Lady Avonleigh said the next afternoon. “It’s dreadful,” Lady Balmforth added. “The two of us ache every morning.” When James had fetched Juliana and the others for their outing, he’d explained that he needed to stop by his aunts’ house on their way to Leicester Square. Seated in his aunts’ drawing room on a peach sofa, Juliana watched him walk them toward a large picture window. “I’m afraid some morning stiffness is to be expected at your age,” he said sympathetically. He lifted Lady Balmforth’s narrow hand and examined it in the window’s light. “Don’t you need to use your quizzing glass?” she asked. “Not for this. I see no evidence of swelling, and your joints don’t look reddened or feel overly warm. If the achiness wears off before noon, that’s a good sign.” He flexed her elbow. “Does this hurt?” “He’s patient,” Amanda said quietly, sitting beside Juliana. “Yes, he is,” she whispered back, lifting an embroidery hoop one of James’s aunts had left on the table.
