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intelligence, and I was intrigued by her boldness, too.”
    â€œBoldness?” Lady Oliver looked surprised. “Louisa?”
    James nodded. “It was certainly the first time I’d been put in my place like that by a young lady, especially since I inherited my title. I don’t mean to sing my own praises by any means; it is just that matchmaking mamas and determined daughters are usually very effusive.”
    â€œAnyway, that’s that,” Louisa said, still looking down at her plate. “It all happened very quickly, and as you gave your permission to the engagement, Papa, here we are.”
    She must have been more agitated than her smooth speech indicated, because she took a serving of the undesirable trout and raised a forkful to her lips. It was only once she placed the bite in her mouth that she realized what she’d done.
    Julia watched, fascinated, as her sister’s expression changed from distant to horrified. In Louisa’s place, she would simply have spat the bite into her napkin, but Louisa had always had better manners. She reached for her wineglass, only to find it almost empty.
    â€œTake mine,” Julia whispered.
    And with Louisa’s look of gratitude as she swallowed away the terrible taste, Julia felt the knot in her chest dissolve completely.

Chapter 3
    In Which Breakfast Is the Most Important Meal of the Day
    James awoke the next morning feeling much more at ease than he had the night before. A good night’s sleep had refreshed him, and he looked forward with eager anticipation to whatever unusual greetings the Olivers might have in store for him today.
    Would he be treated to a discussion of pig breeding? Or perhaps invited to consume a live chicken, personally captured by his lordship that morning?
    Or perhaps . . . he let his thoughts wander. Perhaps, in such an unconventional household, the young ladies were regularly left unsupervised. Perhaps he’d be left alone with . . .
    What was he thinking? With Louisa, of course. Certainly. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to be alone with his fiancée?
    He looked out his bedchamber window at the clear sky of a sunny morning, and his tangled thoughts straightened into a semblance of peacefulness at the pleasant sight of the bright day and the orderly grounds.
    With a bit of help from his fastidious manservant, Delaney, he attired himself nattily—if not exactly with attention to his pastoral surroundings—in blue coat, pale yellow pantaloons, mirror-bright Hessians, and crisp white linens. He quickly messed his light brown hair into place, accompanied by the pained groans of the manservant, for whose tastes he tended not to be fashionable enough.
    But James hardly noticed; he was looking forward with impatience to the first full day he had ever spent with his fiancée’s family. The cloudless blue sky and his well-rested body lifted his spirits, and he practically hummed with satisfaction as he thundered down the main staircase and into the breakfast parlor, thinking of steak and eggs.
    And found that there was no one there. And no food.
    Bewildered, James blinked, stared into all corners of the parlor, and checked the room’s dainty timepiece. It was only just now ten o’clock—what was going on here? He had heard of country hours, but this—well, this was ridiculous!
    Now that he noticed, the whole house was like a tomb. Where were all the servants? Where were all those little children? Where was Louisa? And where was Julia?
    He was just wondering.
    He was less than surprised, then, when the door behind him slammed open, light footsteps hurried in and skittered to a stop, and a feminine voice muttered, “Hell’s bells.”
    That could only be one person. Without turning around, he said, “Good morning, Julia.”
    She gasped. “Oh, no, not again.”
    He turned, unable to keep a teasing smile from his lips. “What am I to make of that greeting?