“I’ve been the lady of this house for ages, but I’ve never had any real authority. After I’m a wife, many things have to change. Most particularly, Uncle Samson and my husband have to start listening to me.”
“I can’t wait to watch it occur, and I will cheer you on at every turn.”
It would give her great pleasure to see her father and brother brought down a peg. They thought they were so important, and they definitely thought they were smarter than Janet and Caroline. The level of power they wielded was all out of proportion to the amount of effort Caroline expended on their behalves.
She and her cousin were in the front foyer, with Caroline having paused to report on her discussion with Samson and Gregory. She continued on to the rear of the manor to confer with their housekeeper, Mrs. Scruggs. Janet went in the other direction, up to her bedchamber, where she would hide for hours.
There were guests loafing in all the parlors, but they were Gregory’s London friends, and she couldn’t abide any of them. They were as smug and arrogant as he was, and they talked to her as if she was deaf or dimwitted. The entire group was obnoxious.
She reached the landing and was about to walk down the hall when a man bounded down the stairs from the floor above. She halted and, to her disgust, caught herself gaping up at him like a smitten ninny.
With his blond hair and blue eyes, he was annoyingly handsome, and it was obvious he was in the navy. He was wearing his blue coat and white trousers, and his chest was adorned with medals as if he’d bravely fought in numerous battles.
Though she’d never admit it, she loved seeing a man in uniform. It called to her feminine sensibilities, the ones she constantly struggled to ignore.
He was a few years older than she was, twenty-four or twenty-five, and she couldn’t help but notice he had no wedding ring. So. . . he was a bachelor! Gregory occasionally dragged home unattached chums, but none of them ever looked like this divine god. She was embarrassingly aflutter, but working hard to pretend she wasn’t paying attention.
“Hello there,” he said.
“Hello to you too.”
“I just arrived, and I’m starving. Can you point me to a dining room? Might I still be able to be fed? Or will I have to wither away until a formal meal is served?”
“I’m sure the kitchen can stir up a plate for you.”
“Marvelous.”
He was tall and willowy, and he moved with the grace of a dancer, being light on his feet and at ease in his body as she never was. His shoulders were wide, his waist narrow, his legs long, and she simply couldn’t fathom how dull, insufferable Gregory would be friends with him.
“I’m Miss Grey,” she said.
“Which Miss Grey?” he asked. “Are you Gregory’s sister, Janet, or have I met Miss Caroline, the bride-to-be?”
“I’m Janet.”
“You poor dear. I shall pity you forever.” He bowed with a dramatic flourish that had her laughing. “I am Ensign Blake Ralston, the most dashing sailor the Royal Navy ever produced.”
“You have quite a resumé.”
“When you’re as splendid as I am, there’s no reason to practice humility.”
“No, there’s not.”
“My brother is here,” he said, switching topics like a whirlwind. “Mr. Caleb Ralston?”
“Now that you mention it, the resemblance is clear.”
“He’s an imposing rogue, isn’t he?” He leaned in, so close that his boots slipped under the hem of her skirt. “Tell me the truth. What do you think of him?”
“We were only just introduced. I’ve spoken to him exactly twice, so I’ve barely had opportunity to make his acquaintance.”
He smiled a smile that nearly knocked her off her feet. “You’ll like me more than you like him. I promise you that.”
“That’s a bold statement.”
“I’m a bold fellow.” He gestured to the stairs. “Will you escort me to the dining room? This mansion is so large that I’m lost. I have no sense of direction.”
“How could you have no sense of direction? You’re a sailor—the best the navy ever produced, remember?”
“Yes, but we have sextants and other tools to inform us of where we are. It’s when I’m staggering down these narrow hallways that I have so much trouble.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to announce that she would be delighted to escort him. A fleeting vision flitted through her head: the two of them ensconced at the table where they’d chat intimately, and she would ogle him like a blushing debutante.
The speed with which she was willing to succumb to that sort of blatant entanglement was dumbfounding. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t interested in romance, and she deemed all men to be fools.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but at the moment, I’m too busy.”
“You can’t force me to wander about on my own.”
“You are a flirt.”
“You accuse me as if it’s a bad thing.”
“In my book, it is.” She pulled herself up to her full height and, next to him, it wasn’t very tall at all. “If you follow these stairs to the bottom, you’ll find a footman in the front foyer who will assist you.”
“You wound me, Miss Grey.” He placed a teasing hand over his heart. “How could you decline to dawdle in my charming company?”
“I’ll try to bear up.”
“I shall absolutely die a little until I see you again.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe I’m lying,” he said, “but maybe I’m not.”
He winked at her—he winked!—then he sauntered off, and she almost ran after him and told him she wasn’t that busy, that she would love to sit with him while he ate. But that’s what a silly girl would do, and she was a modern and independent young lady who was much too mature to be tantalized by a scoundrel.
He stopped and called up to her. “Janet?”
At wondering what his comment would be, she was practically breathless with anticipation, so she forgot to be annoyed that he’d used her Christian name.
“What?” she asked.
“Where would I be
