to help when they were standing in the entry hall had an authentic ring to it. He was so handsome that she had to force herself to meet his gaze—something she’d made herself do when she was trying to convince him her shop was worthy of their business. Now, in the intimacy of a family dinner party, being so closely regarded by those brown eyes was well-nigh unendurable.
“I believe it was Byron who said that a woman shouldn’t eat anything in public,” she rejoined. “I am merely following his dictates.”
John laughed. “I find it very doubtful that someone with your strength of character would follow the edicts of any man.”
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed. Her head ached and the lump simply wouldn’t stop choking her throat.
“I know you are worried about your business, but have faith,” he rejoined. “I am certain we can find a solution to the problem if we simply ponder it.”
“No one really wishes to ponder it,” Nan replied as lightly as she could manage. “But I do thank you for your offer.”
Susannah rose, and with her, Becky and Jane stood. Placing her fork to one side, Nan followed suit. Now, perhaps, she would have a few moments to get her sisters’ attention.
But as soon as they entered the parlor, Susannah turned conversation to Becky’s pregnancy. Nan sighed as she took her place beside Jane on the settee. As Susannah prattled on about nursemaids and physicians, Nan’s patience grew thinner and thinner. Becky had ample time to plan the circumstances of her first child’s birth, and more to the point, she had a right to choose how it happened without Susannah’s list of instructions.
“Oh, do be quiet, Susannah,” Nan finally snapped. If she heard any more from her eldest sister, she’d not even make it home before she began crying in frustration.
Becky and Susannah stared frankly at her, and Jane gave a pained little gasp. Regret tore at Nan’s heart. She’d hate for Jane to think ill of her, even if she was highly annoyed with her sisters.
“I beg your pardon?” Susannah leveled her best glare at Nan, the one that had worked so many times before to bring Nan to heel.
“I said, do be quiet,” Nan repeated. Now that she was in, she might as well muck on further. “It’s ridiculous to prattle on when Becky has loads of time to plan her child’s arrival. Let her be.”
Becky breathed a little sigh of relief and cast a grateful glance Nan’s way. Perhaps she had grown weary of Susannah’s bossiness, as well.
“There is a problem that’s more pressing than anything else at the moment, because it threatens the well-being of our business,” Nan continued, meeting Susannah’s gaze steadily. “The grocer has hired a French milliner and her work is cutting deeply into our profits.”
“Is this all?” Susannah rested her back against the seat of the settee, arranging her skirts so they hung in graceful folds to the floor. “Surely one milliner won’t hurt the shop. Indeed, some competition could be good for business.”
“I’ve only sold two bonnets in the past week.” On the one hand, it was humiliating to admit the truth. On the other, it was a bit of a relief to share how badly things were going. “You know that we usually do at least three times that much, even when things are slow.”
“I don’t see how the new milliner can really be hurting your shop.” Becky’s subtle emphasis on your was not lost on Nan. If there was ever any doubt that the shop was hers alone to make a success of or not, this conversation was making the matter as clear as could be. “I am sure, as a Frenchwoman, her designs are quite smart. Your designs tend toward the practical, Nan. I am certain there is room for both in this village.”
Tears pricked the back of Nan’s eyes. Once, the three sisters had braved the difficulties of life in Uncle Arthur’s home, as he squandered what was left of their small fortune. Later, their closeness had endured through Susannah’s courtship with Daniel. Even Becky’s courtship with Paul had not left Nan unaffected. Yet now she was really and truly alone. Her sisters, so quick to rush to each other’s aid in times past, now had different concerns and priorities.
She was about to say something—anything—to try once more to get them to understand, when the parlor door opened and the gentlemen filed in.
Well, there was nothing to do now. She would simply have to take care of this matter on her own. She found a seat in a quiet corner of the room, her head throbbing. Jane cast a tight little smile her way and then turned her attention to her brother. In all likelihood, Jane was telling him that the Siddons shop was a dismal failure, and that they should take their business elsewhere. Well, Jane would say it more nicely than that. But her impassioned plea to her sisters probably cost her the one customer she’d gotten in the past few weeks.
“I daresay there’s at least one lady present who can play the pianoforte,” John spoke up, rising from his seat. “Why don’t we have a dance? Just an informal little hop.”
Becky rose. “I can’t really dance right now, so I will be happy to play.”
Nan stifled a groan as her brothers-in-law moved chairs and settees back to the sides of the room, and rolled up one of the rugs. She really wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a dance. Even at her most lighthearted moments, she had little patience for dancing. At the moment, her feet felt positively leaden.
Becky struck up a simple little tune, playing variations on the theme as the gentlemen finished preparing the room. Nan rose. Perhaps she could leave early. She cast a quick glance out the window. Dusk had deepened over the moor. There was no way she could walk without possibly tripping and falling or getting lost. She could ask Susannah for the use of her carriage, but that would call attention to herself. The only way it would work is if she was able to slip away unnoticed.
“Don’t tell me that you’re about to make a jump for it.” Nan jerked slightly as John spoke. He must have sidled up to her when she was preoccupied with managing her escape. “The way you are staring out that window, I wouldn’t be surprised if you threw up the sash and leaped out onto the moor.”
Nan forced a polite smile. “I don’t care much for dancing.”
John extended his palm with a bow. “I doubt that. I think you would be an excellent partner.”
Becky swung into the country dance as John led Nan out to the cleared space in the middle of the room. She pushed aside all thoughts of her business as she concentrated on the steps. They were so intricate and if she wasn’t careful, she’d slip and end up on the floor.
“Already you look more at ease,” John remarked as they moved through a figure. “Somehow, I knew you were born for dancing.”
Nan’s heart fluttered the tiniest bit. Stop being so ridiculous. That was the sort of compliment young men gave to young women all the time. He meant nothing by it, and she mustn’t let a mild pleasantry turn her head. “Why, thank you.”
“I think I have a solution to your business problem,” John continued, taking her hand as they stepped closer together and then apart. “If your work is pleasing to my sister—and she will need to see a sample of it first, of course—I should like to hire you to do her entire wardrobe for her Season in London. Everything she needs, from gowns to riding habits to, of course, bonnets.”
“Everything?” She hesitated for a fraction of a second, and it threw
