The setting sun cast long shadows across the garden pavilion where Anne sat with her mother. The air was still and warm, but the atmosphere between the two women was cold and brittle.
"What!" Augusta said, the porcelain teacup clattering against its saucer as she dropped it on the table in shock. She stared at her daughter as if she was saying something strange. Anne had just come home from her failed matchmaking meeting, and instead of getting angry at her father for setting her up with someone like Weston, she was now making the most audacious and shocking demand Augusta had ever heard.
"You want to be set up with Duke Philip?" Augusta repeated, her voice a mixture of disbelief and alarm.
Anne took a slow, deliberate sip of her own tea, her expression perfectly calm. "Why not?" she asked, a cool challenge in her eyes.
"Of course you can't!" Augusta replied, her composure starting to fray. "Anne, Duke Philip is…"
