She eyed it suspiciously but accepted my verdict. A quick circuit of the room adjusted the position of a vase, tidied Julia’s pen back into its holder, and wiped a speck of dust from the side table. Then Weatherly’s knock upon the door sent us both to stand before our armchairs.

“Come,” I said.

The door opened and Weatherly announced, “Lord Duffield and Lady Duffield, my ladies.”

Harriet trod daintily into the room—again wearing her blue wool and ermine-trimmed pelisse but without the bonnet—followed by our brother in his customary Weston. His hat and cane had been handed over downstairs, but he still wore his caped greatcoat. All good omens of a short visit.

“Good morning, sisters,” Harriet said, pausing ever so slightly for us to curtsy first. We obliged, then received her curtsy and Duffy’s bow.

“Good morning, Harriet,” Julia said with an almost genuine smile. It was more than I could conjure. “Good morning, Duffy. Shall I send for tea?”

“Oh no, not for me,” Harriet said, casting a coy look at Duffy.

“Nor for me, Julia.” He offered his arm to his wife and escorted her to the sofa. Harriet sat, but Duffy continued on to his usual position standing at the mantel. “We do not stay long.”

I refrained from murmuring “amen” and took my seat, Julia claiming her own armchair beside me.

“You no doubt know why we are here.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, finally managing a smile through my teeth.

Duffy sighed. “You are going to be difficult, I see.” He glanced at Harriet, who gave him an encouraging nod, her tightly tonged curls bobbing at either side of her face. “I am here because of the events at Davenport Hall. I can barely believe the behavior I witnessed, from both of you. Interfering in Lord Deele’s affairs, taking advantage of Lord Davenport, and worst of all, associating—nay, worse than that—actively helping and consorting with a criminal and a man claiming to be a Bow Street Runner. It does not bear thinking about.”

“You seem to have done quite a great deal of thinking about it,” I said. “Although I wonder how you reconcile your part in the evening. Or should I say your lack of part.”

Duffy glared at me. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean you failed to help either Julia or myself. I asked you for your sword and you refused, and the least you could have done was to stay on the road with Julia. But no, you turned tail and ran.”

Duffy drew himself up. “Are you calling me a coward?”

“That is your word, not mine,” I said.

“Duffield did exactly as his duty required, Augusta,” Harriet said, small mouth pursed. “He is a magistrate. Besides, he had more important obligations than to pull you out of your ridiculous situations. Duffield, tell them.”