“Juliet. Is that you?” Her mother-in-law's domineering voice called. Juliet froze in her steps and turned slowly.
“Mother.” She greeted.
“He's off again, isn't he?” Beatrice asked, taking her sweet, gracious time to climb down an adjacent flight of stairs.
“He says he has some urgent meeting in town and that he must hurry with Charles.”
Beatrice sighed. “Sometimes, it is hard to remember that my son got married to you and not to Charles. Those two are closer than anything.”
Juliet said nothing. She could feel Beatrice's heated gaze on her. Her eyes were perhaps sweeping for impediments in her dress.
“This corset is too tight. Ask your handmaid to fix it for you.” Beatrice said.
“Yes, mother. I shall do that.”
“You need to understand that being a Marchioness, you need to shed away some of your ladylike manners. You are now in a more mature position. You require manners that are befitting of a woman of your status.”
Juliet could feel herself shriveling up inside. “Yes mother.”
“I noticed you were strolling around the gardens yesterday. I understood you had one back in Willowbrook.” Lady Beatrice continued.
“Yes.”
“Remember, you came here for one reason and one reason only. To be a good wife to my son and bear him heirs. Your adoration for gardens is one of the ladylike manners you will need to shed. If you must attend gardens, let the time used be short. Am I understood?”
“Clearly, Mother.” Juliet replied, plastering a half-smile on her face even though each word felt like a dagger ripping her heart into shreds.
“Alright. That will be all for now. I shall talk to your husband when he returns. This game of cat and mouse must stop today.”
Juliet nodded in reply and took one more bow. Beatrice acknowledged it and watched her walk to her room.
She closed it behind her, walked towards the bed, and sank into it.
“I assume the conversation with your husband did not go as well as you wanted?” Estelle asked, now arranging some of Juliet's jewels on her dressing table.
“There was barely a conversation.” Juliet replied, her voice muffled by the bedclothes. “He couldn't wait to get to his friend.”
“Lord Charles?”
Juliet narrowed her eyes in surprise and looked up at Estelle. “You're familiar?”
“I have seen him once or twice around the manor. While I haven't conversed with him, he seems harmless enough.”
“Is that what you think about him?”
“I cannot form any thought about Lord Charles, milady. I haven't engaged with him yet.”
Juliet's eyes darted towards the dressing table, watching Estelle arrange her jewels properly. Just like that, at that moment, a grand idea formed in her head.
“Perhaps you could converse with him?”
“Milady—”
“Do not worry. It is nothing serious. You will just talk to him as much as possible, see what kind of man he truly is.”
“I do not think—”
“I would talk to him myself if I could, but Lady Beatrice watches me like a hawk. The last thing I need is to get caught in another scandal, don't you think?”
