A Lady's Escape

by A. S. Fenichel

  Looking up, his gaze intense, he gave her a half smile. “Perhaps you are right.” It hung in the air for a long beat before he said, “You should take the door on the right and go upstairs. Then you can greet the guests. I’m sure Strand has put them in the grand parlor and given them refreshments after their journey. I will go there directly from the door on the left.”

  “Protecting my reputation?” She’d meant to tease him, but it was so sweet a gesture, her voice betrayed her.

  He ran his thumb down her cheek to her jaw. “Of course, Everton Lady. It is my duty as a gentleman to keep you safe in every way.”

  Unable to find fault yet again, she took the door on the right and ran up the steps to her room. Glad to have a few moments to herself, she checked her hair, calmed her heartbeat and strolled down the hall and downstairs to the grand parlor. It was vital that no one ever find out what had happened between Preston and her. It wouldn’t do to look flushed when she walked into the parlor.

  Doris met her at the door. “Are you ready, Miss Edgebrook?”

  “I am, Mrs. Whimple.” Millie nodded to the footman, who opened the door to an enormous parlor with several seating areas, a pianoforte and a harp. Large windows provided a view of the lake and stream in the distance. It was a good room to show off how stunning Brookhaven was. The ladies were sure to be impressed.

  In addition to Bea, Wilhelmina, and Helena, and each lady had her mother with her, Bea’s father, the Earl of Passelmark, was also in attendance. He spoke extremely loudly, and Millie guessed he was a bit hard of hearing.

  In the corner away from the ladies, Jacques Laurent and Miles Hallsmith sipped brandy and laughed. When Jacques spotted her, he excused himself and came to greet her. His smile was easy and wide as he bowed over her hand. “It is good to see you again, Miss Edgebrook. I had a note from your uncle and will meet with him when we return to London.”

  It was impossible not to like the charming Frenchman. “I’m glad he contacted you. I wasn’t sure that he would. Sometimes, he treats those experiments like little birds he does not wish to let fly the nest.”

  His expression sobered. “It can be daunting to allow someone into one’s world, whether that world is personal or one of science.”

  Suddenly she wondered how much Preston’s closest friend knew of their relationship. It took her two full breaths to push down the heat rising in her cheeks. “He has ideas about how he wants to live his life, and he will not alter those for love or money.”

  “I admire the sentiment, Miss Edgebrook, but one must eat to live. Besides, I believe a man will change his life for love regardless of where that loves springs from.” His stare was too intense and too knowing.

  A change of subject was in order. Looking around the room, she noted a tall dark-haired man with the most stunning eyes. They reminded her of a lion’s. “Who is that man talking with His Grace?”

  “Anthony Braighton. His sister is the Countess of Marlton.”

  “Interesting.” She watched the men Preston had chosen as friends. Mostly untitled and quick to smile.

  “What is?”

  “His Grace’s friends are nothing like him.”

  “You mean how handsome we all are compared to his toad-like face. Yes, I am in agreement.” He crossed his arms, keeping his glass of brandy on the outside.

  Laughing, she shook her head. “I mean that His Grace is of a serious demeanor. Not that he is maudlin, but he is staid and thoughtful. Even this estate is a bit whimsical in comparison.”

  He leaned down until his lips were an inch from her ear. It was intimate and uncomfortable. “Preston has more than one side, Miss Edgebrook. Do not judge the man by his title.”

  Had she unfairly judged Preston? No. She had seen his passion and his authority. He was brave and kind. Men did not have so many sides that there could still be things he hid from her. Although, why not? She hid a great many things from him. They weren’t a couple with reason to divulge secrets. He knew enough. Actually, he knew too much. She never should have told him about Gordon, and she shouldn’t have given herself to him, but the latter she refused to regret. It had been the most wonderful night of her life, and she would not spoil it with remorse.

  Wilhelmina Tatham approached, her smile in place. “Miss Edgebrook, it is lovely to see you again.”

  “How are you, my lady?” Millie curtsied.

  “Please call me Mina. I hope to be friends for a long time. You and His Grace are friends, after all.” She fixed her gaze on Preston.

  There was logic in her belief that she would marry Preston and his friendship would extend to her. “That is most kind. You should call me Millie.”

  “What do you suppose they are talking about?” Mina asked, watching the men with an intense gaze.

  “Nothing of interest to us, I would presume. Perhaps arranging a hunting expedition.” Millie looked away from the men and watched Mina.

  Eyes focused and a slight twitch under her left one plus a sour expression made the usually lovely young woman not at all pretty. “Perhaps they are speaking of us.” Her face transformed to perfect smiling affability in an instant.

  Millie turned to find Preston and Anthony Braighton walking toward them. She wasn’t sure what to make of the lady. One moment serious and perhaps even angry, and the next the picture of womanhood. Filing the information away, she greeted the gentleman and was formally introduced to Mr. Braighton. His accent was distinct and his manner relaxed. “You are American.”

  He smiled and was too charming and good-looking for anyone’s good. “Guilty. I was raised in Philadelphia. I came back to England when my sister married the Earl of Marlton.”

  Millie couldn’t help liking him. “You are close with your sister then. As an only child, I’m always jealous of sibling relationships.”

  “My sister would likely say you were better off. I drove her quite crazy when we were children. And in turn, she made my life unbearable as we grew. She spent every moment mimicking me and all of my friends. She has a talent for it and can imitate anyone she hears. It’s most annoying, at least it was when we were young.” He poked fun, but real affection stirred behind his words.

  Longing for the family she would never have was foolish, and yet she couldn’t help it. “It sounds wonderful.”

  Mina stepped closer to the men, nudging Millie out of the circle. “I have three brothers, and they are nothing to envy. When we were young, they pulled my hair, tore my dresses and got me in much trouble with the nanny.”

  Backing up, Preston opened the circle to include Millie again. “And now, Miss Tatham, are you close with your brothers?”

  She shrugged. “My eldest brother is married with two children and rarely comes to town. The other two are still quite wild. Perhaps when everyone is settled we will be closer.”

  Not at all liking the simpering expression on Mina’s face, Millie excused herself from the group. She found a quiet corner to the left of the pianoforte and watched Preston speak to each of the ladies. The group thinned out after an hour as the guests went to rest before supper.

  Staring down at her gloved hands, she didn’t notice Preston’s approach until he sat next to her. “Will you meet me for a game of chess when the guests have gone to bed? We can discuss what we’ve learned.”

  “In one day? It hardly seems necessary.”

  “Please.” Soul exposed in the depths of his dark eyes, he undid her.

  “If I can. I make no promises.”

  “My father’s secret study. I will see you there.” Mood elevated, he got up, bowed and walked over to Jacques and Anthony.

  She waited until they had all gone and then sat down behind the pianoforte and played a child’s tune she remembered from her lessons. Never having become proficient, she still liked to play, and it was a welcome distraction.

  “That’s lovely, Miss Edgebrook.” Jacques
leaned against the instrument.

  After playing the last note of the tune, she put her hands in her lap. “Miss Tatham is a far superior musician, sir.”

  He cocked his head. “I would say she is technically better but without the same heart.”

  “Are you trying to flatter me?”

  “Would that be so terrible?” His smile probably made the ladies swoon.

  Amused, Millie said, “To what end, Monsieur Laurent? Do you want something of me?”

  He shrugged with a French nonchalance. “We share Middleton’s friendship. Must I want something?”

  “Perhaps not, but people usually do.” She kept her tone light, but her mind was wary. Very rich, handsome men, rarely—no, never—sought her out. Yet, Jacques had on several occasions. “My uncle will either do business with you or he will not. My opinion will make no difference, I assure you.”

  He sat on the bench next to her, his leg touching hers from knee to hip. “I would never use you in the way you are implying, Miss Edgebrook. My interest in you is more personal.” He tapped out a pretty tune with his right hand.

  “Are you flirting with me?” The idea was absurd. He was far too rich and far too wild to every be interested in a girl like her. Not to mention that she could never like him in such a way.

  “I am French.” He said it as though flirting was like breathing and should not be taken seriously.

  Unable to hold back, she giggled. “I see. But you came back in the room to speak to me. If it is not scandalous or about my uncle, then what?”

  “I think you know.” He played more of the tune.

  Millie put her left hand on the keys and played the rest of the melody he continued with. “I assure you, I don’t.”

  “Are you in love with our mutual friend?”

  She stopped playing. “No. Of course not.”

  “You should not feel any shame in it. I only ask because I believe he is in love with you.” He continued but played both hands now.

  Standing, she faced the wall so he wouldn’t see her blush. It took her a moment to catch her breath and calm the heat from her cheeks. When she turned, he was watching her like a cat who finally had the mouse cornered. “I work for Her Grace, and you know the rest. I’m sure you are mistaken about Middleton’s feelings. He and I have become friends and that is all.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “He told me about the fire. That must have been terrifying for you.” He changed the subject as he changed the piece he was playing to a more solemn tune.

  “It was a horror out of a nightmare. We were lucky to all have lived. Some were not so fortunate.” The man in the mud with nothing in his eyes haunted her now as well as in her dreams.

  He stopped playing. “I’m sorry, Miss Edgebrook. You should not have had to endure such a scene.”

  Preston had said the same thing. “Why do you say that? It was an accident. People endure tragedy all the time. I should be strong enough to get past such a thing.”

  Rounding the instrument, he faced her and took her hands. “What you experienced that night is not normal. The way Preston described it to me, it was just as the battlefields of war. Men spend a lifetime trying to forget what they have seen during war, and you were not raised for such an event, nor were you trained to survive it. The young driver, William, hurried the other ladies away from the inn because he knew they should not see what was happening. It is unfortunate that you could not be removed sooner, but I am an excellent judge of character and see great strength in you.”

  “That is kind of you to say.” All the soldiers at the inn had been through the same night and worse nights. They had lost friends. It was weakness to let the nightmares overcome her night after night. “I cannot sleep. When I close my eyes, I see bodies flying in pieces through the air. And the smell. Oh, that terrible smell.”

  He rubbed her fingers. “Give yourself time. It may be cliché, but time does heal.”

  Brushing a tear away, she didn’t know why she had told Jacques something so personal. Though, having said it, her heart lightened at giving someone else part of her burden. “Thank you.”

  “Miss Edgebrook?” Preston stood at the threshold, his eyes full of fire and his fists clenched.

  She stepped away from Jacques. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  “Are you ill?” He stepped inside and looked from her to Jacques.

  She wouldn’t deny anything, as she had done nothing wrong. “Monsieur Laurent and I were discussing the incident at the inn. I’m afraid I became a bit emotional. I’m going to go and lie down until supper, unless you have need of me.”

  His expression softened. “No. Go and rest. Do you want me to have Mrs. Whimple attend you?”

  Having had enough talk for one afternoon, she shook her head. “She’ll come up when it’s time to dress for supper. I don’t want to bother her now. I will see you both at supper.” With a hasty curtsy, she rushed from the room.

  * * * *

  Preston was very close to punching his oldest friend in the mouth. “Why did you upset her like that?”

  “You know as well as I that she must talk about it or it will eat her up from the inside. I was helping.” Jacques returned to his place behind the pianoforte and played softly as they spoke.

  “What did she tell you?” Preston paced the room.

  “I’m not going to share that with you or anyone else. It was between Miss Edgebrook and me. She entrusted me with her feelings, and it would be a betrayal to talk about it with you.” He punctuated his statement by finishing the song and going to the table where he poured a brandy.

  “What I fail to understand is why she told you anything. I was there. Why wouldn’t she trust me?” Losing his calm was not unheard of for Preston. Yet, since meeting Millicent, he was holding down frustration several times a day.

  Jacques slapped him on the back. “Perhaps that is just it. You were there. She has nothing more to tell you.”

  “Her feelings. Her fears. There is much to tell.” The urge to run up to Millicent’s room and demand she tell him everything was so strong he had to hold on to the back of the settee to keep his place.

  Gulping his brandy then putting the glass on the table, Jacques blew out a long breath. “I would suggest you ask her if it is important. But be sure that you are doing it for her and not to satisfy your own needs, Pres.”

  “Sometimes I really hate you, Jacques.”

  Jacques laughed. “I know.”

  Chapter 16

  Preston said good night to the last of his guests and watched them walk up the steps to their assigned rooms. Dinner had been lively, but he hated that Millicent was seated at the opposite end of the table from him. Of course, the seating was by rank, and therefore he should have expected her to be as far away as possible. More and more he hated society’s rules. She sat next to Miles, and the two chatted like old friends.

  The resounding jealousy was going to have to be reined in. It was a waste of time and energy. Besides, Millicent wasn’t his to keep. No matter how much he might want it, until he convinced the lady, it would not happen.

  Inside the study, he stared at the chessboard until the pieces blurred. None of this had turned out as he expected, and he was sure it was not what Mother planned either.

  The door from the stairs opened, and Millicent walked in. Still dressed in the rose gown she had worn to dinner, she carried herself like a queen. “Good evening, Preston.”

  He stood. “I’m glad to see that your clothes survived the smoke damage.”

  Taking hold of the skirt, she held it out and looked down. “Only the white items were unsalvageable. The maids managed to get the smell out, but the stains are permanent. I shall replace them when I return to London. For now, they are just underthings, and no one will see them.”

  “I’m sorry. I would b
e glad to assume the cost of those things.”

  She waved off the offer. “The fire was not your fault, and my uncle can afford to replace the items.”

  Offering her a seat, he said, “As you wish, Millicent.”

  “You’ve set the board. Shall I go first?”

  “You were victorious on our first game. Thus, you start.”

  After several moves, she put her chin on her fist and leaned on the arm of the chair, intently studying the board before her move. “What did you think of the evening?”

  “It went well. Why? Did you note anything of interest?”

  “I’m concerned that your first instinct about Wilhelmina Tatham was the correct one.” She moved her pawn.

  He loved the way her hair curled around her face and the intensity in her eyes as she studied her next move. “Oh, did you note something this evening?”

  Snapping her gaze up to his, she said, “I assumed when she was so polite and friendly that you had been mistaken about her hiding her true character.”

  “And now?” He took her knight.

  A sigh. “I think she is not as kind as I first observed. I can’t put my finger on it, but the way she looked at you from across the room made me uneasy, and then her relationship with her family. I’m just not sure she has much feeling at all.”

  “Many splendid people do not get along with their families, Millicent.”

  “True.” She captured his rook with a brilliant move he hadn’t expected.

  He moved his pawn, putting her queen in danger. “Still, since you have misgivings, I shall keep my eye out for anything that might give Wilhelmina away as a bad candidate for duchess.”

  Wrapping one of her curls around her finger, she twirled the lock. “I noticed that your friends call you Pres.”

  “Yes.”

  “Shall I call you that too?” She looked up from hooded eyes.

  The fact that she was so adorable, and all he wanted to do was worship her, made sitting across the chessboard torturous. However, having her to himself was a treat, and he wouldn’t abuse it. “You may if you prefer. We are friends.”