“His furlough is over next week, and he’s leaving for the Mediterranean.”
“Well. . .” Caroline sighed. “That throws a wrench in your choices.”
“I might be increasing.” Janet started crying again. She’d been weeping on and off ever since Caroline had arrived.
“If you are, you shouldn’t be surprised. A baby is the expected result for this type of conduct.”
The comment made Caroline’s stomach clench with dismay. What if she was increasing? Caleb had said it was a possibility every time a couple fornicated, and she’d never been lucky. What if she was pregnant? What then?
No, no, don’t worry about it yet. It was too soon for symptoms, and Janet needed to be her focus. Later on, she could deal with her own dilemma—if it turned out there was one.
“What should I do?” Janet asked.
“As with my situation regarding Caleb, it can fester for a bit. We’ll figure it out once we’re not quite so livid.”
“I’m so relieved that you’re with me. I’ve been dying to hear a woman’s perspective.”
“I was thinking the same when I was walking over here. We never had a female in our lives, so we don’t have anyone to guide us through these sorts of issues. If your father was even remotely rational, we could have him speak to Blake. Uncle Samson could force him to marry you.”
“I couldn’t bear to have Blake forced into it. He should marry me because he’s madly in love with me.”
Caroline recalled Blake as she’d last seen him in the hall outside his bedchamber. He’d appeared elegant and sophisticated—and a tad wicked—and she didn’t suppose he ever thought about Janet. Why would he?
Janet had furnished him with what he shouldn’t have had until after he’d put a ring on her finger. He’d received a huge gift he shouldn’t have accepted. Caroline could have chastised her cousin for her moral lapse, but she was disgraced herself, so she was in no position to judge.
“We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we?” she said instead.
“Yes. I’m especially wretched because my fondness for him runs counter to my views about men and relationships. It’s mortifying to confess that I simply want what all women want. I believed I was different, but I’m not.”
“Don’t mock the chance to wed and have children. Nearly every female who’s ever marched down that road winds up happy. You will be too.”
“How will I get him to propose though?”
Caroline knew how it could be accomplished. She could go to Caleb and inform him of his brother’s mischief. He could pressure Blake. Or Caroline could confer with naval authorities, and they’d demand he step up. She doubted they would allow such turpitude to remain unchecked.
At the moment though, when her spirits were terribly low, she couldn’t imagine pursuing those courses of action. She wished her uncle wasn’t such a fiend. He should have handled it.
“We’ll fuss over Blake Ralston tomorrow,” she said. “We just managed to find each other, and with all our calamities, we’re fortunate we’re still in one piece. Let’s concentrate on ourselves and ignore the men who’ve stirred such anguish.”
Janet laughed miserably, then she rose and trudged to the bedroom. Caroline listened as she poured water and washed her face. When she came back, she gave Caroline some papers.
“I need your opinion about this,” Janet said. “I’ve been working with a lawyer to gain control of my trust fund, but I found out there hasn’t ever been one.”
Caroline frowned. “That can’t be right. You have that inheritance from your grandmother.”
“No, I don’t. Not that my lawyer could locate anyway. And look down toward the bottom. Our family has one trust fund, and it’s in your name.”
Caroline studied the words over and over: Caroline Grey Mining Trust.
It made no sense to her. She didn’t have any money. Her uncle had always told her that, and there had never been any evidence to the contrary. “This is too strange to be credible. Are you sure your attorney is competent?”
“I think so. Blake’s friend, Sybil Jones, recommended him.”
“He’s probably skilled then, so perhaps, he’s simply mistaken.”
“It just seems odd to me. Maybe your father left you a bequest, and it’s been quietly sitting somewhere, but we were never apprised.”
“I can’t fathom it. If there’s one fact about which Grandfather Walter was very firm, it was that my father was a lazy, negligent spendthrift.”
Another knock sounded on the door, and Janet braced as if expecting a hard blow. “It might be Blake,” she whispered, “but I can’t talk to him. I’m too upset.”
Caroline waved her away. “I’ll see who it is. You hide in the bedroom, and if it’s him, I’ll claim you’re not here.”
Janet dashed out as Caroline pulled the door open. A messenger was standing there. He handed Caroline a letter for Janet, then he hovered, as if hoping she’d slip him a penny, but she didn’t have a penny.
She shrugged an apology and sent him on his way. She went to the bedroom and gave the envelope to Janet, then she sat on the sofa again. A few minutes later, Janet joined her. She was holding the letter, and she appeared stricken.
“What’s happened?” Caroline asked. “Don’t tell me it’s more bad news.”
“It’s from my attorney. He spoke to a banker about my allowance, and the account has been closed. The money was withdrawn yesterday.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. There’s not a single farthing remaining.”
“Who removed it?”
“The banker wouldn’t say, but it had to be Father. He’s trying to punish me and force me home.”
“So. . . you’re out of money, and I never had any in the first place. How much rent have you paid on this apartment? How long can we stay in it?”
“Two more weeks. Two weeks, and then, we’ll be out on the street.”
“Unless you can convince Blake to marry you. Or we could go to Grey’s Corner.”
Janet cringed. “I would be more likely to fly to the moon than to have either of those things occur.”
“Where could she
