A Dash of Scandal

by Amelia Grey

  Millicent didn’t know why the dog had taken an instant dislike to her. She was usually very good with animals. She could only attribute it to the fact that Hamlet didn’t seem to like anyone but his mistress and Emery. Aunt Beatrice had suggested it was because he was getting old and grumpy, which was more than likely the case.

  As Millicent watched Emery and Hamlet, her thoughts faded back to what Earl Dunraven had said last night just before he returned her to Viscountess Heathecoute. A sudden expectancy filled her.

  Millicent was shocked, and her aunt would be mortified if she knew the earl had indicated he was going to pursue her. She must stop his interest in her, but for some reason she was reluctant to do that. Even though he was a High Society rake, she found her attraction to him was too powerful to ignore. She had tried. Her only hope was that he would soon tire of her and go on to pursue some other young lady.

  A smile lifted the corners of her lips just thinking about how gently yet commandingly he’d touched her while they danced. She loved the feel of the strength in him when he caressed her hand. Oh, and he was so handsome and debonair. He was intriguing and as fascinating a gentleman as she had ever met.

  But, and it was a huge but, she had to remember that was exactly how he had earned his reputation for being one of the Terrible Threesome. He knew how to enchant young ladies and make them desire to see him again. She had to remember he liked the chase and to pay suit to young ladies only to go no further than a few dances and paying a call or two. Her smile faded.

  She was not one he could trifle with for two very good reasons. Aunt Beatrice had brought her to London to safeguard her position at The Daily Reader, and it was a man comparable to Lord Dunraven who had made her mother an outcast in all of London. If the dashing earl approached Millicent again, she would have no choice but to rebuff him—no matter that she wasn’t inclined to do so. She would not end up like her mother.

  Millicent looked out at the lush garden again. It was too beautiful a day to stay inside. Maybe a leisurely stroll among the flowers and shrubs would free her mind of Lord Dunraven. She should join Emery and Hamlet outside in the fresh air and spend a little time thinking up new quotes from Shakespeare to use in the column.

  She could always resort to looking through her aunt’s books on Shakespeare’s writings, and reading his works was never a chore, but she rather liked the idea that she could remember so many of her favorite lines without lifting a book or turning a page.

  She finished off her tea, then headed toward the rear door. Millicent stepped out of her aunt’s house and into the lovely formal garden. She’d been told that her aunt’s flower garden was one of the largest and most beautiful in Mayfair, and looking at the splendor before her she could believe it. The enclosure was alive with color.

  Tall, thick yews formed a hedge that was at least eight feet high and completely surrounded the garden on three sides. Separate beds of flowers had been arranged so that there would be some flower or shrub blooming from early spring until late in the autumn. At the end of the garden stood a larger-than-life-size statue of Diana, the Huntress. The goddess held a cluster of arrows in one hand and her trusted dog stood by her side. It was easy to figure out why her aunt picked that piece of statuary, given her love for her own pet.

  Emery and Hamlet met her at the bottom step on their way back inside.

  “Good afternoon, miss.” Emery greeted her with a pleasant smile.

  “And the same to you, Emery,” Millicent said, peering down into the maid’s basket. “You picked beautiful flowers for Aunt Beatrice.”

  The maid’s eyes brightened at the praise. “You think she’ll like them?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Emery smiled and said, “Thank you, miss,” then headed up the steps to the back door.

  Millicent turned to the spaniel who was still looking at her with curious eyes. “What about you, Hamlet? Would you like to stay out here in the garden with me for a while?”

  The little dog barked once. Millicent thought that meant he would stay outside with her, but as soon as Emery opened the door, he scampered up the steps and rushed inside just before the maid shut the door.

  So much for trying to make friends with him, Millicent thought as she made her way along the stone path that led to the back of the garden. It was a beautiful day bright with sunshine, with a clear blue sky and a gentle breeze to rustle the leaves. The foliage was a lush shade of green from the early spring rains and their wet winter.

  Millicent’s modest afternoon dress swished across the tops of her satin slippers as she bent down to smell a pretty pink flower.

  “Millicent.”

  Rising up, Millicent thought she must be going daft. She could have sworn she’d heard Lord Dunraven call her name. She looked around the grounds from corner to corner and saw nothing. She shook her head and smiled to herself. How unlike her to have such fanciful notions about a gentleman. Probably because she couldn’t get the dashing scoundrel off her mind.

  She continued, her lazy stroll.

  “Millicent.”

  This time she stopped with a jerk and looked around again. She wasn’t hearing things. It was Lord Dunraven calling her name.

  “Over here by the statue.”

  She slowly walked toward the statue and, when she moved to an angle at the far right, she saw Lord Dunraven, crouched down low and hidden behind the large statue. He was motioning for her to join him.

  He was unbelievable.

  She looked at the back door where Emery and Hamlet had just entered. There was no sign of them, Phillips, or any of her aunt’s servants. It was inconceivable that he’d made it into the garden without anyone seeing him.

  Millicent knew she should just ignore him and rush back into the house, but she couldn’t. Curiosity got the better of her and she started toward him. She took her time walking over to where he was hidden in the back center of the garden where the statue stood. When she was close enough to talk to Lord Dunraven, she stopped and pretended to look at a cluster of daisies but had her gaze on him.

  “You, sir, are astounding.”

  He winked at her. “Thank you.”

  “How did you get into this garden?”

  “Through the hedge.”

  She looked at the closely cropped, thick hedge that stood just beyond the garden and didn’t see a break or even a ruffle of disturbance in the primly cut yew.

  “Impossible.”

  “Miss Blair, have you never heard the old adage, ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’?”

  “You sir, are an extraordinary magician if you indeed came through that thick hedge.”

  A roguish smile played on his lips and melted any hint of anger toward him. “I’ve had plenty of practice over the years, but I do have to admit that I am a bit rusty.” He grunted and adjusted his position on the ground to a sitting position. “I haven’t slipped into a garden to meet a young lady in years.”

  “I should think not,” she admonished him. Although she was appalled by his brash behavior, she was also excited by it. “You are much too old for such pranks.”

  He grimaced as he touched a slight scratch to his cheek. “I agree. They used to be such fun, and it is quite nice to know I can still do it.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear you have done this sort of thing before.”

  “I would rather you had allowed me to call on you properly.”

  “Sir, I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you to call on me at all.”

  “I’m sure you believe I’m living up to my reputation.”

  “Indeed. You could have been caught slipping in here.” She stopped. “What am I saying?—I could be caught standing here talking to you and be scandalized. Emery and Hamlet were just in the garden.”

  “I saw them and waited for them to leave. I’m always careful. I’ve been hiding on the other side of the hedge for some time now hoping Hamlet wouldn’t detect me and that you would come out into the garden this afternoon.”


  “Really? Why?”

  “I wanted to see you. You wouldn’t give me permission to call on you properly, so I shall call on you improperly. Now, come a bit closer so we won’t have to talk so loud and alert one of the servants.”

  Closer? She shouldn’t be talking to him at all. But… rake that he was, with him there was always that but. She wanted to talk to him.

  She walked closer to the statue and sat down on its base, right beside Lord Dunraven, who sat on the grass. She looked over at him. His hair was ruffled and had bits of shrub in it. The shoulder of his jacket had a small tear, and his white shirt had grass stains from the hedge. There was a small scratch on his cheek below his eye. He indeed looked like a gentleman who had just stolen into a garden to see the love of his life.

  Suddenly she laughed softly.

  “And what is so funny?” he asked as he leaned against the back of the statue.

  “You.”

  “Me? I hoped to impress you, not make you laugh at me. Where did I go wrong?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “I was just thinking that it is no wonder you have the reputation you do. Coming here like this was very risky for both of us.”

  “I learned early in my youth how to steal into gardens, climb houses, and crawl into windows without being caught.”

  “Stunts like that could easily fool most young ladies into thinking you were absolutely, madly in love with them.”

  “Most?” he questioned. “I guess that means you are not included in that number.”

  “Certainly not.”

  “But you aren’t upset I came to see you.”

  Oh no.

  “Of course I am,” she said with little conviction in her voice. “It is very foolish. If you were caught here, my reputation would be ruined forever.”

  “There should be some comfort in knowing that I’ve never actually been caught.”

  “Obviously not. You would have been wed.”

  “Which is the reason I’m always careful.”

  “But you did say you were rusty.”

  “Did I say that? Surely not. But, let’s see.”

  In one fluid motion, he gently took hold of her wrist and pulled her down into the grass, half beside him and half on his lap, and covered her lips with his in a quick, soft kiss—but to her it was a powerful kiss that sent her head spinning with tantalizing sensations.

  Millicent was too stunned to move or to say anything. She looked into his gently smiling eyes and felt no fear, no remorse, no shame. How could that be? It went against everything she had been taught.

  He reached up and caressed her cheek with his fingertips and asked, “Have I lost my technique?”

  “No, sir, you are very adept.”

  She was almost sitting on top of him. He held her but with no forcing pressure. She could easily rise, scream, or even box his ears, but she remained where she was without moving.

  He raised his lips to hers again for another gentle kiss. Her stomach quivered. His lips were warm and moist as he gently taught her how to return the kiss. It would be so easy to give herself up to his touch and simply enjoy this man, but she couldn’t. She must take control of him and herself and not allow this to continue.

  She pushed against his chest and the kiss ended. “You have proven your point, Lord Dunraven. You are a rake of the highest order.”

  “Should I consider that a compliment or insult?”

  “You should consider it the truth. Now, I really must go before someone sees us.”

  “May I call on you tomorrow?”

  She rose from the ground and looked down at him. “I can’t allow that, sir. Please turn your attentions to someone else. Now, leave the way you came while I watch for you.”

  He grinned and blew her a kiss.

  The back door opened and Hamlet rushed out. He stood on the top step and barked a couple of times before he came running down the steps at top speed toward Millicent. Her heart jumped to her throat.

  “Hurry, Lord Dunraven. Hamlet knows you are here,” Millicent whispered to him but he was already disappearing through a small opening he had made in the bottom of the shrub. It closed back together as soon as he was gone.

  Hamlet headed straight for the hedge where Lord Dunraven had disappeared. He sniffed around the ground and barked.

  Millicent looked back to the rear door saw that it was her own maid, Glenda, standing in the doorway. Millicent flinched. She wondered how long Glenda had been standing there. Could she have seen Lord Dunraven from where she stood? Would she say anything to her aunt if she had seen him or would she consider it none of her concern and remain quiet?

  A small young lady with large dark eyes and sallow skin, Glenda was the quietest person Millicent had ever known. She could enter a room without anyone ever knowing she was there.

  “Miss, are you all right?” she called.

  “Yes, Glenda,” Millicent answered and without looking back toward Hamlet, she started walking toward her maid.

  “You have a visitor.”

  “No, no, I don’t have a visitor,” she fibbed, trying not to sound or act nervous, but wasn’t so sure she managed it. “I don’t know what Hamlet is barking at. Maybe a rabbit or a cat.”

  She could strangle Lord Dunraven for putting her in this awkward position.

  Glenda walked down the steps to meet Millicent. She presented Millicent a card on a silver tray. “No, miss, I mean you have had a visitor call on you. A young lady.”

  “Oh, yes. I see. Thank you.” Millicent tried to calm her breathing as she picked up the card and read. “Lady Lynette Knightington.” She looked up at the maid. “Is the lady still here or did she just leave her card?”

  “She’s in the front parlor, miss, but says not to bother you if she’s called at an inopportune time.”

  Millicent wiped her lips with the back of her hand, remembering Lord Dunraven’s kiss, wishing she had more time to ponder why he was pursuing her.

  She would think about him later.

  This pleasant day had certainly turned into an exciting one. Should she greet the young lady who had been so friendly the night before or should she tell Glenda to say she was unavailable?

  Millicent threw down the card on the tray. Angels above, her aunt couldn’t expect her to attend two and three parties each evening and not develop at least one friendship.

  “Tell her I’ll be right there, then ask the housekeeper to speak to the cook about a fresh pot of tea and sandwiches.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Lady Lynette, how kind of you to call,” Millicent said a few moments later as she entered the front parlor. Her off-white day dress swept the floor, and her steps were soundless in her comfortable satin slippers.

  Lady Lynette turned from the fireplace, where she was looking at the painting of a much younger Lady Beatrice that hung above the mantel. She smiled graciously at Millicent. “I’m so happy you were available to see me on short notice. I promise not to stay long.”

  “Nonsense. Stay as long as you like. I’m having some tea brought in for us.”

  “Thank you. And remember to call me Lynette. We are friends now, and there should be no formalities with us.”

  “All right. Please sit down.”

  Millicent motioned for Lady Lynette to take one of the twin burgundy-colored settees that were placed in the center of the cozy room. Matching gilded armchairs flanked each end of the settees, and a satinwood pedestal table with alabaster inlays stood between the settees. Burgundy and green-striped velvet drapery panels had been pulled back from the windows and daylight lit the parlor with brightness.

  Lady Lynette was an imposing young lady, tall and robust. Her sapphire-blue walking dress spread out over the small settee as she sat down on the edge. Her matching bonnet had a wide ribbon sash tied under her chin that covered most of the birthmark that spilled over her cheek. Millicent noticed that Lady Lynette’s face was really quite lovely when the dark red birthmark was covered.

&
nbsp; Millicent took a deep breath, smiled, and sat in the settee opposite the other woman.

  “How is Lady Beatrice feeling?” Lady Lynette asked.

  “A little better each day, but I’m afraid she’s not up to visitors.”

  “That’s quite all right. I understand. Please tell her I asked for her.”

  “I shall be happy to. I’m sure she’ll be disappointed she wasn’t able to see you.”

  “I saw you dancing with Lord Dunraven last night.”

  Millicent suddenly became wary. Was there any way Lady Lynette could have seen Lord Dunraven sneak into the garden? Millicent remained calm and said, “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I talked with my mother about it at breakfast this morning.”

  That was rather presumptuous, but Millicent decided not to take her to task—just yet. She would wait and see where the conversation was going. She answered, “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I explained you had been recently introduced to me and that you were here only for the Season. Since you are new in Town, my mother and I felt I should take it upon myself to come and warn you about Lord Dunraven.”

  “Warn me?” Millicent asked but felt sure she knew what Lady Lynette would say, and she was a little perturbed at how quickly the subject changed from pleasantries to what must have been the real reason for her visit.

  Lady Lynette rolled her eyes upward and smiled. “To be sure he’s the most charming of the Terrible Threesome, and most young ladies think the most handsome, too. But if you came to Town looking to make a match you would do well to forget about Lord Dunraven and concentrate on someone else.”

  “It was only one dance, Lynette. And he was not the only gentleman I danced with.”

  “I know, but he is the only one that you danced with who is unattainable. Over the years so many young ladies have lost their hearts to him only to be disappointed. I think you should take more interest in Sir Charles Wright or Viscount Tolby. Both are handsome and either would suit. Lord Dunraven’s interest in any young lady is not to be taken seriously. I could tell you stories about him that would—but you don’t want to hear things about him, I’m sure.”