02 - Borrowed Dreams

by May McGoldrick

  She leaned into him and kissed his lips, and Lyon realized that he was like those stones in some ways. She was giving him life by holding him near her heart.

  ****

  The round face of the baby sleeping so peacefully against Rebecca’s chest fascinated Millicent. This past year had gone by so quickly.

  “He is truly an angel,” she said quietly.

  “In his sleep,” Rebecca quipped, caressing the soft mat of dark hair on her son’s head. “You should have heard him half an hour ago. That was why Mrs. Trent came to fetch me.”

  They were still an hour from dinner, and Millicent had left Lyon and the dowager and Sir Richard chatting comfortably with Lord Stanmore while she came up to the nursery to visit with Rebecca. She didn’t know how to broach the subject, but she really needed her friend’s advice. She had been putting off answering Lyon’s question for three days. She absently touched the elegant necklace at her throat. Although he was not pressuring her, she knew Lyon wanted t know if she was going to Baronsford with him. And despite everything between them, she was still terrified.

  “I cannot believe how much he has grown since I saw him last.” She looked up from the child’s face to the proud mother’s. “But there is something about you that has changed, too. I don’t know. But you look to have this look about you. Are you…?”

  Biting her lip, Millicent let the question hang in between them. The immediate reddening of Rebecca’s face was impossible to miss.

  “You are with child again!” Millicent blurted out excitedly. “Is it true?”

  The young mother smiled, rising to her feet. “I must be so transparent.”

  “When? When are you having this baby?” Millicent whispered her question for the fear of waking up the sleeping child.

  “Sometime toward the end of autumn. We just found out.” She laid the baby in his crib and nodded to the nursemaid, who sat sewing by the fire. “Stanmore is thrilled, of course. We brought James home from Eton on a short holiday to celebrate. He is quite excited, but wants some kind of guarantee for another brother.”

  Tiptoeing out, the two of them left the nursery. In the outer room though, rather than going straight out, Rebecca turned around and took Millicent’s hands in hers. “I want to hear about you and your marriage. You look wonderful. You look happy.”

  “I am, surprisingly. Very happy.”

  Rebecca gave her a fierce hug. “I am so glad to hear it. My Lord, to think that I was so wrong about Aytoun!” She pulled back and smiled. “When we were in Scotland, I received a letter from Reverend and Mrs. Trimble, praising your husband to the skies. Just spending the few short minutes with him downstairs, I can see he is nothing like the man rumor had portrayed.”

  “If there was any truth to those rumors, or if they were simply vicious gossip, I cannot say, Rebecca. I cannot defend the man my husband may have been before.”

  “Do not be discouraged, though, if you hear more talk,” Rebecca warned. “The idleness of the ton provides a breeding ground for malicious slander.”

  “I will not allow them to hurt him. I will fight anyone with my bare hands if I hear them besmirch his name now.” She let out an unsteady breath. “He has come so far in his recovery, but he still has a rocky road ahead of him. But I shall tell you one thing: Lyon Pennington has already proved to be a wonderful husband and a great friend to me. I just cannot describe in words how much I have come to value him.”

  Rebecca looped an arm through Millicent’s. “Just watching him downstairs, watching the way his gaze follows you around the room, the way he stops the very word on his tongue to listen when you are speaking across the way, I know that he values you, too. And I know how difficult it is sometimes to put these things into the right words. But from my own experience, I can say that this is what love is all about.”

  “Love?” Millicent repeated under her breath.

  “I would say that it is clear you love him, Millicent. And I think he shares your affection.”

  Millicent couldn’t stop the sudden tears from rshing into her eyes. She turned away from her friend.

  “What is wrong?” Alarmed, Rebecca came around to face her.

  “I am so confused and terrified and…and…I just don’t know what to do.” She stabbed at the tears. “I am so desperate to do the right thing for him and for myself, but my heart just doesn’t let me carry it through.”

  “Sit with me.” Rebecca tugged her hand, drawing her down on a settee beside her. “I want you to tell me what is wrong.”

  She let out couple of shaky breaths, trying desperately to calm her nerves. “He…Lyon has to go back to Baronsford. He has asked me to go along with him.”

  “What is terrifying about that?”

  Millicent shook her head. “The problem is that I entered into this marriage knowing that it might not last forever. I made them agree that if Lyon were to improve then I would be released from the marriage. I even had Sir Oliver Birch put those conditions in the marriage contract so there would be no objection afterward.”

  “You were trying to protect yourself, in case he turned out to be not the man that you expected. But that was then, and this is now.”

  “You don’t understand. I was also trying to protect him, too. You see, he is an earl, and I am just…” She shook her head. “He needs beauty, style, charm to grace his arm in public, not someone—”

  “Stop!” Rebecca snapped. “Stop and listen to what you are saying, to what you are doing to yourself. You are not lacking in beauty or style or charm.”

  “If I could only make myself believe that.”

  “Then you must!” Rebecca spoke passionately. “Millicent, you cannot allow Wentworth to continue to ruin your life. It is not you talking this nonsense, but him. During your marriage to that degenerate pig, he tried to strip you of your confidence, of your sense of self-worth. He tried to crush you in person and in spirit. And now, after his death, you are allowing him continue to hurt you…even from the grave.”

  The truth behind her words made Millicent shiver. She forced herself to push away the murky cloud that was enveloping her. She wanted to be able to look into the future without fear. But it was so difficult.

  “Your husband needs you. You say he has asked you to go. He wants you to go.” Rebecca took both of Millicent’s hands and squeezed them as she looked into her face. “If for no other reason, go with him and think of it as a test. Think of it as a way of proving to yourself that you have done away with Wentworth’s ghost for eternity.”

  *****

  The valets backed out of the carriage after seating Lyon comfortably for the ride home. Millicent climbed in immediately, and the door closed behind her.

  “I like them very much.” Lyon admitted. “Both of them. Rebecca is charming and completely unpretentious…like you. And Stanmore’s progressive views and the way he presents them makes me happy that he sits in the House of Lords. If we only had more people there like him.”

  “I believe the feeling was mutual.” She sat on the seat beside him. “They really enjoyed your company, too.”

  “Just the two of us?” Lyon asked when the carriage started off.

  “I sent everyone else in the other one. I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted you all to myself for the ride back.”

  Lyon wrapped his left arm around Millicent’s shoulder and slid her across the seat closer to him. “This is far too promising for such a short ride. Tell the groom to go back to Melbury Hall by way of London.”

  Millicent’s laughter rippled over him. Something had happened tonight. Somehow, during the time that Millicent and Rebecca had spent upstairs, his wife had shed the anxiety that had weighed her down of late. He took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For smiling, and for wanting to be with me, and for these obvious plans of seduction.”

  Her silvery eyes danced with merriment in the dim light of the carriage. She leaned toward him
and brushed her lips against his. “And I thought I was being so devious.”

  He caught her chin and captured her mouth for a much deeper kiss. “This shall be a challenge.”

  She laughed softly and pressed her body closer as the carriage rolled down the dark country lane. “I do not think there is much that I can do with what little time it takes to go to Melbury Hall. But the dowager and Sir Richard have already told me how ready they are to retire. So when we get back, there is always the prospect of our bed.”

  Her hand moved beneath his overcoat, and Lyon felt every muscle in his body flex and come to life.

  “I don’t know if I can wait that long. There is something about the motion of a moving carriage,” he said seductively.

  The carriage turned onto the road leading to Melbury Hall.

  “You make it sound quite tempting, but our bed will have to do for tonight, I think.” She stretched up and kissed his neck. “But of course, we shall have plenty of time to try out your carriage idea on our ride to Baronsford.”

  He turned to her. “You are coming?”

  “If you still want me to come.”

  “Is this answer enough?” he whispered huskily, crushing his mouth down on hers.

  *****

  “I am so sorry to do this to you, m’lady, just before you go away. But with my grandmum sick and Baronsford being so far away in Scotland and all, there was no way I could get back if she—”

  “You don’t have to explain any more,” Millicent said gently. “II understand perfectly, Violet. Don’t give it another thought.”

  “But I feel so bad about it, m’lady.” She turned her face and began straightening brushes on the dresser and then wiping specks of invisible dust.

  “You shouldn’t,” Millicent assured her. “In fact, I have been meaning to talk to you. I’ve been worrying about you. You’ve not been looking yourself lately. Why don’t you take a holiday while we’re in Scotland and go give your mother a hand with your grandmother in St. Albans?”

  “I am so much obliged to you, m’lady. I know she could use a little help. But don’t you be worrying about me now. I’ve laid out all your clothes, and Bess will do well for you. She is young and eager to please and is looking for a chance to show that she’s able.”

  As Violet continued to talk about maidservants and dresses, Millicent's gaze kept focusing on the young woman’s pale face. She couldn’t count the number of times Violet had been sick in the past fortnight. She also had a hard time forgetting the suspicious looking bruise that she’d seen on the young girl’s mouth lately. Something was not right. But as with everything else, there was not much time to probe and prod. She only hoped that Violet would be wise enough to take Millicent’s advice and actually go to her family in St. Albans.

  “Violet,” Millicent interrupted softly. “You do understand that if you ever are in any kind of trouble, you can come to me.”

  The young woman’s eyes avoided meeting Millicent’s. Her gaze was fixed on a ribbon she was nervously twisting around one finger.

  “Things happen in life,” she continued, hoping to make the young woman feel more at ease. “We all make mistakes, Vi. We sometimes find ourselves in situations that we have no control over. What gets us though these things is our connection with other people. Loneliness is a curse; I know that very well. Please remember that I am here to help if you need me.”

  “I know, m’lady,” Violet whispered, curtsying quickly and escaping the room.

  *****

  Despite everyone’s assurance that life at Melbury Hall would continue on smoothly, Lyon still saw the worry etched on Millicent’s face when she climbed inside the carriage and sat across from him.

  “Everything will be just fine. Just fine,” she muttered under her breath as she settled herself. She turned to him. “It was very kind of the dowager and Sir Richard to stay for another fortnight or so.”

  “I hope you still feel that way when we get back. I did notice a certain look in the dowager’s face that told me she has become quite content here. We might not be able to move her anywhere in the near future.”

  Millicent smiled. “She is welcome to stay forever, if it pleases her. I am indebted to her in more ways than she could ever imagine.” She reached out and took Lyon’s right hand affectionately in hers before turning to look out the window again.

  A long line of people had gathered in the courtyard to see them off and wish them a safe journey. Millicent waved through the small window of the carriage.

  “I don’t see Moses,” she whispered worriedly over her shoulder at Lyon. “Do you see him?”

  Lyon leaned forward and pointed. “There he is, behind Jonah and Gibbs.”

  Millicent looked again and let out a sigh of relief. “Gibbs and Jonah are developing a solid respect for each other. Since Moses is devoted to Jonah, that makes him like Gibbs. I don’t know if our new steward knows that he has taken a protector for life.”

  “That is the kind of loyalty that Highland cur understands best.”

  With a shout from one of the grooms and a final wave from the waiting throng, the riders and carriages started out. Millicent continued to stare out the window until the bend in the road blocked her view of her people.

  Lyon’s attention, though, kept moving from his wife’s anxious face to where her hand was clutching his right hand desperately on one knee.

  “I used to leave Melbury Hall for months at the time with no guilt whatsoever when Wentworth was alive, but now, going away for a fortnight, I feel like a deserter.”

  He tentatively entwined his fingers with hers. She didn’t notice the movement.

  “Last night,” he said, “I was listening to Stanmore and Rebecca talk about how guilty they feel whenever they leave James at Eton. Even though he has made a number of friends and has established himself very well as a student there, their worry does not go away entirely. It has to do with family, I suppose.”

  “You said that to me before.” She smiled. “That Melbury Hall is like a family to me. You don’t mind that, do you?”

  “Hardly. I consider myself damned lucky to be a part of it.” He squeezed her hand.

  Suddenly Millicent’s gaze dropped to their entwined hands. “Do that again.”

  “’Tis like making love, my bonny lass. A man needs some time to recover first.”

  Without letting go of his hand, she moved across and nestled against him. “First of all, that is a lie if I ever heard one. You never need time to recover during our lovemaking, and you certainly should not need any now. Squeeze my hand again, Lyon. Please.”

  Being able to use his hand was not new for him. But now, seeing her excitement, he was relieved to be able to share this progress with her. Lyon gently squeezed her fingers.

  Her joyous laughter filled the carriage. Millicent looked up at him in amazement. “Show me more.”

  “This is the extent of it, for now.”

  “No, it is not,” she challenged him. “I have become too familiar with you and your scheming. I know there must be more. I can hear the rumbling in your brain from here.”

  He leaned toward her and growled. “What you hear, m’lady, is the rumblings of a starved man, and the sound is not coming from my head.”

  “We ate not an hour before we departed.”

  “Sexually starved.” He kissed her delicious lips. “Remember all those promises you have been giving me about rocking carriages and straining bodies?”

  “But it is daylight,” she replied, trying to look shocked.

  “That is what curtains are for.” He slowly slid his hand onto her knee. “Weren’t you asking me to show you more?”

  “You are the devil, Lord Aytoun.” She leaned forward hurriedly and pulled the curtains closed. “A tempting, scandalous devil who knows all my weaknesses.”

  CHAPTER 25

  That afternoon Gibbs found the Dowager Countess Aytoun in the drawing room with a book on her lap, nodding comfortably in the chair by the window. The
blue eyes focused as soon as he entered, led in by one of her serving maids.

  “Do not tell me, Gibbs, that you are here to moan that you already miss your master?”

  “Nay, m’lady.”

  “That’s good. Well, I hope you will promise not to make such a complaint while he is gone.”

  “That depends on how well ye treat me, m’lady,” the Highlander said with a half smile.

  “From what I’ve been observing around Melbury Hall, there is a certain young woman whose manner influences your moods.” The shrewd eyes narrowed. “So tell me, is Mrs. Page as sweet on you as you are on her?”

  “Well, mum, I believe she tolerates me well enough.”

  The dowager sat back and smiled. “I knew there was a reason why I liked the housekeeper. She is obviously exercising good judgment.”

  “Och, and here I was hoping ye might put a good word in for me with her.”

  “Good word…that is something we shall certainly need to negotiate.” She closed the book that lay on her lap and put it aside. “But I doubt you are here so soon after your master’s departure for that.”

  “Nay, m’lady.” He cleared his throat, his back stiffening again. “A messenger has just come down from London, looking for Lady Aytoun.”

  “Does he bring news from her family?”

  “Nay, mum.”

  “Well, who is he? Out with it, Gibbs.”

  “He’s sent by a Mr. Platt, who happens to serve Mr. Jasper Hyde in legal matters.”

  “That ghastly man again!” Impatiently, the dowager took the spectacles off her face, her mood obviously souring. “The last thing Millicent needs right now is to worry about someone like him. You didn’t tell him that Lady Aytoun has gone to Scotland, did you?”

  “Nay, m’lady.”