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She tugged them out of the warm parlor and into the hall, where a young man fidgeted with his cravat. He was tall and sandy haired, and his left coat sleeve was folded up and pinned to his shoulder.

“This is Mr. Graham, formerly Captain Graham.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” Mr. Graham said, bowing. “I sold my commission after my injury this past winter and thought to spend the summer by the seaside to speed my recovery.”

Caroline’s heartstrings tugged. “War is a terrible thing,” she said. “You are brave, sir.”

Betsy stood tall beside him. “He is a wonderful poet, Caroline.”

“I blush to hear it,” he said with a grin. “But I am not half the poet your sister is. Miss Betsy has an extraordinary way with words.”

Caroline was so surprised she could have fallen over, had there been space enough in the hallway. Her sister, a poet? Though she supposed it shouldn’t be a shock, given the volumes of verse that she consumed.

Betsy beamed at him. “Mr. Graham is ever so dashing. He fought a duel once, you know. I have invited him tonight for the dancing.”

A duel?Caroline’s heart sank. There went her hopes that her sister had found a decent man.

“Bonaparte took my arm but not my legs, and I am always happy for an opportunity to dance. Especially with a fine woman like your sister.” He gazed at Betsy.

Lady Margaret clapped her hands. “A former army captain! What a wondrous thing. You are certainly welcome.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Graham.” Caroline studied him. He had a kind face, and there was no doubting the affection in his eyes when he stared at her sister. But Betsy had so many other opportunities waiting for her inside already, which would provide her with wealth and security. Most importantly, with men who hadn’t fought duels. “However, I am sorry to say that the parlor is full.”

His face fell, and Betsy looked outraged. “There is enough space for one more,” she argued.

“I am sorry,” Caroline repeated.

“There is always room for a fine military man and a young lady on any dance floor,” Lady Margaret said, glaring at Caroline. She ushered the couple into the parlor, leaving Caroline and Arabella alone together in the hall.

“Caroline, that was not well done of you,” Arabella said, pushing her spectacles up.

“Betsy needs no encouragement right now for unsuitable suitors.”

“What’s unsuitable about him?” Caroline could see the censure in her eyes. “The duel? I agree that it doesn’t bode well, but we don’t yet know the circumstances. You have grown too proud.”

“Proud? I am not,” she snapped. “I am not convinced, after one meeting where Betsy has ill-advisedly invited him to a party already far too crowded for propriety’s sake, that he would be the right choice for my sister. You know she is all too willing to throw herself at a pretty face with a scoundrel’s heart.”

“He seems nice—and she seemshappy. How many suitors has she had that have ended up in nothing? What is the harm in allowing her to dance with Mr. Graham for an evening?”

“This is the first serious suitor she has had since the inheritance. I was the one responsible for turning away her former beaux when Jacob was not yet of age. But would Jacob deny his favorite sister if Mr. Graham asked for her hand tomorrow? He would give her whatever she pleased. They are two halves of the same coin.”

“Give them both some credit, darling. But don’t worry for now. There is time to learn more about Mr. Graham, and time for you and Jacob and Betsy to speak of it. But not tonight.”

Caroline didn’t want to talk about it. She darted a look around, then leaned forward and kissed Arabella, pressing her against the wall. She trailed kisses from her mouth down her neck, and then pressed one against the swell of her breast. “Stay with me tonight?”

Her eyes were shining. “I would love to.”

The front door opened and shut with a bang. Caroline sprang apart from Arabella as Jacob and a passel of exuberant young men with wild eyes and rumpled hair staggered into the house, laughing riotously.

“Jacob Reeve, what is this?” she asked. “We have no room for more guests.”

He darted into the library and came out with a decanter of brandy and a brace of snifters. “Don’t worry, Caro! We’re all set up in the garden. I had the footmen set up a table and there are lanterns aplenty, so we shan’t be a bother to you.”

The reek of drink was unmistakeable as Jacob and the gentlemen filed past.

“We’ll be as quiet as anything!” he called out over his shoulder.

Caroline sighed and leaned her forehead against Arabella’s for a moment. So much for her guise that everything was running smoothly in the Reeve household. “I must find Mr. Taylor.”