A Lady's Escape

by A. S. Fenichel

  Her lack of pretense made him forget that her father was a Dutch baron. She had none of the high-headed attitude of the ton. Perhaps that was why he liked her. “I have traveled to your father’s country and found it quite beautiful.”

  “It is lush, green, and the flowers are magnificent in the spring. Still, it is not my preference, and the crossing is always difficult.”

  There was no arguing with that. The sea could be treacherous. It would not be long before their absence would be cause for gossip. “Shall we return to the parlor, my lady?”

  Nodding, she took his arm.

  Preston scanned the room for Millicent and found her speaking to Miles Hallsmith near the dark fireplace. The two were speaking in low tones with their heads close, conspiratorially. He was going to have to get this jealousy under control before he was tempted to batter all of his friends for even looking at her.

  Chapter 9

  Mother was the last to leave the party. “It was a pleasant evening, Preston. I hope it helped with your decision.”

  Kissing her cheek, he realized he knew less of what he wanted now than he had before the party. “Not yet, Mother. However, I’m sure in time the correct decision will present itself.”

  Mrs. Whimple pushed through the servants’ door, curtsied and rushed into his study.

  He’d thought Millicent had left, but she must still be in the study.

  A wide grin spread across Mother’s face. “I suppose you and Miss Edgebrook have a lot to discuss.”

  The clock in the foyer struck two in the morning, yet the idea that Millicent had waited for him in his study brought a new energy to Preston. “Good night, Mother. Thank you for being such a charming hostess this evening. May I call on you again if the need arises?”

  “Of course.” She patted his cheek and stepped through the open door to her waiting carriage.

  Simpson closed the door. “Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

  “No. I can manage to get Miss Edgebrook and her companion into their carriage. Go to bed.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Simpson gave a nod and walked away.

  Preston couldn’t help the bubble of anticipation associated with seeing Millicent. In fact, he didn’t want to help it. Not since he was a young man infatuated with a slightly older girl from the village near his country estate had he experienced the thrill of a new love. The only problem was to convince the lady. First, he needed to know the truth behind her obvious reluctance. Perhaps it was Gordon Merrifield who had soured her on the idea of marriage and forced her to send all her prospects into the path of other women.

  She had her feet curled under her skirts and sat studying the chessboard. “I have you in checkmate in five moves.”

  “Yes. I noticed. Would you like to start another game?” He sat across from her.

  With her head resting on the chaise, Mrs. Whimple mumbled in her sleep.

  Millicent smiled. “In my experience men do not care for women beating them at their games. I’m surprised you want to play again.”

  “I think you have been subjected to the wrong kind of men, Millicent. I enjoy a good match regardless of the sex of my opponent.” He loved it when she blushed, and even more when he caused the effect.

  Mrs. Whimple snored lightly and turned toward the wall away from them.

  “Perhaps I should take her home. It is quite late.” Picking up the pieces, she reset her side of the board. She took up the king, which had not been moved, and rubbed its smooth surface with her thumb.

  Dear God, why did everything about her have to be so sensual? Preston contained his desire and put the black pieces back in place. “Perhaps we should let her sleep a few minutes and step out on the veranda. It’s not as nice a view as the garden, but the moon is full tonight and it will be well lit.”

  She accepted his arm and went out the French doors with him. “Did you learn anything of interest about any of the ladies?”

  His sigh was so close to the surface, he had to stifle it. “All three are intriguing. I found nothing that would remove any of them from our list. Miss Tatham uncovered the plan to choose whom to court. She was curious about you, but she was not dismissive or unkind about any of her competition and seemed to accept that our relationship was not romantic.”

  “Wilhelmina is smart and unafraid to speak her mind. That might be a nice change.” Millicent leaned against the railing and crossed her arms over her chest. The move pushed her breasts to the top of her gown.

  Stepping closer, he longed to touch her, hold her and pull her close. “I can confirm that I like all three of the ladies, though noted no particular regard on their part.”

  “Lady Jane suggested you might have a house party in the country. It would give you much more time to know them better and perhaps one of them will distinguish herself as the right bride for you.” Breath quick, she turned to face him.

  “I can certainly see why Miss Tatham would think you among the ladies vying for my attention.” He slipped a stray curl through his fingers and relished the silken softness.

  “I’m sure she realizes I’m far too old and of too low rank to be in such a race. If you told her I am merely a friend of the family, then she would have believed you.”

  “You know, Millicent, I don’t care for the way you speak of yourself. You are an astounding woman who could have anything you want.” One step closer.

  She craned her neck to keep eye contact. “I plan to have exactly what I want, Preston. I have plans for my future.”

  The skin along her jaw was so enticing, and he longed to dot kisses from her chin to her ear and every other inch of skin he could expose. “What plan is that?”

  “Perhaps someday I will tell you.”

  He leaned close enough to feel her breath. “But not today?”

  Breath ragged, she moved a fraction closer. “No. Not today, Preston.”

  The lightest touch of her lips to his was a bolt of lightning. Breathing became secondary to the soft sigh the kiss elicited. If he could hear that for the rest of his life, perhaps even going to the House of Lords would be worth coming home for one more kiss. Wrapping his arms around her slight form, he deepened the kiss and tasted her sweet tongue, grazed the edge of her teeth, nibbled her full bottom lip.

  She slid her hands between them and pushed lightly on his chest, breaking the kiss. “Preston, this is wrong.”

  He stepped back. “Why?”

  She pressed fingers to the lips he had just delighted in.

  It was almost more than he could take.

  “It is late. You are confused, and I have other plans. Whatever this is”—she waved between them—“it is not what I want.”

  As if a knife dug into his chest, she had said exactly the thing that would keep him from pushing her for more kisses. “I see. I apologize. You’re right. It is very late, and you should get Mrs. Whimple home. I think your idea for a house party has merit. Give me a couple of days to work out the timing and a possible list of guests. I’ll be attending the Dalton ball on Wednesday next. Will you accompany me in case there are any new developments?”

  “Of course. It’s my duty to help you find a bride.” Millicent ran from the veranda and shook her companion’s arm. “We have to go, Doris.”

  “Your carriage is waiting out front.” He followed them out the door and handed them into the carriage. “I look forward to our next chess match, Miss Edgebrook.”

  She took several breaths and would not meet his gaze. “Perhaps a new game next time we have information to document?”

  She wasn’t dismissing him without hope. Relief surged into joy. “Very good. I will contact you before the Dalton ball. Good evening and thank you for all your help.”

  Her throat bobbed with a swallow and made him long to taste her skin and feel her pulse on his lips. He tapped the carriage and stepped back, allow
ing the driver to pull away.

  It was not going to be easy to alter her plans, whatever they may be. His first objective must be to find out what Millicent wanted out of life and make sure he was a part of that future.

  * * * *

  Millie hadn’t slept all night. How could she have let him kiss her? She poked at the coddled eggs on her plate and wished she’d disliked the kiss. In truth, it had been the single most pleasing experience of her life. Nothing had ever warmed and excited her as those moments in Preston’s arms had.

  She never should have told him about Gordon. Why else would he take such a liberty, except that she was already tainted and the contact could do no further damage? Her fork clattered against the dish.

  “Miss Edgebrook, are you all right?” Miss Wittman asked from across the table.

  Picking up her fork, she forced a smile. “Yes, thank you. I did not sleep well and seem to be a bit distracted this morning. Luckily, I have the morning to myself.”

  Miss Wittman had a trusting smile and soft eyes. She looked every bit the part of a proper lady, with her high-necked dresses and sensible hats. “I too have no appointments this morning. Would you care to walk in the park? Perhaps that will clear your head.”

  It was just the thing to get her mind off of a certain duke and his marital problems. “I would be delighted.”

  “Wonderful. We can go directly after breaking our fasts. The park will not be crowded so early, and I find it a perfect way to think things through.”

  “Thank you, Miss Wittman. You are most kind.” Having started her assignment the day after she came to Everton House, Millie hadn’t had any time to get to know the other ladies well. Perhaps that had been an error in judgment.

  “Not at all. Please call me Ann.”

  “Ann it is, and you must call me Millie.” Pleased, she took several bites of her coddled eggs, but they had gone cold, so she had a bit of sausage instead. She would avoid any close contact with Preston, find him a suitable wife, and they would part ways when the assignment was over. Ignoring the knot in her stomach, she put her fork down. “I’ll just run up and fetch my hat and gloves, and we can be on our way.”

  Ann had been right. The park was deserted, as most members of the ton did not venture out until a much later hour. “How is your first assignment going, Millie?”

  “Very well so far. It’s up to His Grace to pick a bride. Once he does, I’ll confirm the lady will accept. I wouldn’t want him to be thwarted once again.”

  “Oh no. That would be a disaster.” Ann pointed to a bench along the river. “Shall we sit a while?”

  Millie nodded. They weren’t far from where she had picnicked with Preston and met Gordon. She’d been a fool to think she would never see Gordon again. Though she’d managed for almost nine years without running into him. Seeing him at the park was like all her mistakes coming back to haunt her. Telling Preston was her penance.

  The park was so nice, she visited it each morning for the rest of the week. On Friday, Ann joined her again, and while they walked home, they had a stirring chat about how to best help a girl with her first season. As soon as they turned the corner, Millie spotted the Middleton carriage in front of Everton House.

  Perhaps Preston had made his choice and had come to inform her that her services would no longer be necessary. The idea clogged her throat, but she forced a serene expression and walked up the steps. This was not an end; it was a beginning. She would be a model Everton Lady and fulfill her dreams.

  At least that is what she told herself as she crossed the threshold into the foyer. “Gray, I see we have company.”

  “Yes, miss. His Grace and Lady Jane are waiting for you in the office.” Tufts of Gray’s white hair caught the breeze as he held the door for them. “I will take your things, so you can join them immediately.”

  Ann said, “Here, give them to me. I will put your things in your room, Millie. I’m sure it must be important for His Grace to have made the trip.”

  “Thank you. I will see you at luncheon.” Millie handed over her pelisse, gloves and hat before striding to the office door and knocking.

  “Enter,” Jane said.

  Blowing out the breath she’d been holding, she pushed the door open. Preston sat on the couch near the window, with Lady Jane seated to his left in an overstuffed chair. The way the light shone in, he glowed with magnificence. They both looked quite serious, confirming her fears.

  “Are my services terminated?”

  Preston rose, his eyes wide. “No.”

  Lady Jane said, “Why would you think that, Miss Edgebrook? Do you wish to be removed from this assignment?”

  “No,” she answered too quickly.

  “Please have a seat.” Jane motioned to the empty chair to Preston’s right. “His Grace has arranged a house party as you suggested and wanted to discuss taking you to the country. As you were not here, we have been engaged in a lengthy discussion about the progress thus far.”

  “I see.” Her throat clogged to the point where pushing out those two words was the best she could do.

  “I wanted to make sure you and Mrs. Whimple would be available to leave next week and be out of London for a fortnight before I send out the invitations.” His tone had changed. A shake that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps a lack of certainty that came with being a duke.

  It took a force of will to push aside her memory of the kiss they’d shared. “I do not see a problem. I will see my uncle this afternoon for tea and explain my absence to him.”

  Jane brushed out her skirt. “I’m certain we have a chaperone for Miss Edgebrook even if Mrs. Whimple is unavailable.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. Doris is very devoted.” Two full weeks in the country was more than she had spent in years. Uncle Francis rarely took time away from his experiments and inventions to relax in the country. This was the right thing for Preston. He would have the time he needed to learn which of the ladies was the right one for him.

  An odd shyness had come over him. “We will leave on Friday next. Will that give you enough time to prepare?”

  “Of course.” She began making a mental note of all the things she needed to do before next Friday. She would speak to Uncle Francis and make arrangements to see him on Thursday rather than not see him for three full weeks. Today she would ask for funds and go shopping for new dresses. Perhaps a dress or two could be made in short order. The list went on and on.

  Jane’s clap brought her out of her thoughts. Standing, she said, “It seems all is in order.”

  Preston stood. “It would seem so.”

  “Will you still be needing me on Wednesday, Your Grace?” Millie’s emotions were in such a jumble she no longer knew what she wanted him to say.

  “The Dalton ball is a highlight of the season. Perhaps we might expand our options.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “As you wish.” She could say nothing more with Jane in the room.

  “Miss Edgebrook, will you see His Grace to the door?”

  Millie realized she was the only one still sitting and jumped up. “Of course, my lady.”

  He stopped in the foyer. “Are you upset with me, Millicent?”

  “Not at all, Your Grace. I understand where you might have thought such a liberty might be acceptable.” If only she felt as calm as she sounded. It was the first time in her life she actually allowed her past to define her and wished things were different.

  Preston narrowed his eyes. “This is not the place to discuss this further, Millicent, but I assure you that you have the wrong idea. I am honored that you shared your past with me and would never think to take advantage of that information.”

  “I’m certain you believe that, Your Grace.”

  “Don’t ‘Your Grace’ me. My name is Preston. We are friends, are we not?” He didn’t wait for a reply before he
grabbed his hat from Gray and strode from the house.

  The myriad emotions rushing around Millie’s head were astounding. One minute she’d thought she’d lost her post, and the next she was contemplating two weeks in the country with Preston and the woman he would marry. Despite not knowing which woman it would be, a knot of jealousy tightened in her chest. It was better that he was angry with her. She had done everything she could to cause him to dismiss any interest he might have in her. She’d revealed her darkest secret and treated him as any Everton Lady would treat a client. The kiss could be dismissed as too much brandy and exhaustion.

  Going forward, they could go on as friends and resolve his marital issues. It was what she wanted. So why did her stomach rumble like it might turn up her last meal?

  With a quick inhale, she sprinted up the steps. She was halfway to the top when Lady Jane stopped her.

  “Miss Edgebrook?”

  Millie turned. “Yes, my lady?”

  “May I have a word?” Jane followed her up, and they went to Millie’s private room.

  Millie’s sorrow had turned to dread. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Lady Jane cocked her head. “I don’t know. Have you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “His Grace seems a bit too interested in your happiness. Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Jane’s tone was even and calm. She gave no indication of anger or disappointment, only concern.

  “I believe it is his nature.” It was the truth. Preston Knowles always worried about everyone’s feelings. It might not have been true to the question behind Jane’s comment, but it was not a lie.

  “Perhaps. If that is the case, he shall make someone a fine husband.” Jane’s brown eyes filled with worry, but she didn’t push the issue.

  Knowing her job was to find Preston a wife didn’t make the idea of him spending his life with another woman any easier to swallow. A lifetime of watching him dote on his wife and children was more than Millie could bear. She would be far away by then. Maybe she’d go to Portugal and help with war orphans, or to Egypt, maybe farther. Besides, even if she stayed in England, it was unlikely she would run into Preston once her assignment was over. “I believe he will make an excellent husband, and he seems to like all three of the prospects. I see no sign of love from any party. Preston does not seem to mind the idea of a marriage based on mutual respect. I’m optimistic about the outcome.”