Now, back at Highfield Hall for the wedding breakfast, introductions had been properly made, since most of the guests hadn’t met Maxwell. Currently, he was chatting with Louisa’s grandmother, Lady Hutton, the dowager countess. Well, not chatting, Louisa mused. Grandmama Hutton did not usually chat with anyone.
She conversed.
“Do you think he’ll survive?” a male voice said, in Louisa’s ear. “He’s formidable when confronting a group of investors in a boardroom, but I get the feeling he might have met his match with her ladyship.”
Louisa smiled up at Finlay, Maxwell’s younger brother. They’d been introduced at the church, and she’d liked himimmediately. The family resemblance manifested in little things; the similarity in height, the slight upward slant of the eyes when he smiled, as well as the smile itself, which seemed to come more easily to him than his older brother. His hair, a rich brown, was a shade lighter than Maxwell’s, though he had the same dark eyes.
And the same charming accent.
“Well, they’ve been conversing for at least five minutes,” Louisa replied, “and I don’t believe Grandmama has huffed once.”
“Huffing is bad?”
“Very.”
“Then maybe he’s giving her the sales talk. Before you know it, she’ll be a shareholder in the company.”
Louisa laughed. “Now, that would be an achievement.”
Finlay glanced about. “This is a remarkable house, I must say. The stories it could tell.”
Louisa nodded. “Endless, I should think. The site has been in use for about eight hundred years all told, although little remains of the original castle.”
“Has it been in your family that entire time?”
She shook her head. “Just the past six hundred years, though it comes down through my mother’s family, not my father’s.”
He laughed softly. “You make six hundred years sound like six months. Do you think I could have a tour of the place sometime? Not today, of course.”
“By all means, and why not today? I’m sure Julian would be happy to oblige. He loves showing it off.” Louisa looked about. “There he is. Follow me.”
“Are you sure?” Finlay asked. “I don’t want to impose.”
She waved a nonchalant hand. “It’s not an imposition at all.”
Julian, as expected, cheerfully agreed to the request and went off with Finlay, leaving Louisa with Josiah.
Of all her siblings, Josiah was the one she saw the least. As an artist at the Royal Academy, he lived permanently in London, much preferring city life to that of rural Yorkshire. He’d always been a little bitbohemién, going his own way rather than moving with the crowd. Being the second-born sibling, he filled the gap between Julian and Louisa. Though he matched his elder brother in height, they shared little else in appearance. Josiah’s tousled mass of tawny curls and striking blue eyes perfectly represented his artistic persona. Louisa adored him and secretly envied his unconventional approach to life.
“So, where are you going for your honeymoon, Lou?” he asked, eyeing the dessert table.
Louisa scoffed. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not? I won’t tell anyone.” Josiah shoved a sugared plum in his mouth, frowning as he chewed. “Florence, perhaps? Paris? Both?”
Louisa shook her head. “My lips are sealed.”
“All right, how about this.” Blue eyes twinkling, he cast a surreptitious glance around the room. “You tell me your secret and I’ll tell you mine.”
“You have a secret, Joe?”
“An absolute whopper.” Josiah’s eyes widened. “Ooh, marzipan.”
Louisa chuckled. “You haven’t stopped eating since we got back from the church. Do you not feed yourself in London?”
“I’m your cliché starving artist, dear sister.” He waggled a brow. “Or, at least, I was. Sold a few pieces recently. Acquired several commissions as well, including a couple that should prove to be rather lucrative. Beginning to make a name for myself.”
“Good for you, but even without those, you can’t actually be starving. What on earth do you spend your allowance on?”
