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At least if Corrie married James, he wouldn’t end up with an awful wife like Juliette, who wouldn’t appreciate how smart he was, how very clever and witty he was, who would whine if she had to lie atop a small hill and look up at the stars whilst James was peering through his telescope at the Andromeda constellation in the northern sky. Juliette would probably think that Andromeda was a new perfume from France.

Corrie sighed. When he’d slid his tongue in her mouth, a million stars had exploded in her head, Andromeda probably among them, and she knew that stars were only the beginning. Had it been the same for James? Probably not. He was a man.

Judith McCrae was nearly at the front door. What did she want? She barely knew the girl, knew only that she’d been flirting with Jason. She rose, shook out her skirts, and waited for Tamerlane, Uncle Simon’s London butler, to announce her, which he did, his bright red hair shining in the morning light.

He stood in the open drawing room doorway, cleared his throat, and trumpeted, “Miss Judith McCrae of the Irish McCraes in Waterford begs to be allowed to see Miss Corrie Tybourne-Barrett.”

Corrie heard a female giggle, and was that a choked laugh from Tamerlane? Then here came Miss McCrae walking gracefully into the drawing room, a big smile on her face, knowing she’d charmed with that clever introduction. Corrie smiled back at her, charmed indeed.

“How very delightful to see you, Miss Tybourne-Barrett. I understand from my Aunt Arbuckle that you and James Sherbrooke are to be married.”

Corrie grunted.

“Do you think we’ll be related?”

This was frank speaking, indeed. And vastly clever, so clever that you didn’t want to smack her, you wanted to laugh, so that meant Miss McCrae was a very smart girl. Corrie said, “No, Miss McCrae, James and I have not decided to get married, so I’d say it looks bleak, our being related. Would you like some tea?”

“Please, call me Judith. I’d taken your grunt for a yes. I think Lord Hammersmith is a very persistent man, possibly as persistent as his brother. Persistent is a very nice way of saying that they are both stubborn as goats. But who knows? I am very persistent as well. Jason needs me, you know, just as Lord Hammersmith needs you.”

“Miss McCrae-”

“Call me Judith,” this said with a sunny smile that brought out the deep dimples on either side of her quite lovely mouth. Corrie sighed. “Judith, James doesn’t need anyone, particularly me. This marriage, if there must be one, is being foisted on the two of us. Oh dear, I don’t really know you, and here I am bleating out everything to you.”

“I know, I sometimes do the same thing, particularly when something very deep inside me recognizes that I can trust another person.”

Corrie cast about for someone she’d known who was even a little bit like this young lady, but she couldn’t. Judith appeared to be unique.

“I didn’t realize you knew Jason so well.”

“Not well at all yet, but I do know that I want him rather desperately. I have never seen a more lovely man in all my life, but you know-that’s not all that important, now is it?”

Corrie saw James quite clearly in her mind, and slowly, she shook her head. “No, I suppose it isn’t, except when one simply wants to look at him, and sigh with pleasure.”

“Yes, indeed. It makes my toes tingle to think of it. Now, I must make Jason realize that he wants me as desperately. What with the threat on his father’s life, however, it makes it difficult to snag his attention. He is distracted.”

“I would be too if someone were trying to kill my father.” The way Corrie had snagged James’s attention was to save him, then nurse him, perhaps not a preferred method of attracting a gentleman.

Uncle Simon walked into the room, his beautiful eyes focused on something only he could see, probably some blasted leaf he was creating in his mind that hadn’t yet been invented by Nature.

“Uncle Simon, this is Miss Judith McCrae.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re not alone, Corrie.” He blinked his thick lashes over his lovely eyes and bowed. “Miss McCrae, how very charming you appear to be. Naturally, one never really knows another, particularly when one has just met, don’t you agree?”

“Only a very stupid person would disagree, my lord.”

“And this is my uncle, Lord Montague.” Corrie tried not to giggle as she watched Uncle Simon take Miss McCrae’s hand, and give her his full attention for perhaps three seconds, just long enough for Judith to fully realize that although he might be a bit on the older side, he was still a pleasurable eyeful for the ladies.

Judith appeared to have more abilities with regard to gentlemen than Corrie did. Her dimples deepened, she looked up at Uncle Simon through lashes that looked thicker than Juliette’s, and said, “I understand that you are an expert in the identification and preservation of all sorts of leaves, my lord. I found one in the park last Tuesday morning that I was unable to identify. Perhaps-”

“A leaf? You found an unknown leaf, Miss McCrae? In the park? Why, so did I. What an amazing coincidence. Please bring it over and we will compare leaves.” He beamed down at Miss McCrae, seated himself, and said to Corrie, “It appears I am in luck. Your aunt is out shopping and Cook has prepared”-his voice dropped dramatically-“Twyley Grange cinnamon bread.” Uncle Simon dropped his voice even further to a near whisper. “I myself brought her the recipe. She’s been all atwitter, pumping herself up to do it, and so she has, finally. She has prepared six slices, nice thick slices. Since Miss McCrae is here, that means we can’t split them, Corrie. Now it means that we each will get to eat two, unless either of you is perhaps trying to lose flesh? No, Corrie, you’re still too thin.” There was a doleful sigh here. “You’ll need to eat both of yours, I’m afraid.” He cast a critical eye toward Judith, whose figure was well-nigh perfect, and said thoughtfully, “A young lady can never be too careful with her intake of bread, don’t you agree, Miss McCrae?”

“I have always practiced eating only one slice, sir. Two would make my cheeks fat. It has always been so.”

“Excellent.” Simon rubbed his hands together and yelled, “Tamerlane! Bring in the cinnamon bread, and quickly, man. It’s possible that Lady Montague might return sooner than any of us would wish.”

Judith shot Corrie a look, demurely seated herself, and waited for the cinnamon bread to be delivered. The twinkle in her dark eyes was outrageous.

When Tamerlane, with great ceremony, whisked off the silver dome from the small platter, the smell of cinnamon wafted into the room. There was utter silence, then Judith sucked in her breath. “Oh goodness, do they taste as good as they smell?”

Tamerlane announced, “This is the exact recipe from Cook at Twyley Grange. They are beyond compare.”

“How the devil would you know that, Tamerlane? Cook said she made a loaf of only six slices. Was there another slice and you filched it? Stuffed it down your own gullet? Actually robbed me of a seventh?”

“No, my lord, it was a measly extra piece that didn’t fit nicely into the glorious loaf that Cook fashioned. She allowed me to eat it, to ensure that it would be to your exacting standards.” Tamerlane beamed and passed the platter first to Miss McCrae. Judith grabbed a slice and had it in her mouth so quickly it set her nose to quivering. She chewed, eyes closed in bliss, before Uncle Simon could grab his slice off the platter, which he did soon enough.

Corrie was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing. It gave Judith time to snag a second slice right off the plate beneath Uncle Simon’s nose, back quickly away from him since he looked ready to grab it out of her hand, and say, her mouth full, “I don’t think you’re too thin at all, Corrie. Indeed, I was thinking that perhaps your face was a little on the plump side and you could cut yourself down to one slice-oh goodness, this is the best cinnamon bread I’ve ever eaten in my life.”