“Of course you did.” If he didn’t change the subject, their banter would leave him smitten with the one unmarried girl in the room who he was not supposed to like. “This is your plan, Miss Edgebrook. How do we begin?”
She scanned the room before her gaze lighted on a pack of eligible ladies. “Wilhelmina Tatham is over there. Her father is a baron. His holdings are Dutch, but he is wealthy, and the family name is good. You could start by asking her for the first dance. After that, find a few more who you like the look of. If you need an introduction, I can help or find someone who knows the lady. At the end of the night we shall go over the ladies and see if any of them are in the running.”
Finding the woman in question, he admired her silky brown hair and fair skin. “I have been previously introduced to Miss Tatham. Wish me luck.”
Millicent’s pretty giggle followed him until he was too far away to hear her. The gaggle of young women were speaking of where they bought their gowns and grew silent when he entered their circle. “Good evening, ladies. Miss Tatham, it is nice to see you again. If you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of the first dance?”
She dropped into a curtsy. “I am not engaged, Your Grace.”
The first strains of music began, and Preston offered his arm. “How are you enjoying your season, Miss Tatham?”
Her bowed lips tipped up. “It has just taken a turn for the better.”
Was she serious? “Should I be flattered?”
Chuckling, she added, “Perhaps I am just teasing you, Your Grace.”
“People rarely tease a duke.” Actually, other than his close friends, no one ever did. It was rather refreshing.
Her smile faded. “I have offended you.”
“Not at all. I think your ease is a welcome change.” He maneuvered them into place for the minuet.
She was easy to talk to and funnier than he would have expected. Her sharp wit showed intelligence, but he questioned her constant need to be amusing rather than say anything of import. Still, the dance was pleasant. When the music ended he escorted Wilhelmina to her mother’s side, bowed and went in search of another partner.
The entire evening continued with him dancing and chatting up ladies who rarely had anything interesting to say. It was after two in the morning when he could take no more. He found Millicent near the fireplace speaking with Sir Donald Valegrove, a lanky young man with little money and less sense. “Miss Edgebrook.”
“Your Grace?”
The music changed to a waltz.
“Might I have this dance?”
Her eyes grew wide, and she stuttered, “I…I…yes, of course.”
As soon as they were out of hearing range, Preston said, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”
She twisted her mouth in distaste. “With Donald Valegrove? I should think not. He’s an idiot on his best day. I may have been desperate enough to join the Everton Domestic Society, but I shall never be that desperate.”
A flutter of delight started in his chest and spread. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Why are you dancing with me, Your Grace.” She had that fake smile plastered on her face again.
He tightened his grip around her waist, forcing surprise into those expressive eyes. “I have had enough of posturing for the night, Millicent. I just want one real conversation before we end the evening.”
“Are we on a first-name basis now, Preston?” She raised her eyebrows and met his gaze with a directness which exposed the heart of a lion.
He missed a step. Chiding himself for being ridiculous, he said, “I apologize. That was improper. It must be the heat of the ballroom and all this pretense has melted my brain.”
“There is no need to apologize, Your Grace. I’m sure this is trying for you.”
Hating the use of his title for the first time in his life, he bit back the desire to correct her. “You are too kind.”
“How did your evening go? Who shall I add to the list of possible brides?”
“Wilhelmina Tatham was bright and pretty. I have a few questions about her character, but it is too soon to make a judgment.” He liked the way Millicent glided along with him in the dance without missing a step.
“She is a fine candidate. Anyone else?”
Going through his myriad of dance partners in his mind brought back a few stomped toes and dull conversations. “I liked Lady Beatrix Jacoby. She is not brilliant, but she is sweet and lovely.”
“Bea is a very sweet girl. I know her quite well. You will not find a better person. She is well liked in most circles.” Millicent’s tone was flat as all the joy had fled.
“Is something wrong?”
In an instant, the gloom washed away, and she was all business again. “Not at all. You have made excellent progress tonight. If you want, I will come tomorrow, and we can make lists regarding the ladies’ attributes and any flaws as well.”
“It all sounds methodical.”
She cocked her head. “I won’t deny that this is not exactly the most romantic way to find you a duchess, but you have tried it your way and failed twice. This will be a good start. In the end it will still be your decision if you can spend the rest of your life with one of them.”
His conscience niggled at him. “I do owe you an apology, Miss Edgebrook. I was inconsiderate of your feelings the other day in my home. I didn’t mean to say anything that would upset you. Normally I’m quite careful, but it seems with you I have twice blundered.”
“It was nothing.” Her cheeks turned the most delicious pink. “You could tell me about your first attempt at marriage to make it up to me though.”
His gut tightened. “Are you trying to manipulate me?”
“Is it working?”
“No.” He whirled them around with the music.
“The Duchess of Kerburgh, tell me about her?”
This was intolerable. Thankfully, the music ended. “Another time, Miss Edgebrook. Now I think we should collect Mrs. Whimple and return you home.”
He still held her with no music for an excuse. Her breath caught, and they were held in the moment.
Pulling away, she stepped back, forcing him to release her. “I’ll get her if you will get our things.”
While he waited for their garments to be returned, he kept asking himself what he was doing. Millicent was just trying to do what she was contracted for, and he was like a rambunctious lord taking advantage of a woman in his employ. No. He just liked her. It wasn’t anything tawdry. Then why did he feel like an ass?
The butler and the ladies arrived in the foyer at the same time. Once they had donned their outerwear, Preston escorted them back to the waiting carriage. It was early to leave a ball, but he’d had more than enough. Most of the partygoers would not arrive home until dawn.
The carriage soon filled with the light snoring from Mrs. Whimple.
Millicent smiled and looked out the window into the dark night.
Without preamble, Preston said, “I liked Elinor, but I was not in love with her. She is a wonderful woman and deserved more attention that season. We would have suited, if things had been different.”
In the dark carriage, her voice was low and intimate. “How did you meet her?”
He smiled at the memory. “Her mother dragged me across a ballroom to introduce us. It was horrible, and Elinor was mortified.”
“Oh no. What did you do?”
“I asked her to dance.”
She made a soft sigh. “That was nice of you.”
“In a short time, Elinor and I became friends, and I would most certainly have married her. The only trouble was that the lady was already in love with Michael Rollins. Once he came back into her life, I had no choice but to stand down my offer. I would not want a wife who always wished she’d had a different choice. I believed then and I stan
d by it today that had I pushed my offer, her parents would have forced her to marry me and she would have come to resent me. I could not stand that. As it is, I am happy to call the Duke and Duchess of Kerburgh my closest friends.”
“You are a good person, Your Grace.”
“No need to sound so surprised.” There was a wonderful intimacy about her rich voice coming through the darkness. The streets were crowded with carriages in this part of town. It would take them a while to return to Everton House. “Now I’ve told you one of my secrets, may I ask you something?”
In the long pause, he was sure she wouldn’t answer. The carriage jerked forward, and she clutched his knee to keep her seat. “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”
“I think I liked Preston better. If you wouldn’t be too scandalized, would you mind calling me Preston in private?”
“I’ve only known you for two days. Isn’t that a bit early in our friendship for such liberties?” The laughter in her voice said she didn’t believe a word of it. “Ask your question, Preston.”
Never in his life had his name sounded so perfect. “What happened to your parents?”
“They died.” The small voice sounded nothing like the brave Millicent from the parlor and the ballroom.
“I’m sorry. How, if I might know?” It shouldn’t matter to him, but it did.
“When I was fifteen, they took ill within days of each other and died a few weeks later. No one likes to talk about why or how, but it was quick, and my uncle came and took me away immediately after the funerals. I was not out in society yet. Uncle did his best, but his mind is on other matters most of the time. He is kind and loves me. I’m quite lucky if you think about it.”
His heart ached for all she had lost. A girl as lovely and smart as Millicent should not be left an old maid. She should have found a love, married and had three babies by now. She should be happy. “I see that you think about it quite a lot, Millicent.”
“Millie. Everyone just calls me Millie.”
Leaning forward, he reached out and found her hands in her lap. He took them in his and gave a squeeze. “I did not mean to upset you. You have been very helpful, and I don’t believe you are just Millie as you say. To me you will always be Millicent. Did you know your name means strength?”
She pulled her hands back but gently. “No. I didn’t know that. How is it you know such a thing?”
“I’m very keen on what names mean.”
“What does Preston mean?” The smile was back in her voice.
He groaned. “Unfortunately, nothing so perfect as strength. Preston means the priests’ town.”
Her giggle swirled around the small cab. “I’m sorry to laugh.”
“No. It’s funny. It’s a family name and has been passed down through the generations. A few hundred years ago it was the surname of the family who married into the Middletons and thus was given as a Christian name.”
The carriage rumbled to a stop.
Mrs. Whimple snored herself awake.
Millicent laughed.
Preston held his own joy in check. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a lady’s company so much. He jumped down and helped Mrs. Whimple out first. Millicent looked as beautiful as when she first stepped out that evening. He handed her down. “If you come by tomorrow afternoon, we can make the list you spoke of and perhaps a game of chess if you have the time.”
“I shall come by at four o’clock.”
He bowed and waited until the ladies were inside the house before jumping back in his carriage and cursing himself for a fool. “I will not make the same mistake again.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” The driver poked his head in the window.
“Never mind, William. Take me home, if you will.” Preston leaned his head back against the hard cab and bashed it back once as the carriage rolled forward. “No more of this.”
Chapter 4
Millie expected to have a few minutes where she would wait in the fancy parlor and collect her thoughts, but as soon as she and Mrs. Whimple were escorted in by the butler, Middleton appeared from a door hidden within the bookshelves.
“Your mouth is agape, Miss Edgebrook.” He was far too handsome in a green coat and tan breeches. His boots were shined, and he smiled far too warmly.
Shutting her mouth, she pointed at the bookcase. “You have a secret passage.”
He turned back toward the wall of bookcases. “Ah, yes. A fun aspect of this house. There are several means of hiding oneself. Would you like to see?”
Mrs. Whimple cleared her throat.
He bowed and said, “Of course Mrs. Whimple must come along. I promise there is nothing mysterious. This passage leads to the back stairs and then out to the garden. It is one of several in the house. Brookhaven, my country home, is riddled with secrets too. In fact, above the main door is carved Occultis Aperta.”
“Hidden in plain sight. Your ancestors must have been an interesting lot, Your Grace.” She liked this easy side of Preston. He was not stiff as he had been the first time they met or guarded as he’d been at the ball. This was what she imagined he was like with his friends. The idea intrigued her.
“Indeed. Do you think you might do away with my title? If you won’t call me Preston, perhaps Middleton if you prefer? I mean, I’m willing to show you my secret passage, we should be on somewhat familiar terms, should we not?”
It was for Mrs. Whimple’s benefit since she had slept through the carriage ride. Still, he was flirting with her, and the heat in her cheeks could not be helped. “Perhaps Middleton would be acceptable.”
He pulled the bookcase farther open and gestured for her to proceed.
Curious beyond words, she hated to let a secret passage go unexplored, but Mrs. Whimple’s stern expression said she had better keep her place in the parlor. “Perhaps another time, Your Grace. We have much to go over, and you promised me a game of chess.”
With a nod, he pushed the bookcase back into place and walked to the chessboard. “Do you prefer white or black?”
“White, if you please.”
He invited her to sit, and she put her satchel on the floor before complying. The board and pieces were the most beautiful she’d ever seen. She ran her finger along the smooth edge of the queen. “Is it ivory?”
Sitting, he nodded. “A gift to my father from his friend, a French merchant. They were very close. In fact, I am good friends with his son, Jacques Laurent. He lives in London part of the time.”
“It is an extravagant gift.” Each piece was carved to perfection, and the black pieces dyed and polished.
“The Laurent family has done quite well.”
“I didn’t know dukes became friends with men in trade.”
Preston cocked his head, and a warm smile lit his eyes with memories. “My father had some difficulty at Eton and was schooled in Scotland at a small private school where he met a great many characters who influenced his life.”
“I wish I had known your father. He sounds like an interesting man.” Of course, a woman in her position would never have met a duke, and even if she had, they would not have been friends. Yet, Preston was a duke, and here she was starting a game of chess with him. Perhaps the world was changing.
She shook away the notion. It was only because of the Everton Domestic Society that she was in the Duke of Middleton’s parlor. She was still Millie Edgebrook, a woman of little consequence.
“He was unique and spectacular in his way. Of course, his way was not always in line with what society deemed appropriate.” A wistfulness crept into his tone.
Wishing they were contemporaries, so that she might touch his arm and offer comfort, would not make it so. “And are you like him?”
A tick flexed in the line of his jaw before it eased. “No. I went to Eton, finished with a first and have been quite ordinary ever since.”
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br /> Millie moved her pawn two spaces forward to e4. “I do not believe anyone would call you ordinary, Middleton.”
He moved his own pawn to c5, a classic counter. “I care little for what society says. At least, I haven’t until recently when I became the ‘unmarriageable duke.’”
Knight to f3. She said, “Yes, it is much easier to ignore gossip when it is about other people.”
Knight to c6. His smile could light the entire room without need of sunshine or lamplight. “Indeed.”
Her skin warmed as he gazed at her so intensely. She moved another pawn to the square beside the first. “Shall we discuss the two ladies of interest at the ball last night?”
Taking her pawn with his, he said, “Of course. Miss Tatham and Miss Jacoby. What would you like to know?”
She took his pawn with her knight. “I suppose the first question is, did you like them and why?”
Leaning forward, he stared at the board then glanced up at her. “Miss Tatham is pretty and has a good sense of humor. It was easy to be around her. She is quite bright from what I can tell. I liked her.” He moved a pawn forward.
A tightness started tugging in the pit of her stomach. The more he expounded the virtues of Wilhelmina Tatham, the tighter the knot became. She captured his knight and plunked the piece down on the table. “I see. Well, that is a good start. What of Miss Jacoby?”
Preston raised an eyebrow and captured her knight. “Miss Jacoby is sweet. She is lovely to look at but not beautiful by any means. However, that is not important. She is well liked among the ton, and while her conversation is limited, she is full of joy and it was quite nice to be around her.”
He spoke of women as more than objects to be owned. Needing a wife and an heir was all most men thought of, but Preston spoke as if he cared for the person and what she would add to his life. “And what of the negatives? I’m sure you didn’t find them perfect.”
“No one is perfect. And besides, perfect is not interesting. My only concern with Miss Tatham is that she was constantly striving to amuse. While I enjoyed our dance and conversation, I sensed that her sharp wit may hide some fault.”
A Lady's Escape Page 3