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"Pish! For all I ken, she was the one who paid the footpads tae attack ye. So she can be a free, rich widow."

"That is ridiculous," Sutton said instantly, and Temperance let out a breath.

At least he trusted her.

"You cannot ignore the coincidence, boy," his father said in a deep, rich voice.

A young maid hurried past Temperance on the landing, carrying a tray of fresh linens. Temperance leaned in, whispering urgently, "When did they arrive?"

The maid paused, blinking in surprise. "Their Graces? Why, just now."

Temperance swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "And... they will be staying here?"

"I believe so."

Below, the Duke of Hardwicke abruptly tilted his head, his sharp gray eyes sweeping up the grand staircase. Instinct took over, and Temperance ducked behind the carved wooden pillars.

"Ah," the Duke's deep voice boomed up toward the ceiling. "I believe that is our new daughter. Lady Sutton, what a pleasure."

Blast!

Caught red-handed, Temperance sheepishly peeked back out over the balustrade.

"Pardon me, Your Graces." She offered a nervous, tentative smile, clutching her dressing gown over her chest. "I am not in the best state of dress."

The duchess waved a dismissive, gloved hand in the air. "Pish, we are family! Come on down, lass."

Temperance blinked. The warmth in the duchess's voice was staggering, a stark contrast to the venom she had been spewing about "that woman" mere seconds ago.

I need to learn to hide my feelings that well if I am ever to face society again.

She smoothed her dressing gown, held her head high, and descended the grand staircase step by step.

As soon as her slippers hit the marble of the foyer, she sidled closer to Sutton.

Sutton shifted, his shoulder brushing hers. She decided to believe he did it on purpose, as a gesture of reassurance.

"Welcome to London, Your Graces," Temperance said with a graceful curtsy.

"Thank ye, my dear," the duchess said, her eyes scanning Temperance from head to toe, taking in her disheveled hair and dressing gown. "And how are ye finding the Sutton home?"

Temperance straightened beneath the gaze of the formidable duchess. "Everything is lovely, thank you. But please excuse the disorder. I have started on a bit of renovation, and many rooms are currently in disarray. If I had known of your intention to stay with us, I would have postponed it."

The duchess raised an eyebrow, exchanging an unreadable glance with her husband. "So... ye're staying here, then?"

Temperance glanced up at Sutton's impassive profile before looking back at his mother. "Yes, of course."

"Ye're nae leaving for another journey?" the duchess pressed.

"I have no plans of leaving, Your Grace," Temperance said with an easy smile, though her entire being had coiled. She grasped frantically for a change of subject. A footman appeared with another trunk, and she remembered that Their Graces had just arrived and were still standing in the foyer in their traveling clothes, while she behaved like an abominable hostess. "You must be weary from your journey. Let me tell Mrs. Higgins to prepare us some tea⁠—"

"Dinnae fash yersel, child," the duchess cut her off smoothly, a razor-thin smile on her lips. "Mrs. Higgins kens my preferences better than I do. Everything is taken care o'. It is almost as if this used tae be my home."

Temperance's smile tightened into a fine line. Perfect.

Now, on top of trying to thaw the ice in her husband's heart, she had to navigate a house with his terrifying parents, who clearly did not like her very much.

She let out a slow breath, steadying herself. "Then if you will excuse me, I shall dress properly and join you all for tea shortly."