed her by the arm and hissed one last lecture in her ear about fathers and daughters and the rules governing the relations thereof, not to mention three full sentences about dynastic legacies, family fortunes, and responsibilities to the Crown.

All in her ear, and all in under a minute. If she hadn’t been forced to endure the same set of directives so many times in the past week, she would not have understood a word of it.

She’d tried to tell him that Thomas and Jack deserved their privacy, that they should not have to discover their fates with an audience, but she supposed the point was now moot. The dowager had charged ahead, and Amelia could hear her bellowing, “Where is it?”

Amelia twisted, facing Grace and Mrs. Audley, who were following several horrified paces behind. But before she could say anything, her father yanked hard on her arm, and she went stumbling over the threshold behind him.

A woman stood in the center of the room, teacup in hand, the expression on her face somewhere between startled and alarmed. The housekeeper, probably, although Amelia could not inquire. Her father was still dragging her along behind him, determined not to allow the dowager to reach Thomas and Jack too far ahead of him.