“Guests?” Nan arranged her skirts carefully about her as her stomach sank.
“Yes.” Daniel clambered inside, tugging the door shut behind him. “An old friend of Paul’s, and his sister.”
Oh, no. Surely not. Nan breathed carefully in and out. She was barely able to force herself to attend a family dinner tonight, but if the guests were whom she thought they were—
“The Reeds.” Susannah tugged on her glove as Daniel rapped on the window of the coach. The carriage started forward with a low rumble. “John Reed, and his sister, Jane.”
“I daresay you’ll enjoy meeting my sister-in-law, even though she can be a little trying,” Paul Holmes muttered from his place by the hearth. “She’s got a fine head for business, but it’s difficult to get her to talk about much else. You won’t find her much of a dinner partner.”
John shrugged. He didn’t really want to spoil the surprise by telling Paul about meeting Miss Siddons earlier in the day. No, it would be much more fun to play dumb until she walked back in the door. “Why won’t she talk about much else?” He might as well find out a little more about her while they were waiting for her to arrive. It would, at least, distract them from the real purpose of his visit. Learning how to be a proper master was certainly no stroll down Rotten Row.
“I spent some time with Nan and with my wife, Becky, before even Susannah and Daniel were wed. Picnics, games, that kind of sport. Nan’s all right. A bit practical, mind you, but a good girl of a fine Christian family. Of course, my mind is always taken up with my wife—even before I knew I was in love with Becky, I spent as much time with her as I could.”
“Even to the point of hiring her as your niece’s nursemaid?” John couldn’t suppress a roguish grin.
Paul eyed him sharply over the rim of his teacup. “Watch yourself, man. As I said, the Siddonses are above reproach, particularly where the finer points of morality are concerned.”
“I don’t intend to imply anything unseemly. Beg pardon.” John choked back his gleeful grin. It never failed to amuse him that he’d discovered Paul’s feelings for Becky before the man himself knew them to be true.
“As I was saying,” Paul continued, with the air of a man being robbed of all patience, “I concentrated my thoughts upon Becky. Susannah was, of course, already spoken for by Daniel. Nan was a bit of a gooseberry, I suppose. She is younger, too, than her sisters. I suppose she maintains her pretense of practicality, and devotes herself to her work, as a way of proving herself worthy.”
“Worthy of what?” John desperately wished for a before-dinner sherry, but there was not a drop to be had at Kellridge Hall. Now that Paul had changed his entire life around and found, as he said, the Lord, anything that led to debauchery had been banned from the Hall, including liquor.
“I don’t know exactly what. All I can tell you is that Nan is seeking to prove herself just as her sisters did before her. She lacks Susannah’s fire and Becky’s beauty and grace. But there’s a charm about her all the same, for all her plainspokenness. Once, Daniel told me that the Siddons girls work on a man like a tonic. I vow it must be true.” Paul broke off as the door opened and his lovely wife, Becky, entered the parlor. Both men rose to greet her.
“Whatever are you two men talking about?” Becky stood on tiptoe to peck her husband’s cheek, and the sudden movement revealed the thickening about her middle. Paul would be a father soon, and he would be a good one, too. A rush of inexplicable emotion washed over John, leaving him feeling—of all things—envious. Paul was an excellent master, and a stalwart husband. He had taken in his niece, Juliet, as his ward, and was as good to her as a father would be. In a matter of months, he would become a father again by Becky, and would do credit to those duties, as well.
What of it? John shrugged his shoulders, irritated by these thoughts. Paul never came to the gaming tables any longer, or squired women of ill repute around to dubious locations in London. Surely he missed that sort of fun.
John watched hungrily as Becky patted her husband on the shoulder. What would it feel like, being that beloved by someone? “Jane and I are waiting for both of you. Why don’t you come join us in the little parlor off the dining room? Daniel and Susannah will be here in a matter of moments.”
It was not lost on John that she failed to mention Nan, too. Nan Siddons was, it seemed, truly a lost member of her own family—forgotten and neglected.
Yet, he was anticipating her arrival much more keenly than any other person in her party. Would she pretend not to recognize him? Would she join with him in witty repartee? Would her personality be any different than it had been when they met earlier in the day?
He rose and followed his host and hostess out of the room. Kellridge Hall was not as grand a home as his own Grant Park, but it was well run and graciously appointed. Paul ruled the household with a firm hand, that much was certain. Nothing ever seemed out of place at Kellridge. That was why John sought him out. No man could give better advice on the running of a vast estate—something that other fellows seemed born to do. Perhaps, once matters at Grant Park were well in hand, he could leave it behind for months at a time, and continue his roguish ways in London. That was how Paul had managed his life—well, before he met Becky.
As they passed by the front hall, the butler opened the door. A decidedly irritated-looking Nan Siddons marched in, yanking on her bonnet strings.
“Nan!” Becky broke away from her husband and trotted over to embrace her sister. “So good to see you.”
Nan patted her sister’s back and then said, her voice low and urgent, “I need to talk to you and to Susannah. I’ve some news about the shop.”
“The shop can wait,” Becky replied with a little laugh. “We have guests. Mr. John Reed, may I present my sister, Nan Siddons.” She waved her arm in John’s general direction.
Nan nodded and bobbed the slightest of curtsies. Her eyes flashed, and her brows drew together. He cast his most charming smile her way, and bowed deeply. There was something about the spark in her eyes that he wanted to investigate further. His initial suspicion was correct. Nan Siddons could be jolly good fun if she’d let herself go a bit.
“Yes, I know Mr. Reed. I met him today, and will be making a bonnet for his sister.” Nan turned as Susannah and Daniel came through the doorway.
Any sensation Nan’s response might have stirred up was drowned out by her eldest sister’s arrival. Susannah commanded the attention of everyone in the hallway, kissing her sisters, curtsying to John, ordering Daniel about and chiding Paul for what she perceived as the lack of proper maintenance on the curving path that led up to the front gates of Kellridge Hall. This, of course, raised Paul’s ire, and John watched as Becky, Paul, Daniel and Susannah drifted down the hallway, engrossed in loud conversation.
Nan stood with her bonnet dangling uselessly from one hand. “Now I’ll never get the chance,” she muttered fiercely.
“I beg your pardon?” John drew closer to her side. She looked both angry and deflated.
Nan turned to him, as though surprised he was still there. “I had rather hoped to speak to my sisters about a pressing matter of business, but it appears I will have no opportunity to do so.”
He offered her his elbow. “Perhaps we should join them?”
Nan shook her head and cast her bonnet onto the polished mahogany table nearby. “You may go in without me. I need a moment to collect myself.”
“You really should allow yourself to have more fun, you know,” he chided gently. “Why not talk about business matters some other time?”
Nan rounded on him, her blue eyes darkening to black. “Fun? If my business crashes because the village shopkeeper