THIRTY-THREE

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JAMES'S AUNTS were even better seamstresses than Rachael and her sisters. Better and faster. As Juliana sat stitching like mad while her guests chatted, she tried to convince herself that, with Lady Avonleigh's and Lady Balmforth's help, she could successfully finish making all the baby clothes before her deadline a week from Saturday.

At the end of Monday's party, she'd had a hundred and twenty-one completed pieces and needed only a hundred and nineteen more. Well, perhaps the word only was a bit optimistic, especially considering a majority of the finished pieces were simple blankets and clouts. But it had been the first time the number of items accumulated exceeded the number of items still unmade, which seemed a milestone of sorts.

Counting today, she had six sewing parties left. Which meant if all twelve of her guests were willing to attend every time, she'd need them to finish…

Her head hurt. "Emily, how much is a hundred and nineteen divided by six?"

"Miss Emily isn't here," Lady Mabel wheezed.

Oh, that was right. Emily had finished cutting, and she still refused to sew, and she'd been busy lately anyway for some reason or another. Which meant Juliana had eleven ladies—well, twelve if she counted herself—and needed—

"Nineteen and five-sixths," Elizabeth said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"One hundred nineteen divided by six is nineteen and five-sixths."

"You did that without paper?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I like to exercise my brain."

"My younger daughter was like that," Lady Avonleigh said. "She could do any calculation in her head."

"Our mother was good at arithmetic, too," Rachael said. "I expect Elizabeth inherited that ability from her."

"Brains do tend to run in families." Lady Stafford smiled toward Juliana. "My James was Aurelia's daughter's cousin."

"Much younger cousin," Lady Balmforth pointed out.

"Yes, had she lived she'd have been a grandmother by now, I expect—unlike my James, who's of marriageable age." Lady Stafford shot another smile to Juliana. "I was noticing at my dinner party, my dear, that the Duke of Castleton seems a mite reserved for a young lady of your enthusiasm."

"Yes, the duke surely is reserved," Juliana said distractedly, trying to figure out if they could make nineteen and five-sixths items at each party. "But that's only to be expected, considering his lonely childhood. Did you know he was born in this house? His cruel uncle and aunt sold it and made him move. The thought of it quite breaks my heart."

Rachael nudged Juliana and leaned close to her ear. "I think Lady Stafford is hoping you'll marry her son."

Juliana wished things were different so she could. In fact, she wished so hard it made her grit her teeth. "Brilliant observation," she said tightly under her breath, "but much as I like Lady Stafford, her son doesn't love me. I'm marrying the duke. He's very nice and he needs me."

"For God's sake," Rachael whispered, "I should think you'd rather have a man who wants you."

"He does want me. He told me he's falling in love with me. He sends me roses. He dances with me at every event."

"From about three feet away. Don't you want a man who physically wants you?"

It wasn't the duke's fault he was physically undemonstrative. He'd never known anything else. That was why he needed her.

Juliana's stomach hurt. She turned away and raised her voice. "I cannot thank you enough for coming, Lady Avonleigh and Lady Balmforth. You're both excellent seamstresses."

"Our mother taught us both to sew," Lady Balmforth said, "along with Cornelia, of course."

Lady Avonleigh nodded. "Cornelia and Bedelia didn't have daughters, but I followed tradition and taught mine to sew. My younger daughter was quite artistic and especially good with a needle."

Juliana and Rachael turned toward Lady Stafford expectantly. She didn't disappoint them. "My son is good with a needle, too. He does excellent sutures."

The cousins shared a smile, but Juliana's faded. "Do you think that together we can finish nineteen and five-sixths items this afternoon?"

"Twenty," Elizabeth said. "It's close enough to call it twenty."

"Of course. Do you think we can finish twenty? Twelve of us?"

"Of course," Corinna echoed. "We did twenty-three on Monday, remember? Without Ladies A and B."

Ladies A and B smiled, their needles flashing.

"Those were all clouts," Juliana said. "Not frocks, coats, caps, and the like, which are more complicated and take much longer."

Alexandra rubbed her belly, even though it still looked flat. "We can finish twenty pieces, even if they're more difficult," she said soothingly. "We'll just stay later, until we're done."

"We can't," Amanda said. "Juliana and your aunt and I are leaving at five to go to Chelsea Physic Garden, and we'll need time to ready ourselves first."

"Chelsea Physic Garden?" Claire looked up from the little frock she was sewing. "What's that?"

"Some garden for doctors," Juliana said. "James thinks Amanda will like it."

Rachael tied off a thread. "You call him James?"

"Lord Stafford," Juliana gritted out, "said Chelsea Physic Garden is very peaceful."

"My son knows exactly what women enjoy," Lady Stafford said. "He's taken me to the garden in Chelsea, and it's lovely."

Reaching for a spool, Rachael leaned closer to Juliana. "So tell me about James," she whispered.

"There's nothing to tell," Juliana said. "And we must stop whispering. It's not polite."

"You're right," Rachael said louder as she threaded her needle. "I've been wondering," she said to the company in general, "whether it's a good idea to marry a man expecting him to change."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Whom are you thinking of marrying?"

"No one in particular. It's just a hypothetical question."

"No," Corinna said flatly. "You cannot change people. If you marry a man expecting him to change, you'll be disappointed."

"Not necessarily," Juliana disagreed. "People change all the time. Look at Amanda."

Amanda blushed.

"Amanda wanted to change," Corinna argued. "That's very different from expecting a change in someone who's happy with himself."

Claire nodded. "Just think, Juliana. How would you feel if someone married you expecting you to change? Or even hoping you would change? Wouldn't you prefer a man who wants you just the way you are without wishing you were different?"

"We're not talking about me," Juliana snapped. "It was Rachael asking the question."

But she knew they were talking about her. Or at least they could be. She was planning to marry the duke expecting him to change, and she knew the duke would probably hope she would change, too.

Whereas James liked her just the way she was. But only as a friend—he would never love her. If it seemed he wanted her in a physical sense, that was only because they were friends and he wanted a child.

And he had to marry Amanda, or else three other people's lives would be ruined.

Her stomach had never hurt so badly in her life.