Counterfeit Courtship. Christina Miller

      She picked up her pace, Sugar trotting ahead of her. He’d been home ten minutes. What calamity could have happened in that time? And why ask for help from her, of all people?

      She caught sight of him in the stable and hastened toward him. “Graham, welcome home.”

      He turned toward her from the horse he was brushing. If she thought earlier that he’d changed, she now saw how much. Once the best-looking boy in Natchez, today he could turn every woman’s head in Mississippi. Of a stronger build than she remembered, and still in his uniform, he looked at once both powerful and intimidating—and yet she felt strangely safe with him. His dark hair brushed his collar, needing a trim, and he wore several days’ growth of beard, but the lack of scissors and razor couldn’t detract from his stunning looks.

      His eyes had changed the most. She’d dreaded this day in the past weeks, not wanting to see cold, war-hardened eyes. But instead, she found gray-green eyes that had surely seen the worst of horrors—horrors he had commanded—and yet had become even softer than before.

      They no longer held his heart in them—at least not for her. At the thought, she drew a long, slow breath of thanksgiving that held a pinch of bitter disappointment as well.

      “Ellie.” He dropped his currycomb onto a low table. Then he bowed from the waist, a little too formally, considering their long friendship. “Perhaps you’d rather I call you Miss Ellie, or Miss Anderson.”

      “That would be silly.” Equally silly was her sudden pleasure in hearing his deep, velvety voice. “Why did you hang the distress flag?”

      He drew a ragged breath and glanced toward the house, his eyes intense, as if he was heading into battle. “I’m in trouble.”

      “You?” Ellie couldn’t help laughing. “The hero of Natchez needs my help?”

      “It’s female trouble.”

      Female? “Well, you do work quickly. Don’t expect me to get you out of a hasty engagement or any such nonsense.”

      “It’s nothing like that.” The intensity in his eyes lessened a bit, so maybe her teasing had lightened his mood. “A whole flock of women was here when I got home. They came inside with me, but Noreen’s gone.”

      “Is that all? All you have to do is put on some water for tea. Noreen keeps a few cookies in the pantry, so put them on one of her Spode dishes—”

      “I don’t want to serve refreshments. I want them out of the house so I can find Noreen.”

      The man must have been too war-weary to think straight. “She’ll be back. You can surely tolerate an hour with a few pretty women.”

      “You don’t understand. Something’s wrong. I know she left in a hurry, because her half-eaten breakfast is still sitting in the library. And Father’s revolver is missing.”

      Now, that was different. “In that case, tell them you need to go. If Miss Noreen left dirty dishes, something has happened.”

      “They’re not going to listen.”

      She thought for a moment, watching Sugar inch closer to the horse.

      “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

Chapter Two

      I have a plan. How many times in his life had Graham regretted having heard those words? He had a feeling he was going to regret it again. “All I want you to do is go in there and ask those women to leave while I look for Noreen.”

      “If that’s all it takes, you do it,” Ellie said in her easy drawl.

      The sick feeling in Graham’s stomach intensified to a burn. How was he supposed to tell her that, since he left her house that night eight years ago, he had spent almost no time with women and had no idea how to handle them? What was he supposed to say—that he’d led men into battle but couldn’t lead a gaggle of women out of his home? After all his time at war, he simply didn’t trust himself with the social graces. But the grin on Ellie’s face told him she wasn’t interested in hearing about it anyway.

      Well, she was going to hear about it, whether she liked it or not. “Look, I’ve been three days without a bath and in the saddle the past day and a half, and I smell worse than a wet dog. I’ve been stripped of everything I own, plus my citizenship, and now to be disgraced in front of all those ladies— I still have my pride. I can’t do it.”

      “My plan is brilliant. Trust me.”

      He blew out his breath, sounding a little like Dixie when she saw something she didn’t like. “Don’t even tell me about it. You’re just like the Confederacy—full of great ideas that never quite work out.”

      “I’m honored to be compared to the glorious Confederate States of America.”

      To his dismay, she smiled her sweet smile. He’d wanted to make her mad, prod her into helping him. Why couldn’t she just do as he asked?

      Then he realized she was baiting him, as she had for years when they were young.

      “Fine. Carry out your plan. But I don’t want any part of it.” He stuck his foot in the stirrup, swung himself onto Dixie’s back and guided her out of the stable.

      Just as he was about to tap the horse’s flank and take off, Ellie slipped out of the stable and closed the door, leaving the dog inside. She climbed the marble carriage steps and then took him by the arm and started to hoist herself right up there in front of him.

      “What are you doing?” Against his will, Graham helped her mount. He’d left this woman here eight years ago, and she’d gone crazy while he was away. Now he not only had to get five girls out of his house, but he had to get another one off his horse.

      “Ride up to the front of the house and pass as close to the south parlor windows as you can. You put the girls in the parlor, right?”

      “Where else would I put them? The cellar?”

      She leaned back against him. “Get the horse moving, and act as if you like it.”

      “Ellie, we’re not children anymore. This isn’t one of your schemes. Noreen could be in trouble.”

      “The sooner you stop talking and ride up there, the sooner you’ll be gone to look for her.”

      How did she always make everything sound so logical? But in his situation, what else could he do? He nudged Dixie with his heel and she took off.

      “Slower. We’re supposed to be enjoying this.”

      He gritted his teeth so hard, they might break, and he slowed the horse. When they were ten yards from the window, Ellie began to giggle.

      She really had gone crazy.

      Turning back to look at him, she stopped the laugh cold and spoke through her teeth as she smiled. “You’re scowling like an old schoolmarm. Smile and act as if you like me.”

      After all those years of war and responsibility, he wasn’t sure he remembered how. He tried a rather tentative grin but it felt like a grimace.

      “Better but not good. Think of something pleasant.”

      “Be glad you get this much. I’m out of practice.”

      As they passed the windows, Ellie primped a little and giggled again. “They’re looking right at us. Smile.”

      This was ridiculous. He urged Dixie across the side yard and to the front hitching post, although he didn’t exactly want to advertise the fact he was home. He didn’t need any more women showing up. “Now what?”

      “Help me down.” She gave Dixie a good pat on the head and then held on to Graham as she slipped to the ground, her white hoopskirts twirling.

      He dismounted and secured