They sat in a corner of the small parlor where a grouping of four chairs invited members to relax. A footman asked if they needed anything, and Jacques ordered them each a brandy. The fire had been recently fed and kept the room cozy. Preston’s eyes grew heavy.
Jacques said, “One drink, and then you should find your bed for the night. As for Francis, he told me he begged her to return. He felt guilty for letting her down. Once she explained her long-term goals of seeing the world and helping those in need, he changed his mind and supported her. He’s quite forward-thinking for an Englishman.”
“I just hope his thinking supports me marrying his niece. I would hate to have that stacked against me.” All his worries stampeded through his head. It did no good to dwell on them. Tomorrow he would have his answer.
Jacques waited until the servant had left the brandy and walked out. “What will you do if she refuses you?”
“Since I can’t live without her, I will ask again and again until she says yes. If I have to chase her around the world, I will do that as well. I’m not losing her, Jacques. Not now, not ever.” He downed his brandy in one gulp and reveled in the burn as it made its way down.
“I wish you well, Pres. Go home and sleep before you nod off in that chair. I do not want to have to carry you home.”
“That is not a dignified image.” Preston laughed. “Thank you for looking after her, Jacques. I owe you a great debt.” Rising, Preston shook Jacques’s hand.
“There is no debt. You would do the same for me. I have no doubt.”
It was true. He would bleed for his childhood friend. It was a relief that the Laurent family would all be safe in England soon. France was in upheaval with Napoleon as Emperor, and while their lack of title protected them, it would be far safer for them in England. Pushing worry aside, he went home, found his bed, and the next thing he knew, the sun shone in his eyes.
Preston couldn’t remember when he’d been so tired or slept so deeply. With no time to waste, he ordered a bath. He would be at his best when he saw his Everton Lady again.
At eleven he stood in front of the Edgebrook townhouse and struck the brass knocker.
A tall butler of middle years with red hair opened the door. “Good morning. May I help you?”
Preston handed over his card. A duke should not be as nervous as he was. His hand shook, and his voice was higher than usual. “I’m here to see Miss Millicent Edgebrook.”
The butler bowed, and his hair fell over his eyes. On the way up, he brushed the locks back. “I will tell the lady you are here, Your Grace. Would you please wait in the parlor?”
The parlor faced the street. It was masculine but with touches of lace here and there. A large chessboard took up the alcove in front of the windows, but nothing was in play. This was likely where Millicent learned to play so well. He ran a light touch along the white queen.
Beauty trotted in, and he knelt to pet her while she excitedly licked his hands and wagged her tail.
“Preston?” Millicent asked, and he stood. She wore a simple morning dress the color of the winter sky. Long sleeves and a high neck covered nearly every inch of her soft skin.
He stepped forward and used all his will to keep from swinging her into his arms. She was an allure he couldn’t resist. “Hello, Millicent. I only returned home last night and came as soon as I could. How are you? How is your uncle?”
Stepping inside, she closed the door. “Uncle Francis is recovering nicely. I can order tea if you like?”
Beauty flopped down on the carpet and watched them.
“No, thank you.” If he tried to sip tea, his stomach would surely revolt. “I’m happy to hear that your uncle is doing well. Jacques wrote as much, but I wanted to see you.”
“I doubt your fiancée will be pleased that you came here and surely someone will have seen.” Clearly, she had heard the rumors.
Damn. “Do you think you and I might sit and talk for a while.”
She offered him a seat but then left no time for him to speak. “It really is ill-advised for you to be here. The Duchess of Flintmore is a notorious gossip. If she got her hands on this tidbit, she’d make both our lives hell.”
“Millicent, I came to see you, my friend. I couldn’t be here in your hour of need, so I am here now.” He was making a mess of this.
“Jacques was here. He was a great comfort, and of course, Uncle Francis adored having a like mind to talk to.” She folded her hands in her lap but then fidgeted before crossing her arms over her chest.
At least it was clear she wasn’t indifferent to him. “Jacques is a good friend, and I asked him to look after you.”
“Why would you do that? I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” There was no heat behind her words, just curiosity.
“I know you can. Still, a man wants to be there when the woman he loves is hurting, and if he can’t, he sends his best friend.”
Her bottom lip quivered. She jumped up and walked to the window. “You mustn’t say such things. You are engaged to Lady Helena.”
“I am not engaged to Lady Helena or anyone else at present.” He stepped behind her, put his hands on her waist then nudged them out of the view of the street.
She turned to face him. Fire danced in her sapphire eyes. “You’re not?”
“No. I love you, Millicent Edgebrook, my very own Everton Lady. I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you, and the desire has grown stronger since that moment. I knew weeks ago that you were the only woman I would ever want to marry, but you were so adamant about never marrying, I didn’t know what to do.” His heart pounded so fast, he struggled to draw breath.
She stared at her hands where they pressed into his chest. “I have plans for my life.”
Keeping one hand on her hip, he tipped her chin up with the other and pressed his lips to hers. Fire shot through him as if he’d been apart from her for years instead of a week. He didn’t care if he was making a fool of himself, and he took comfort in the fact that her sweet lips moved under his with open invitation. “Millicent.” He breathed in her scent. “I know you have plans, and I don’t want to keep you from them. All I ask is that you include me in those plans.”
She pushed him firmly away. Eyes as wide as an owl’s, she stared at him for a long beat. “What are you saying?”
He reached out with both hands in an open plea and was rewarded when she put her hands in his. Rubbing the backs of her soft fingers, he dared hope. “I’m asking you to marry me, Millicent. I will beg you if need be, but I’m hoping you will leave me some dignity. If you want to see the world, we’ll travel until you’ve had your fill. If you want to save lives, build aqueducts, dig wells and hire doctors, we’ll do that together until you’re ready to come home to England. I’m saying that I want to spend my life with you no matter where or how.”
“I could never ask that of you. You have plans of your own, Preston. I doubt they include rescuing orphans in Portugal.”
He held fast to her hands when she tried to pull back. “Do you love me, Millicent?”
“That’s not the point.” Freeing herself, she stepped to the center of the room and wrapped her arms around her waist.
Unable to let her go, he followed and nuzzled her neck. “It’s the only point. If you love me, then we will find ways to balance the two. Plus, I’m intrigued by this idea of doing something worthwhile. Perhaps when we tire of travel, we can come home and do many good works here too. I’ve no doubt there are plenty of starving children right here in England.”
A low sniff and her shoulders shook.
Turning her, he found her weeping. The same heart that had filled with joy on his way over to propose to the woman he loved, cracked into a million pieces until he thought he might weep as well. “If you don’t love me, I’ll understand. Making you unhappy is the last thing I want.”
Looking up at him with watery eyes, she
drew a shuddering breath. “I’ve loved you almost from the start. I thought after how horribly I treated you, you would never want to see me again.”
Crushing her to him, he buried his face in her hair, kissed her ear and the soft skin behind it. “Nothing could keep me away. If you say no, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.”
She lifted her face to his and kissed his chin, cheek, and along his jaw. “I’m not saying no. I will marry you. It’s only that I can’t believe you want me. Lady Helena is a much more sensible choice.”
He ran his thumb down the side of her heart-shaped face, drying the tears as he went. “Only on paper.” He kissed her lips, filling himself with her taste. She let him in, and the magnificence of merging tongues surged desire down to his already straining shaft. Between physical desire and emotional pleasure, he was lost. Gasping for breath, he broke the kiss before the need for more became too strong to resist. “You are the far better choice for me.”
Those blue eyes impossibly wide, she pushed back. “What will your mother say?”
“My mother has already given her blessing.” Her question reminded him that he still needed to speak to her uncle. It was prudent to let her step out of his arms.
She paced the room, a narrow crease between her brows. “Why would she approve when you had more appropriate choices available?”
“You are too harsh on yourself, Millicent. You are a bright, beautiful lady and the daughter of a gentleman. We are not so bigoted that you must have a useless pedigree to pass muster.”
“Useless pedigree,” she repeated. “That pedigree is why Gordon Merrifield left me ruined all those years ago. He was so sure he could do better. In the country, he made it clear my money and land was more than enough, and he called that maturity. What a fool I’ve been.”
He stepped in front of her quick cadence before she wore a path in the rug. “You were young, and he took advantage of you. If you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer to leave Merrifield in the past. We will forge a new future far better than if that idiot had secured your hand those many years ago.”
Lurching forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest. “Yes, Preston. A thousand times, yes.”
Hugging her, he kissed the crown of her head. “There is the matter of my asking your uncle for your hand.”
He could feel her smile against him. “He is sitting in his chair. Would you like to meet him?”
A tremor of nerves. “It must be done.”
Taking his hand, she led him up to her uncle’s bedroom. Unshaven for days, Francis Edgebrook had a short beard and gray eyes that watched. He put his newspaper aside with his spectacles when Millie and Preston walked in. “Ah, I’d heard a rumor that you were in the house, Your Grace.”
Millicent frowned at his familiarity without an introduction, but Francis just chuckled. “Preston Knowles, the Duke of Middleton, may I present my uncle, Mr. Francis Edgebrook.”
Preston stepped forward and shook Francis’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Edgebrook.”
“The pleasure is mine. My niece has told me much about you, Your Grace. It was good of you to have your friend Laurent bring my girl home to care for me.” He scratched his beard.
“It was the least I could do. It’s good to see you doing so well. I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.” Edgebrook could have no reason to refuse him, but nerves still roiled Preston’s stomach.
Millie looked torn but then sat in the widow seat. “I think I will stay since this concerns me.”
Preston stifled a laugh. “I suppose I must get used to you going against what society dictates, sweetheart.” He turned to Francis. “That is, if you will give me permission to marry your niece, sir?”
Serious for the first time since they entered, Francis leaned on the arm of the chair. “Will you always listen to what Millie has to say?”
“As she is smarter than me, I would be a fool to ignore her advice.”
Francis narrowed his eyes. “And what of her dreams?”
“I shall make them my own.”
Francis looked from Millie to Preston and back again. “My girl, you want to marry him?”
“Yes, Uncle Francis. I love him and believe he’s the only man who can make me happy.” She spoke to her uncle, but her gaze remained on Preston.
“Well, who am I to stand in the way of love? You have my blessing.” Francis smiled.
Preston rushed forward when Francis tried to stand. They shook hands, and Preston eased him back into the chair before he did himself harm.
Jumping from her seat, Millie threw herself at Francis and hugged him around the neck. “Thank you.”
“Yes, yes, I have to rest. You two go out in the garden or somewhere romantic. Send Reilly to me. I need to shave. This thing is about to drive me batty.” He scratched his cheek and grinned at them.
Taking his advice, they went to the small garden behind the townhouse. Preston took her hand in his. “Perhaps this would be a good day to stop the rumors about Lady Helena. Maybe a walk in the park is what we should do.”
“I think we should write poor Helena a note before we do that. I would hate for her feelings to be hurt.” The path led to a little wilderness with a gazebo at its center.
“A good idea.”
She walked up the steps into the gazebo and sat. “You know, I thought all this time that you would marry Helena but that you were in love with Elinor.”
Taking her hand, he knelt before her. “Not Elinor, Millicent. You. I’m in love with you and only you. What I felt for Elinor was friendship, and I still feel that. I never had any feelings for Helena beyond acknowledging she is a nice woman. The only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love, is you, my Everton Lady.”
Millicent Edgebrook of the Everton Domestic Society married Preston Knowles, The Duke of Middleton. It was all the scandal that season.
Epilogue
Millicent breathed deep the foul air of London. It was awful and wonderful at the same time. There would be no port wine at dinner, but she would see Uncle Francis and Doris, and for that she was grateful. It was good to be home.
Preston’s hand rested at the bottom of her spine, and they both watched the boat dock. “Do you think you’ll be bored in England, sweetheart?”
She never got tired of the possessive touch or his concern for her happiness. Dozens of people bustled along the dock. Uncle Francis waved from beside his carriage while Doris grinned from the window. Millie waved back, and joy filled her at the sight of her family. “No. There are plenty of things to do in England.”
Stepping close until his body aligned with hers, heat spread from the contact. “Oh. Have you made a plan already? I thought we would relax for a while and enjoy our friends, the theater and perhaps a bath whenever desired.”
Laughing, she slapped his arm. “It was not so uncivilized as you make it sound. We had plenty of baths. I remember distinctly going to the stream above the village and having a fine bath together.”
He bent down until his lips touched her ear. “Keep talking like that and your uncle will have to wait while I drag you below and make one last use of our cabin.”
“Behave yourself, Your Grace. You’re back in England. Time to act like the Duke of Middleton.” The notion was at once depressing and exciting. She liked the wild adventurous Preston who trudged through the mud to gather the stone needed to build a rain collector. Not sure who he would be behind the stoic parlors of London, worry set in.
“I always act like the Duke of Middleton. It is who I am. You just have a prejudice against dukes and think us all stuffy ne’er-do-wells.” The gangplank was put in place, and Preston eased her toward the exit.
“We’ll see.”
As soon as she reached the dock, Francis wrapped his arms around her and lifted her
off the ground. “My girl, you look fine, just fine.”
“Thank you, Uncle Francis.” She laughed.
As soon as he released her, Doris hugged her tight. “Oh, miss, I mean, Your Grace, I’ve been lost without you. I’m so glad you’ve returned to civilization.”
“Doris, you’d be quite surprised how civilized Porto is. Though the war did take its toll. I’m happy to be home as well.” They climbed into the carriage and rumbled through London.
Uncle Francis said, “I was given strict instructions by the Dowager Duchess of Middleton to bring you to her townhouse with haste unless you were too tired to visit. She also mentioned that she wasn’t getting any younger and you have been away a long year.”
Preston took her hand. “I think we are rested enough to visit for a while. What do you say, Your Grace?”
She and Preston had fled England so soon after their scandalous marriage, she hadn’t had time to get used to the title. Millicent Edgebrook was a duchess. No one would have believed it possible eighteen months ago, and she included herself in that group. “I would like to see your mother. And I’m sure Jacques is waiting as well.”
“That’s good, because she’s already had a feast prepared,” Francis said.
They all had a chuckle over Philippa’s high-handedness.
Millie turned her attention to Doris, who had been helping Uncle Francis in his lab and taking care of the things that often slipped his mind, like paying the bills. “Doris, I was hoping you would come and stay with us now that we’ve returned. I know you’ve become important to the running of Uncle’s home, but I still hoped you would remain my companion.”
Doris tugged one of her curls. “I would like to spend time with you, Your Grace. And His Grace has a few staff members with whom I’ve become close.” She blushed. “However, I like being needed, and I do the work of a secretary now. I’d hardly have that kind of responsibility if I came to you. Perhaps we can plan a tea once a week when you are in town and a few weeks when I visit in the country?”
How could Millie deny Doris the freedom she herself had waited so long for and might never have found if not for Preston? “I think that will be a fine compromise as long as you call me Millie and not Your Grace or miss.”
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