Free The Brahmin Ball (A Sweet Historical Romance Novella) (Brahmin Brides Book 1) by Julianna Blake Page A

from their perfect arrangement.
    “It’s been my pleasure. Until tomorrow, Miss Browning.” He dipped his head to bid adieu, then took his had from the servant and donned it as he waited for the door to be opened for him. Stepping out into the brisk wind, he flipped his coat collar up against the chill.
    He couldn’t wait to get home and relax. Between the long hours at his new firm and the long visits every afternoon to the Browning home, he was exhausted. Too often, his nights were filled with tossing and turning, which didn’t help the matter.
    Snippets of his evening at the ball with Grace haunted him. The curve of her neck, the blush on her cheeks, her lovely tinkle of laughter every time he made a joke—every image was an ice pick to his heart.
    Shaking his head, he pushed the thoughts away and descended the icy steps carefully. You need to remain focused on the future, Garrett. Obviously a future with Grace is impossible, so just keep your eyes on what is important: the bright future you have at the firm.
    In fact, his uncle’s idea of a political future for him tempted him more and more every day. Perhaps it’s time I was more ambitious, he thought as he climbed into the park sleigh. Why settle for the life my father had? If his death taught me nothing, it’s that life is short. Why not grab my shot at having prestige of my own?
    It was a comforting thought…of being a self-made, powerful man who didn’t need to worry what the heiresses of the world thought of him.
     
    ***
     
    “Are you sure we should be doing this?” Clara cast a glance over her shoulder as they made their way down the block for a third time. “We’re going to look like desperate women, hoping to bump into a wealthy man.”
    “No, we are formerly wealthy women hoping to confront a desperately ambitious man,” Madeline corrected, holding her head a little higher. “I feel quite in the right about it.”
    “Mother would disapprove.”
    “Mother disapproves of everything. I have no intention of letting Mr. Gladstone get away with his poor treatment of Grace. It may not be good manners for us to inform him of his own ill manners, but someone needs to do it.”
    “There he is!” Clara announced, gripping Madeline’s sleeve.
    A few doors down, Garrett Gladstone descended the steps of the Browning home, toward the Dwight’s easily recognized park sleigh.
    Madeline walked a little faster, watching her step on the uneven bricks of the icy sidewalk, arriving just as the man was climbing into the driver’s seat. “Mr. Gladstone, may I have a word?”
    “Of course. Forgive me, you look familiar, but I can’t seem to remember—?”
    “I’m Madeline Barstow, and this is Clara Barstow.” She narrowed her gaze. “ Grace Barstow’s sisters.”
    His eyes widened. “Of course!” He climbed down from the sleigh, smoothing his coat. “I remember seeing you with her at that ball last month. I hope the holidays found you well.”
    “I doubt we enjoyed our holidays as much as you did.” Madeline cast a pointed glance up toward the door of the Browning residence.
    He followed her glance, then returned his gaze to Madeline. “I would very much like to speak with you. Can I offer you ladies a ride home?”
    Madeline exchanged a glance with Clara, then shook her head. “I don’t think that would be wise, under the circumstances. But we’ll accept a short ride, down the street a ways, and back.”
    “Very well.” Mr. Gladstone helped Madeline into the front of the four-seat sleigh, then assisted Clara as she climbed into the back seat. Walking around the sleigh, he got settled, and they were soon off.
    The wind on her face was cold as they whooshed down the snow-packed street, falling into line between other sleighs. Beacon Street was as busy as always on afternoons following a snowfall—couples enjoyed spending time together, and young men were always eager to show off their new sleighs. Madeline blushed, realizing that it could