10
" I really don’t dance, Davis, but thank you for the offer.” “I don’t actually know the steps, Miss Millie, but it seems a shame that you and Miss Plum are looking so lovely tonight, but haven’t been given the opportunity to waltz.” “It’s a shame indeed.” Millie’s breath left her in a split second as Everett strolled across the terrace, smiling her way and looking remarkably handsome, at least to her, even though his face was still a bit of a disaster. Coming to a stop right in front of her, he nodded to Davis. “Perhaps you could offer Miss Plum a dance instead?” Davis’s eyes widened. He leaned closer to Everett and lowered his voice. “Miss Plum scares me, Mr. Mulberry. That’s why I asked Miss Millie. She’s safer.” “I’m completely safe, Davis,” Lucetta said with a huff before she took the poor man by the arm and grabbed hold of his other hand. “Allow me to teach you the basic steps of the waltz.” With Davis turning bright red, Lucetta sent Millie a wink and then spun Davis around, not giving the man an opportunity to refuse her demand of a waltz. “That’ll be something he’ll be able to talk about for years,” Millie said, catching Everett’s eye, which immediately had all the breath leaving her again. To her confusion, Everett frowned. “I must beg your pardon, Millie. I rather rudely stepped in between you and Davis. It has not escaped my notice that he seems a little . . . keen to be around you, and . . . if you’re, ah, keen to be around him, I won’t stand in your way.” Millie scrunched up her nose. “Davis has been secretly seeing one of the maids, Ann, for over a year now, so any keenness on his part has probably just been a ruse to hide that relationship. But don’t go letting anyone know about that relationship, and don’t even think about letting either Ann or Davis go from their positions.” “Since you told me you’re planning to tell Harriet about Davis and his tailoring skills, I have a feeling he won’t be in my employ long, but of course I won’t let him or Ann go.” “Wonderful, and . . . thank you for that.” “You’re welcome, and since that’s settled . . . shall we waltz?” “I should warn you that what we’re about to do will not remotely be considered a waltz, not given my two left feet.” “We’ll see about that.” Laughter rumbled in Everett’s chest but the rumbling died a sudden death when he pulled her close, his breath fanning her face. “Did I tell you how lovely you look tonight?” “I don’t believe so,” Millie managed to whisper. “Well, now you know, and . . . we’re waltzing.” Millie "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
12
" Glancing to Millie, Everett found her dashing a hand across her eyes, much like his mother had recently done. Not understanding in the least what had caused her to break into tears, he opened his mouth but was interrupted by Elizabeth. “You don’t mind if I call you Miss Millie, do you?” The reasoning behind the tears was immediate, and Everett couldn’t help feeling incredibly proud of Millie once again. She was already helping the children return to the adorable imps he’d once known, even if he’d forgotten how adorable they’d— “Of course you may call me Miss Millie, Elizabeth,” Millie said. “But, before we forget the request Mrs. Mulberry left you, I say . . . get the bucket, and get it now.” Before he could voice a single protest, Millie and Elizabeth jumped his way, and with renewed shouts of laughter, water began splashing once again, even as a sense that the world as he knew it had changed forever took root inside him. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
13
" Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he found Lucetta struggling to get Millie buttoned into her gown. Both ladies had barely taken any time at all to throw off their bathing attire and don dresses before they’d jumped into his buggy. When he’d voiced his amazement about how quickly they’d been able to leave Abigail’s cottage and get on their way, they’d proclaimed, somewhat indignantly, that it was not exactly the moment to primp. Caroline and her friends wouldn’t have stepped so much as a toe out of their homes unless they were coiffed to perfection. But there was something charming about barreling down the road with ladies missing stockings and shoes, although he was a little ashamed of himself for sneaking a bit of a peek when Millie had rolled stockings up her legs. It wasn’t well done of him, that peeking, but . . . he was only human after all, and . . . she had lovely legs. Although, it wasn’t well done of him, either, to be looking at any legs other than Caroline’s, not that he’d actually seen Caroline roll stockings up her legs. But since Caroline had disclosed such disturbing notions only hours before, he couldn’t help wonder why he hadn’t ended their alliance right then and there, which would have made his— “Scoot closer to Everett. I don’t have enough room to work,” Lucetta said. “I’m practically sitting on the poor man’s lap as it is,” Millie countered, although she did scoot another inch in his direction, that scooting leaving him with a strong desire to throw himself off the buggy seat because her knee was now firmly pressed against his leg. Resignation settled in as he realized there was no longer any denying the fact, whether appropriate or not, he was attracted to Millie. When he’d first touched her in the bathing machine, a shock of something sweet had coursed through him, that sweetness almost causing him to lose all good sense and . . . kiss her. That he hadn’t given in to that concerning urge was a miracle. But, instead of immediately diving back into the sea and putting as much distance between them as possible, he’d proceeded to torture himself further by teaching her to swim. Every time he’d touched her after that had been somewhat agonizing, but he hadn’t stopped, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to resist being in her company . . . to resist having an excuse to touch her. His behavior was completely irrational, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
16
" There,” Lucetta proclaimed. “You’re completely buttoned. Now all we have to do is fix your hair, and you’ll be perfect.” “I don’t know how you’re intending to fix my hair, especially since it’s still soaking wet, and . . . stiff with sea salt.” “I’m an actress. Fixing appearances is my specialty.” Lucetta looked a little smug as she adjusted the large hat she’d plopped over her head. “My hair is salt-soaked as well, but no one will notice since I’ve arranged my hat just so, lending me a rather mysterious air.” “You could plop a bowl of fruit on your head and you’d still look mysterious,” Millie said. “I wish I had one of my caps handy. That would solve my hair crisis nicely.” Everett caught Millie’s eye. “I never liked your caps.” “They’re practical.” “And ugly,” Lucetta added, smiling over Millie’s head at him. She pulled a hat from behind her on the seat that was a little squished, and stuck it on Millie’s head, pulling a pin out of the bodice of her dress and sticking it through the hat. “There—you’re adorable.” “I "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
17
" After securing the horse, he turned to help Millie and Lucetta down from the seat but found them already on the ground. “I could have helped you,” he said, moving up to them and extending Millie, then Lucetta, an arm. “As Lucetta mentioned before, this isn’t exactly the time to be worried about proper manners,” Millie said, taking the offered arm. “Besides, since we are at the docks—even though we’re in Newport—Lucetta and I need to look like we can take care of ourselves, which means we need to look intimidating.” “You couldn’t look intimidating if you were sporting a rifle and held a knife between your teeth.” “I’m sure I would look intimidating under those circumstances.” Everett’s lips twitched. “Well, since I don’t have a rifle or a knife, we’ll just have to hope that all these men milling about the docks find me intimidating.” “I can look intimidating,” Lucetta said as she took his offered arm, right before she drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she opened her eyes again, she looked . . . different. Gone was the quirky woman with the ready grin and sharp wit, replaced with a lady who was aloof, mysterious, and . . . a little scary. “How do you do that?” he asked. “Don’t ruin the mood” was all Lucetta said before she sent Millie the smallest of winks and started forward, leaving Everett no option but to keep pace with her, since both ladies were holding his arms. An "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
18
" Caroline sent another lovely smile his way, which he found less than reassuring, before she waved a hand to the crowd which had them falling silent again. “Now . . . on to the surprise. Darling, would you do the honors?” Everett’s feet remained rooted to the spot, but then, oddly enough, Dudley strode out of the crowd, across the ballroom floor, stopped by Caroline’s side, turned, and smiled. “Treasured friends, it is with great pleasure that I’m finally able to announce, here at Mr. Everett Mulberry’s ball, that Miss Caroline Dixon has agreed . . . to become my wife.” The silence was deafening as every single guest turned disbelieving eyes on Everett. For the span of a split second, he had no idea what to do, but then, he allowed himself the luxury of doing exactly what came naturally . . . he laughed. His feet were suddenly able to move again, and he turned those feet in Caroline’s direction. Reaching her side a moment later, he leaned forward, ignored the triumph lingering in her eyes, and kissed her soundly on the cheek, earning a hiss from her in response which he also ignored. “Thank you, my dear, for giving me the greatest gift possible . . . my freedom.” When Caroline began sputtering, he looked to Dudley. “Well played, old friend, well played indeed. I wish you the very best of luck.” Turning, Everett faced the crowd. “A toast—to Dudley and Caroline, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Dudley Codman. May they enjoy a happy life together.” The "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
19
" You might think you’ve won this, Everett, but I assure you, you haven’t.” Looking down at her, Everett kept a smile on his face even as his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” “Did you truly believe I’d allow her to win? Allow a little nobody nanny to steal my gentleman away from me? I set her straight, I did, got her to see the truth about you, and . . . I might have mentioned that you and I were going forward with our engagement plans.” “You lied to Millie?” “I did you a favor,” Caroline corrected. “Where is she?” “She scurried off back to that dreadful Mrs. Hart’s cottage. If you leave right now, you might be able to catch her. However . . . I don’t think she’ll listen to any sappy words you might want to tell her. I was very, very . . . convincing. Oh, and I dismissed her as the nanny, so, now that I think about it, she might already be heading out of Newport since there was no reason for her to take the children with her when she left Seaview.” “Where are the children?” he asked. Caroline shrugged. “I told them to stay up in Elizabeth’s room, but since those children don’t exactly like to behave, they could be anywhere by now.” Swallowing the words he wanted to say, words that were not very gentlemanly at all, Everett brushed past Caroline and headed out of the ballroom, unmindful of the titters that followed him. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
