What sort of man needed his back guarded at a wedding?
But then, Caleb and Gregory Grey were gambling, and Mr. Grey was pushing the stakes higher and higher. The negligent sot would ultimately wager away the estate, and that type of tragic apex could always generate trouble.
“Will you play with Gregory again tonight?” he asked.
Caleb sighed. “I suppose I will.”
“You don’t have to. Why don’t you chuck it in and return to London? You and I can spend some time together and revel like bachelors.”
“We are bachelors,” Caleb said. “We don’t require an excuse to act like it.”
“Mr. Grey is an obnoxious prick. I don’t understand why you’re fussing with him.”
“I keep trying to stop, but he won’t let me.”
Blake tsked with disgust. “That’s a nonsense reply. You’ve kept on because you enjoy tormenting him.”
“Maybe.”
Caleb detested lazy, slothful idiots. He liked taking their money, jewels, and properties. The fact that many of them had fathers in the navy, that those fathers were the kind of men their own father had been, was a motivating influence. He relished having the chance to inflict himself on them.
“What did you think of Caroline Grey?” Caleb asked.
Caleb had introduced Blake to the gorgeous woman. She’d been pert and funny, and she’d had an intriguing manner of interacting with Caleb. She’d talked to him as if he didn’t impress her, which was incredibly humorous. His brother had never crossed paths with a female who didn’t immediately throw herself at his feet.
“I can’t believe she’s Gregory’s fiancée,” Blake said.
“Neither can I. I feel sorry for her.”
Blake scoffed. “No, you don’t. You don’t feel sorry for anyone.”
“I feel sorry for myself—for being related to you. I feel sorry that Sybil had to watch over us for so many years. I feel sorry for all the people in the world who aren’t as wealthy as I am now. And I feel sorry for Caroline Grey.”
“I stand corrected. You are a teeming ball of empathy.”
“I’m concerned about what will happen to her if Gregory continues marching down the road he’s on.”
Blake gaped at Caleb and shook his head. “Are you sure you’re Caleb Ralston? If you’ve told me once, you’ve told me a thousand times: You don’t care about the women who are harmed by the reckless men in their lives.”
“I’m concerned about her.” Caleb shrugged. “She might cry off from the wedding.”
“Don’t you dare tell me you encouraged her.”
“I didn’t, but she’d be smart to run from Gregory Grey.”
“If you’ve been discussing such a dangerous idea with her, it’s clear you’re getting involved with her when you shouldn’t.” Blake frowned. “What’s wrong with you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, and don’t mind me. I’m in a strange mood.”
“You certainly are.”
Caleb waved toward the dancers. “Why don’t you dance again? Leave me alone. My thoughts are bouncing around at such a furious rate that I can’t carry on a civil conversation.”
“It’s absolutely typical that I would travel all this way to socialize with you, only to be told you’d rather mope in the corner by yourself.”
“I’m good at moping, so please go charm the ladies. If you keep them busy, perhaps they’ll ignore me.”
“Dear brother, just for you, I will give it my all.”
Blake sauntered off, thinking that no amount of distraction would prevent the females in the crowd from seeking Caleb’s attention. Or his own.
He and his brother were amazingly handsome, as well as suave and sophisticated. Caleb was rich too, so that made Blake rich. It would be pointless to pretend they didn’t cut dashing figures, and Blake was wearing his uniform. There wasn’t a woman in the kingdom who could resist him.
He was still overheated, so he slipped out to the verandah and strolled down into the garden. He walked until he was quite a distance from the house, then he turned to study it. The windows were lit, the doors open so it might have been a fairy palace.
He loved fancy houses, and there had been plenty of occasions as a boy where he’d had to tarry outside and wonder what it would be like to be welcomed inside. Now, with his career providing esteem, and his brother being powerful and important, Blake could bluster into any bloody mansion he chose, and people would be glad to see him.
Behind him, a woman sneezed, and she tried to be furtive so he wouldn’t hear her. He glanced over his shoulder to where there was a bench off in the grass. She was sitting on it, and with her attired in a black gown, the night swallowed her up.
He went over to discover who it was, being surprised to find Janet Grey. He’d met her on the stairs when he’d first arrived, but he hadn’t stumbled on her since.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Grey,” he said. “Why are you hiding out here all by yourself?”
“If I’d wanted to be found, Ensign Ralston, I would have made my presence known.”
“You did make it known. You sneezed.”
Without invitation, he plopped down next to her, and she glowered like a fussy schoolteacher.
“I didn’t ask you to join me,” she said.
“No, but you look like you could use some company.”
It wasn’t completely dark. There was a lantern hanging from a post a few feet away, and the moon was up, so he could clearly assess her. She was younger than he was, probably twenty or so. With her blond hair and blue eyes, she was very pretty, but she concealed her feminine attributes, almost as if she couldn’t bear to have them noticed.
When he’d bumped into her earlier, she’d been dressed like a governess, and she still was. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, unflattering chignon, and while the other women at the party were decked out in their most stylish clothes, her dreary garment had a high neck, long sleeves, and grey trim on the collar and cuffs.
“Your face is so scrunched up,” he said, “you could be
