Of course she’d wed Gregory. Why wouldn’t she? It was silly to mull any other conclusion.
Mr. Ralston shook himself as if he’d been in a stupor. “I can’t believe I said that to you.”
She grinned to lighten the mood. “Neither can I.”
“I can’t figure out what’s come over me. Will you pardon me again?”
“Certainly. There’s no harm done.”
“I will confess that I am a terrible insomniac. I never sleep.”
“Never?” she asked.
“Well, not often and not for any useful length of hours. I fear fatigue is making me act like an idiot, and I can’t control my unruly tongue.”
“You’re not acting like an idiot precisely. I find you to be quite odd, but that isn’t necessarily bad. I’m very sheltered at Grey’s Corner, and it’s a rare occasion when I hear a comment that’s new or different.”
His expression sobered. “Seriously, Miss Grey. Caro. Don’t listen to me. I would never presume to advise you in your personal choices. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
“I’m sure you do, and I thank you for it.”
She stared up into his magnificent blue eyes, and he stared back, his gaze fantastically enthralling. She’d met so few handsome men in her life, and there’d definitely never been one who assessed her so meticulously.
It felt as if he was cataloguing every detail for subsequent reflection. It was an exhilarating realization, and she caught herself leaning toward him, as if she might simply fall into his arms.
Any marvelous thing could have happened, but from over by the manor, Gregory called, “Ho, ho! Ralston! Is that you?”
They glanced over to see Gregory standing on the stairs. He’d been nervous and jumpy, watching for his guests and as eager as a boy on Christmas morning.
“It appears I’ve been summoned,” Mr. Ralston said, as he slipped her the basket.
“Let’s get you inside,” she told him. “Once you’re settled in your room, perhaps you should take a nap. If you rest for a bit, it might prevent you from uttering indiscreet remarks.”
“I would try to take a nap, but it would probably be pointless.”
“Good luck with your socializing then. I predict you’ll step in numerous holes.”
“Just for you, I vow to be exhaustingly polite.”
“I shall keep hope alive, Mr. Ralston.”
He sauntered off, his long legs covering the ground much quicker than hers could, so she was left alone to observe as he greeted her cousin.
To her great exasperation, he’d immediately forgotten that they’d been strolling together and that they’d shared a. . . a. . .
There was no term to describe what had occurred. Whatever it had been, it had seemed important and vital—and even a tad dangerous. The hottest fire had ignited in her chest, as if his arrival would spark changes she’d been waiting for forever. But had she been waiting for changes?
One fact was certain: The days leading up to her wedding would be very interesting. She’d assumed Gregory’s London friends would be tedious and selfish, just like him, but maybe they wouldn’t be. Maybe they’d all be just like Mr. Ralston, which was delightful to consider.
She dawdled as a footman came out to tend Mr. Ralston’s horse, then Gregory escorted him in. The door was shut behind them, and she continued on at a much slower pace.
Mr. Ralston was staying for a whole week. Fancy that!
She smiled and headed for the servants’ entrance at the rear. She had chores to complete and a staff to supervise. She didn’t have time to moon over an intriguing Londoner.
No, she’d save her drooling for later on, when she was in her bedchamber and had a quiet interval to figure out what had transpired.
“We’re hosting a party every night until the wedding. But it will always be different guests, so you won’t grow bored with the company.”
Caleb Ralston stared at Gregory and smirked with annoyance. “I won’t grow bored.”
“We’re the premier family in the area,” Gregory boasted. “We have to keep up appearances by inviting the appropriate people. These rural folks can be so prickly if they’re not given suitable attention. We can’t have anyone feeling slighted.”
“Doesn’t everyone hate to feel slighted? It’s not just rural folks.”
“True, Ralston, true,” Gregory quickly agreed.
Gregory was an irksome sycophant who was desperate to be liked. He struggled to be fascinating, but he never succeeded. He’d fallen in with a wicked crowd in London who reveled in the very worst habits, and he was proving he could be as dissolute as the rest of them.
He fancied himself a rich dandy, and he certainly carried on as if he was incredibly wealthy. His grandfather had been a miser who’d lived like a pauper, but once he’d died, Gregory and his father had begun spending like fiends.
Gregory was working hard to empty his bank accounts, and Caleb was happy to help him destroy himself. If he’d liked Gregory at all, he might have been suffering a bit of guilt over how he was behaving, but he didn’t like Gregory, so he wasn’t ruing a single act he’d undertaken.
Supper was over, and several dozen guests were milling and chatting in the front parlor. Dancing would start shortly, and there was a card room where neighborhood gentlemen could play for pennies if they were inclined to have a spot of fun.
After the party ended, and family members went to bed, Gregory’s London guests would wager as if they were in town.
Caleb was delighted to have Gregory arranging more games. Gregory was an unlucky and reckless gambler, and Caleb was an excellent and lucky one. He probably should have stopped Gregory from digging such a deep hole, but he wasn’t Gregory’s nanny.
Was it Caleb’s fault that Gregory was a negligent idiot? He didn’t think so.
“We missed you at the theater.”
The comment was directed at Caleb by Gregory’s special friend, Lucretia Starling. She and Gregory had been a couple for years, and they lived openly and in sin in Gregory’s town house. He wondered if pretty, sweet Caroline Grey had heard any of those rumors.
Since Lucretia was standing by
