In Good Company Quotes

“With that, Millie closed her eyes, kept them closed a good long moment, whispered an "Amen," then opened her eyes.
"Were you just...praying?" Everett asked.
"I always pray before I proceed with a life-threatening situations."
"Does it help?"
"I'm still alive, aren't I?”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Setting the flowers, roots and all, aside, Millie crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't insult my intelligence, Everett. You wouldn't be bringing me flowers or children if something of a disastrous nature hadn't occurred.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“It's an unspoken requirement that women who choose to look after children for a living have a strong liking for all manner of creatures. ~Millie Longfellow”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“ Since I don't know what execrable means, I though I should look it up so I'll be better equipped to deal with whatever I'm about to see." Ignoring the ladies' tottering Millie continued perusing the pages until she found the word she was looking for. Lifting her head after she read the definition, she glanced around. "Begging your pardon Mrs. Cutling, but I don't see anything out here of a wretched or"- she returned her attention to the dictionary- "abominable nature. Although" -she flipped the pages to the A's -" I don't know what that means either.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“All women are complicated, son. You should simply accept that for fact and be prepared to be confused for the rest of your life.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Surely you’re not going to destroy another book, are you?” “I’ve decided my obsession with reading has gotten me absolutely nowhere, so . . . I’m tossing all the nonsense out of my life and intend to travel forth with less baggage.” “You love to read.” “And I’ll occasionally indulge that love, but enough is enough.” She held up her copy of Pride and Prejudice. “This, for all intent and purposes, is a fairy tale. I’m done with fairy tales for good, as well as anything by Shakespeare. I loathe his stories, don’t understand most of what he’s written, and I was only reading them because of any future children I hoped to have. But since I’m destined to remain a spinster forever . . . I’m chucking them into the fire.” “What do Shakespeare and any children you might have in the future have in common?” Millie sent him a look that clearly said she found him a little dense. “I wanted to be knowledgeable so that my children wouldn’t suffer any embarrassment because of my ignorance and lack of education.” Everett’s mouth dropped open before he had the presence of mind to snap it shut when she shot him a glare. Bracing himself in case she got it into her head to punch him as she’d done Mr. Victor, Everett stepped closer to her and pried the copy of Pride and Prejudice out of her hand. “Any child would be lucky to call you mother, Millie. You’re smart, well-read, curious about everything, and have a true love for children.” Staring at him for a long moment, Millie tilted her head. “I knew we should have summoned the physician to take a look at you after your last brawl.” “My wits are not addled, Millie. Quite honestly, my mind is clearer right now than it’s been in years.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, relieved when her eyes widened just a bit. “And I have to tell you something else.” “What?” she asked in a voice that sounded somewhat breathless. “I can’t allow you to burn any Jane Austen book—but especially not Pride and Prejudice.” “That’s what you have to say to me—that I can’t burn a silly book?” “I finished the story, Millie. I read Pride and Prejudice from cover to cover, and . . . I’m your Mr. Darcy and you’re my Lizzy.” “You . . . finished . . . the story?” “Indeed. And if you didn’t hear me the first time, I’m Mr. Darcy.” “I’m fairly certain Mr. Darcy would have had an English accent, but since Lizzy did enjoy reading, I suppose it’s not too much of a stretch to compare me with her, although. . . .” As Millie continued talking, really rapidly at that, Everett simply watched her, taking in every detail of her face. Her green eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of pink. Brown curls had begun to escape the pins someone had put in her hair, and a spray of flowers that had been tucked into that hair was hanging somewhat forlornly over her ear. Her lips were still moving incredibly fast, but the second his gaze settled on them, he couldn’t seem to look away. They were delightful lips, just the right shade of pink, and . . . Everett leaned forward and claimed those rapidly moving lips with his own. For”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“When you were in Saratoga Springs with us, did you throw me up high while we were in the water and then laugh when Daddy claimed you were giving him heart palpitations?” “I must admit that I did.” A little ghost of a smile played around the corners of her lips. “I remember that.” Dorothy”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Did you see how the ball bounced right off her head? That was great, and one of the best things I’ve . . .” “It was not great that I bounced a ball off of Miss Dixon’s head,” Millie interrupted, her words causing the grin to slide right off Elizabeth’s face. “Sure it was,” Elizabeth countered. “She deserved it because she only wanted to play tennis with you in order to embarrass you, but . . . that didn’t turn out how she wanted, did it?” “I don’t know about that. I was pretty embarrassed when all those people started wagging their fingers at me, and especially when Gertrude began yelling at me that I was unnatural and shouldn’t be allowed in public.” Millie shuddered. “But my embarrassment aside, you, Elizabeth, have some explaining to do regarding that nasty business with the croquet ball. You could have seriously injured Miss Dixon.” Elizabeth looked less than contrite. “I was hoping if I conked her in the head, she’d lose her memory and forget all about the boarding school plan.” She suddenly looked a little hopeful. “Do you think your conking her on the head might have rattled her memory a little?” “Miss Dixon seemed perfectly coherent, and that means logical, when she took to screaming at me, so no, I think her memory is still intact. I believe it might be easier all around though, if you’d just talk to Uncle Everett about your feelings regarding boarding school instead of thinking up dangerous plots that will certainly see you sent off to one.” “If”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“I’ll serve first, shall I?” Caroline called across the net as she plucked a ball out of her pocket, stepped up to the line, and tossed it into the air, leaving Millie, who was supposed to be the recipient of the serve, barely any time to get ready. All the breath seemed to leave him as the ball traveled rather slowly over the net. But then Millie drew back her racquet and . . . slammed the ball back Caroline’s way, the force of her swing completely unexpected given her small size. Before Caroline even moved, the ball shot past her. “Was that out?” Caroline demanded, swinging around. “It was in,” called a lady from the stands. Caroline spun to face Millie as Nora flashed a cheeky grin. “Love-fifteen,” Nora called. “I know how to keep score,” Caroline snapped back. Unfortunately, the game did not get better for Caroline after that. Millie had obviously not been exaggerating when she’d claimed she’d played tennis before, but it was clear that she hadn’t been playing with young boys. She was all over the court, hitting anything Caroline or Gertrude managed to get over the net, while Nora simply strolled back and forth, swinging her racquet, and at one point, whistling a jaunty tune. When it was Millie’s turn to serve, matters turned downright concerning. Gertrude was the first to try and return Millie’s serve, but when the ball came rushing at her, she screamed, dropped her racquet, and ran the other way, earning a screech from Caroline until she seemed to recall that her turn was next. “Give her a fast one, Miss Longfellow,” Thaddeus called. Millie lowered her racquet to send Thaddeus another wave. “Miss Longfellow, we are in the middle of a match here,” Caroline yelled across the net. “Forgive me, Miss Dixon. You’re quite right.” As if the world had suddenly slowed down, Everett watched as Millie threw the ball up, and then the racquet connected squarely with it, the thud of the connection reaching his ears. It began to move, and then the world sped up as the ball hurled at Caroline, and . . . smacked her right in the middle of the forehead, the impact knocking Caroline off her feet. Her skirt fluttered up, showing a bit of leg. Millie immediately began running across the court. Darting around the net, she raced to Caroline’s side, and yanked Caroline’s skirt back over her legs. Before Everett had a chance to see what Millie would do next, Abigail was tugging on his arm, and he realized he needed to act . . . the sooner the better. By the time he got to Caroline, made certain she wasn’t seriously hurt, and on her feet, he knew he had to get Millie as far away as possible from her. Caroline was shaking with rage and muttering threats under her breath. Telling Caroline he’d be right back, he nodded to Millie, who was still trying to apologize to Caroline, even though Caroline was not acknowledging the apologies and was resolutely looking the opposite way from Millie. “I really am so very, very sorry,” Millie said one last time before Abigail suddenly appeared right by her side and the crowd that had gathered around them fell silent. “Good heavens, Millie, it’s not as if you hit Miss Dixon on purpose—something Caroline knows all too well.” Abigail leveled a cool look on Caroline. “Why, your forehead is just a little pink. Granted the pink is perfectly circular, but . . . I’m sure it’ll fade soon, so no harm done.” Abigail”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“It wasn’t that he disliked Miss Longfellow—quite the contrary. With her decidedly quirky personality and habit of uttering words that didn’t always suit what she wanted to say, Miss Longfellow was somewhat charming, if slightly deranged. She”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“The crowd quieted immediately, and then a cheerful tune began to play, right as three little fairies on wires swung out over the stage. “Uncle Everett, Aunt Millie, look at us,” Thaddeus yelled as he waved his hands around before he let out a yelp when the wire pulled him back. Glancing back to Millie and Everett, Reverend Gilmore found them on their feet, clapping wildly and completely ignoring the disdainful stares of the people who’d once called Everett friend. When”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“It had been a simple ceremony on Abigail’s private beach in Newport, with only the people Everett and Millie considered to be good company in attendance. Every member of Abigail’s and Everett’s staff had been there, along with Miss Nora Niesen, Everett’s parents, three puppies, and an entire flock of peacocks. Millie”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“When Everett pulled slowly away and smiled his oh-so-charming smile back at her, she realized that she, Miss Millie Longfellow, had somehow ended up with her very own Mr. Darcy, and knew they were going to be granted their very own happily ever after.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Mr. Kenton told me about the kiss you shared with Everett. The poor man was completely baffled about how to handle the situation, although he did mention something about a bat being involved, and not the type of bat that flies through the air at night.” Millie’s lips curved into a grin as she looked to Mr. Kenton, who smiled back and sent her a wink. Looking around the backyard, she was about to thank everyone for coming such a long way when Everett and the children reappeared, the children grinning from ear to ear and Everett looking rather . . . determined. He strode across the lawn and came to stop directly in front of her, silence descending as he took hold of her hand. Giving that hand a little squeeze, he smiled. “I was not comfortable saying anything until getting the approval of the children, but now that that has been fulfilled . . .” He dropped to his knees, but then, surprisingly enough, frowned. “Good heavens. This isn’t right. I don’t have a—” “I have one right here, darling.” Dorothy hurried up, pressed a small box into Everett’s hand, muttered something about it being a family heirloom, and then sent Millie a rather misty smile before she hurried back to Fletcher’s side. “You may continue.” “Thank you, Mother.” Everett looked up and smiled at Millie. “Where was I?” “You were getting ready to ask Miss Millie to marry you,” Thaddeus called. “Yes, quite right, thank you, Thaddeus.” Swallowing a laugh, Millie bit her lip as Everett grinned, but then he sobered a second later. “Miss Millie Longfellow, I know we’ve had our differences, and I know I’ve been a complete idiot with you, but as the esteemed Mr. Darcy said, or said something like this—through the pen of Jane Austen, of course—you are my reason for living, and I’d be beyond honored if you’d agree to become my wife.” “That’s not what Jane Austen wrote in her book,” Lucetta called. “Not even close.” “And you forgot to tell her you love her,” Elizabeth added. Everett turned and arched a brow at Lucetta. “I understand you have this gift for memorization, but honestly . . .” He directed his attention to Elizabeth next. “And as for your comment, I thought the whole ‘you are my reason for living’ covered that.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not the same.” Sending Elizabeth a wink, Everett looked back up at Millie and smiled. “Well, there you have it. So I suppose all that’s left for me to say is . . . I love you.” With knees that were distinctly wobbly and a heart that felt ready to burst, Millie smiled back at him. “I love you too.” “And you’ll marry me?” “Of course.” Slipping the ring Dorothy had provided over Millie’s finger, Everett rose to his feet. Pulling Millie close to him, he smiled at the crowd watching them so intently, and then . . . he kissed her.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“We got Everett’s note, the one telling us you were heading for Boston,” Reverend Gilmore said, stepping out of the crowd. “Since we needed to make certain you were safe and had found the children, here we are.” “But . . . why didn’t you just wait for us to return to Newport, or wait for us to send a telegram?” Millie asked slowly. “Because we’re your family, Millie, and families don’t wait.” With tears blinding her, Millie was soon enveloped in one lovely hug after another. Her heart was filled to bursting, and she realized for the very first time in her life that she wasn’t truly an orphan. She might have a family made up of the oddest assortment of people—from society matrons, to footmen, to dear, precious children, and Lucetta and Everett, of course—but they were her family, and she loved them dearly. “Mr.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“It’s Grandmother Dorothy,” Elizabeth shrieked as she raced down the stairs, slid on the wooden floor, regained her balance and headed for the front door. “We saw from the window, and she’s brought. . . . everybody.” “She even brought the puppies!” Thaddeus yelled as he rushed past Millie. “I didn’t see my peacocks.” Rose charged after her siblings. “They’re going to be mad at being left behind.” Breaking”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“I don’t know if all of you saw this or not,” Elizabeth said. “But Uncle Everett just kissed Miss Millie right on the lips.” “It was disgusting,” Thaddeus proclaimed. “Disgusting or not,” Elizabeth continued, “if we get out of this alive, I think Miss Millie might just become our new aunt.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“I have not heard the full story yet, but I’m assuming the two of you have straightened matters out?” Millie felt her face heat, but before she could respond, Everett responded for her. “After I left the ball, I found Millie in the process of burning her beloved books, so I did the only thing I could think of . . . I kissed her. Mr. Kenton then threatened me with a bat, but we can’t discuss anything further with you until after we find the children.” He smiled. “We want them to be included in any and all of our future decisions.” As”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Explain yourself, Mr. Mulberry.” Suddenly feeling as if he were a mere boy instead of a full-grown man, Everett decided on the spot that charm might just be the way to handle this rather troubling situation. “I was . . . well, you see, I know it was a little improper, kissing Millie and all . . . but she’s completely irresistible to me, and . . . I’m rather afraid I lost my head for a moment.” “Try again.” “Ah . . . hmm . . .” was all he could come up with to say. “I thought so.” Mr. Kenton stopped slapping the bat against his hand and moved forward, a rather intimidating sight, even given that the man was positively ancient. Coming to a stop right in front of Everett, Mr. Kenton sent Millie, who was a lovely shade of pink, a fond look, before his eyes hardened as he directed his attention back to Everett. “I’m going to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Mulberry. Miss Millie is an orphan, and as such, she has no father to look after her interests. Having said that, I’m telling you right now that you will view me as her fatherly figure at this particular moment in time. You will also explain to me exactly what your intentions are for this fine, fine young lady who deserves better than to be hurt by a scoundrel like you.” Right there, as he was being threatened by an elderly gentleman, one who still retained possession of a rather sturdy-looking bat, Everett knew, without a glimmer of a doubt, that he was truly and irrevocably in love with Miss Millie Longfellow. Whether it was her warmth or natural zest for life, she had a way about her that drew people in, and . . . he could no longer deny his feelings for the woman. Unable”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and rapped on the window. Because she jumped a good foot into the air after the rap, he knew perfectly well she’d heard it, but Millie did not turn. “Open the window.” Bending over, she straightened with another book in her hand, which she immediately tossed into the flames. “What are you doing?” he yelled. Turning, she narrowed her eyes, marched over to the window, unlocked it, and then pushed it up. “Go away.” “I need to talk to you.” “We have nothing left to say.” “We have plenty left to say. At least I do.” “You should be saying things to Caroline, not to me.” “Caroline and I have nothing else to say to each other.” “You’re both from the same world. You should have plenty to say. Whereas you and I, well . . . we’re just too different.” Millie began pushing down the window. “I didn’t propose to Caroline, and from what I’ve been able to learn, she lied to you about everything.” Millie stopped pushing. “Why would she do that? I’m just the nanny.” “You were a threat, and one she wanted to get rid of, so she lied. Told you all sorts of horrible things.” “She also allowed me to see the truth. You’ll be ostracized from all of your good friends if you continue associating with me.” “That doesn’t bother me in the least.” Millie let out a snort. “It does, or at least it will when you’re friendless.” “I’m not friendless. I have you, Lucetta, Oliver and Harriet when they get home, and I could go on and on.” “You’ve run out of names, haven’t you?” “May I come in?” Frowning, Millie leaned closer to him. “Why didn’t you just use the door in the first place?” “Mr. Kenton slammed it in my face.” Millie grinned. “How delightful! But . . . oh, very well.” She pushed the window open again. “Couldn’t you simply go and open the door for me?” “And incur the wrath of Mr. Kenton? Not likely.” Grumbling”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“He was raising his hand to knock when the door suddenly opened, revealing Mr. Kenton, Abigail’s elderly butler. Unfortunately, given that Mr. Kenton seemed to be holding some type of bat in his hands, a bat he was now raising at Everett rather threateningly, Everett got the immediate impression the man might not exactly be happy to see him. “Good evening, Mr. Kenton,” Everett finally said when the butler remained mute, something Everett was fairly sure went against every proper bone in the man’s body. “I was, ah, well, I was wondering if I might speak with Miss Longfellow.” “She doesn’t want to speak with you.” Before Everett could get another word past his lips, Mr. Kenton stepped back and shut the door in Everett’s face. Squaring his shoulders, Everett moved forward and knocked rather determinedly on that door. The sound of the lock clicking into place was the only response. He knocked again. A minute passed, the door remained stubbornly shut against him, so . . . he knocked once more. This, to his annoyance, became a trend. He’d knock, a minute would pass, and he’d knock again. Finally, when his knuckles began burning, he turned and stalked down the steps. Just as Millie had done at the Reading Room, he began to peek in all the windows, hoping to find one that might be unlocked. Unfortunately, Mr. Kenton had apparently already thought of the whole unlocked-window business, because Everett heard windows ahead of him being slammed shut. Pushing through the shrubbery he’d been forced to climb behind, he jumped when a flock of peacocks suddenly flew out at him, screeching in a manner he was far too familiar with, right as the sound of barking puppies could be heard from inside the house. Knowing full well those puppies would be with Millie, who couldn’t refuse cuteness if she tried, Everett followed the sound as the peacocks began trailing after him. Stopping at the back of the house, he pushed his way through yet another shrub, peered through the window, and smiled. Millie was standing by a roaring fire with a book in her hand, something he would never tire of seeing.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Reaching his destination in a relatively short period of time, Everett was forced to stop in his tracks when Davis suddenly stepped in front him. His footman was not looking his normal affable self but was glaring at Everett, and . . . the man’s fists were clenched. “Is something the matter?” he asked slowly. “I would say so, sir, but since you are my employer, it wouldn’t be proper of me to tell you what that something is, or tell you where I think you should go at the moment.” “I was intending to go to Mrs. Hart’s house.” “You’re not done misleading Miss Millie?” Everett stepped closer to Davis, stopping when the man actually raised one of his clenched fists. “Were you, by chance, present when Miss Dixon spoke to Millie?” “I was, and good thing too, sir, since I was able to fetch Miss Millie a buggy straightaway so she could get away from . . . you.” “Miss Dixon lied, Davis. She admitted to me she told Millie we were still going through with our engagement plans this evening, but I had no intention of asking Caroline to marry me tonight. And as odd as this may sound, Caroline is now happily engaged to Mr. Codman.” “I beg your pardon?” “I wish I could explain more sufficiently, but now is not the time. I need to find Millie.” “Miss Dixon told Miss Millie you only see her as an amusement.” Temper began to boil directly underneath Everett’s skin. “I swear to you, I’ve never looked at Millie as a source of amusement. Granted, I do find her amusing almost all the time, but that’s completely different.” “What are your intentions toward her, sir, if I may be so bold to ask?” “I think it would probably be better for me to discuss those intentions with Millie first, although I can assure you, they are completely honorable.” Davis regarded him for a long moment before he nodded. “Well, that’s all right, then, but I do think you need to find Miss Millie straightaway. She was close to tears when I summoned a buggy for her, and I don’t believe Miss Millie is a lady who is normally prone to tears.” “You’re”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Goodness, but that was . . . interesting. But . . . what were you doing upstairs?” Dorothy asked. “I was going to get the children, but Lucetta’s apparently taken them over to Abigail’s, so I’m off to fetch them now—along with Millie, of course.” Dorothy reached up and patted his cheek, causing him to wince since his face was still a little tender from all the brawls he’d been in of late. “There’s hope for you yet, my darling.” Leaning”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“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

“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

“I’m sorry, Millie. I was hoping things would turn out differently.” Millie straightened her spine. “As was I, if I’m being completely honest. But, if nothing else, I’ve finally seen exactly how ill-suited Everett and I are for each other. I may still find him incredibly appealing—especially since I’ve discovered he’s not nearly as insufferable as I used to think—but I need to face reality. He’s not my Mr. Darcy, no matter how much I might have tried to convince myself he was, and I need to accept that and move forward with my life—a life that does not include Mr. Everett Mulberry.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“Everett pulled her even closer and slowed their steps until they were barely moving. “This is nice.” Edging a little away from him, she lifted her head and found her breath catching in her throat when his gaze suddenly locked on her lips. Tingles”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“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

“Do you want to dance with me, Miss Millie?” Shaking out of her thoughts, Millie grinned down at Thaddeus, who was holding his little arm out to her. Unable to resist his sweet offer, she bent down and took the arm, laughing in delight as they shuffled around the terrace, completely at odds with the beats of the music pouring out of the windows, but having a grand time nevertheless. “Someone”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company

“What happened?” Tears blinded Millie for a second before she dashed them away. “I’ve been so silly.” “I don’t understand.” “I tried to pretend otherwise, but deep down I thought there was a chance . . .” “For you and Everett?” Millie waved a hand rather helplessly in the air. “I told you—I’ve been silly. It’s just that he’s been so . . .” “Interested in you?” Millie blinked. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but he has been nice, but . . . I suppose that’s just his nature.” “Everett is nice, but he’s not that nice, and he is interested in you. He’s just been fighting that interest.” “That makes me feel so much better.” Lucetta smiled down at Millie. “He’s your Mr. Darcy.” “That’s just a fairy tale, Lucetta. Real gentlemen don’t put their social position in jeopardy because they’ve fallen for someone not of their station.” “Oliver fell for Harriet.” “Since she turned out to have a fairly illustrious ancestry, that’s probably not the best example to use.”
― Jen Turano, In Good Company