Rosa had no idea what the new entertainment would entail, but she was looking forward to unveiling her own clockwork creation later. Fortunately the duke’s business in Parliament had kept him regularly occupied in London, so he had not had the time or interest to inspect her work. In all likelihood, it did not even cross his mind for a moment that Rosa would do anything other than obey his wishes exactly. Rosa smiled grimly to herself at the thought of the surprise that lay in store for him.

Finally there was no powder left to apply, no hair left to curl, no skirts to brush. The sun was setting and Rosa went downstairs to join the duke. He wore a heavy silk-lined opera cape, his hair slicked back, his moustache waxed, his silver walking cane clasped in one gloved hand. Rosa tried to find the handsome nobleman she’d first met, but all she could see now was the boar beneath, and the cape reminded her of a painting she’d once seen of the devil. There were some things you could not unsee once they had been revealed.

She could tell that Eustace was in high spirits, looking forward to the garden’s opening night and the chance to show off both his wife and her clockwork. Rosa made sure to keep her own excitement buried deep within, where it belonged. It was, after all, a twisted, miserable sort of feeling and not one she should take any pleasure in.

‘Your father has sent one of his artificers to us for the weekend,’ Eustace told her. ‘Should you receive any questions about the design or inner workings of the clockwork, you will direct these enquiries to him.’

Rosa frowned. ‘But they are not his designs. They are mine—’

‘Rosa, please.’ Eustace pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, as if she were tiring him beyond reason. ‘Now that you are a married duchess, you must see that it would be quite unacceptable for you to be lecturing our guests on the subject of mechanics, of all things. You will deport yourself with femininity and confine yourself to commenting upon suitable subjects.’

‘Such as?’ Rosa asked coldly.

She saw a flicker of anger cross his face before he mastered it. ‘Good God, surely you do not require me to tell you? Philanthropy, social engagements, the weather, fashionable hats. You know.’

She would have argued the point, but tonight she had bigger fish to fry, so she merely spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Very well, Eustace.’

‘Come. Let us greet our guests.’