by Merry Farmer
“I know I did something wrong,” he went on, “and that’s why you’ve been avoiding me. But believe me, Millie, it wasn’t my intention to take advantage of you or to besmirch your honor. I intend to marry you, make no mistake. As soon as Lord Dunsford returns, I’ll go to him and ask his permission, ask if he can employ me in one of his mines as soon as possible. Even if I have to work as a regular miner for a while first. Anything to be able to provide for you to—”
Millie placed a hand over his mouth to stop him, a sob escaping from her. “Don’t. Please don’t.” She glanced over her shoulder, past the doorway and short hall that led to the main part of the downstairs hallway.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asked, pouring far more emotion into the two words than he’d intended. “Has something happened?”
She didn’t answer, which was answer enough, as far as he was concerned. Something had happened, but she wasn’t willing to say what. Owen cast his mind back to Sunday, running through every detail of the day after they’d returned home. The trouble was, after he’d gone to help Harry, he hadn’t seen Millie until morning. Anything could have happened to her.
He stood straighter, taking Millie’s hands and squeezing them. “Whatever it is, we’ll work through it together. I love you, Millie and I—”
His confession was interrupted by Jane clearing her throat. She stood in the hallway with her arms crossed, glaring at Millie. A moment later, her expression shifted to an overly sweet smile. “Oh, Owen. I need your help.”
“Not now, Jane,” he said, focusing on Millie’s downturned face. “I’m busy.”
“Are you?” Jane asked, a sharpness to her voice that set his teeth on edge.
Millie yanked her hands out of his grasp. “You should help her,” she said, then turned and fled the room.
Owen watched as she skirted Jane and disappeared around the corner. “What did you do?” he asked a smug-faced Jane.
“I didn’t do anything,” Jane said, the implication that Millie had thick in her tone. “Now come and help me. I need to fetch a bucket from the top shelf in the brush closet.”
Owen frowned, bristling with suspicion. He marched out into the hall, but rather than following Jane to the right, he veered left, going in search of Millie.
Millie’s throat ached and her eyes stung with unshed tears as she darted down the hall and up the stairs to the butler’s pantry, right off the grand dining room. She had no business at all being in the butler’s pantry when no formal meals were being served, but neither did anyone else. The cabinets were all locked tight, leaving the room empty. It was the perfect place to cry in peace.
Except that apparently she’d been seen.
“Millie? What’s wrong?” Ginny poked her head through the doorway.
The look of heartfelt concern in Ginny’s eyes, of genuine friendship and caring, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Millie burst into tears, and when Ginny rushed all the way into the room, closing the door almost but not quite all the way, she flew into her friend’s arms.
“Oh, Ginny. It’s awful. Everything is ruined, and it’s all my fault.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Ginny hugged her.
Millie scolded herself for falling apart so easily and forced herself to straighten and face her friend. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron, gathering her courage to say everything she needed to say. Ginny was her friend, possibly the closest friend she’d ever had, and it wasn’t right to leave her in bewilderment.
“Is it Owen?” Ginny asked when Millie failed to go on.
The very mention of his name sent spirals of loss and longing through her. She nodded, tears stinging her eyes all over again.
Ginny rubbed her back. “I thought things were wonderful between the two of you. You seemed so happy when you went off for your picnic. Did…did something happen?”
“No,” Millie sighed. “I mean, yes. But it’s not Owen’s fault. Owen is wonderful and sweet and much too good for me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Ginny attempted to send her a teasing grin, but it was the wrong time for joking. Her smile faded, and she said, “I know he cares deeply for you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wants to make a life with you.”
Hearing her friend say as much was like ripping her heart in two all over again. “He does,” she admitted with a groan. “But he can’t. I can’t. He deserves better.”
“Let Owen be the judge of that.”
Millie shook her head. She pulled away from her friend and leaned against the room’s long sideboard. The time for confessions had come. Ginny was too good of a friend to keep her in the dark any longer. But whether she still wanted to be friends once she knew the truth was another story.
“I thought that I could come here and start over, and that no one would ever know who I was,” she began. Ginny suddenly looked anxious, but she held her tongue. “But people know,” Millie went on. “People found out the truth.”
“What people?” Ginny asked.
Millie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows. And…and I want you to hear it from me instead of…someone else.”
“All right.” Ginny moved to lean against the sideboard by Millie’s side, circling her arm around Millie’s back. “Tell me.”
“You’re going to hate me,” Millie whispered.
“I could never hate you,” Ginny assured her.
Millie glanced mournfully up at her, swallowed, and said, “Before I came to Starcross Castle, I was a whore.”
Ginny’s eyebrows went up, but her arm remained behind Millie’s back.
“I’ve been a whore since I was fourteen.”
Ginny gasped, and her mouth dropped open, but she still didn’t shrink away.
“I didn’t want to be,” Millie went on, staring at the molding on the opposite wall. “My father was a drunk. He lost his job at the mine in Colorado. Mama died a few years before that, and he was never the same. Not that he cared much for her. I…I remember him beating her. She put herself in his way so that he wouldn’t beat me and my little brother, Jim.”
She shook her head, clearing away those terrible memories. It was her story she needed to tell, not her mother’s or her father’s.
“We all nearly starved, until he realized I was turning into a woman. I didn’t know why he’d accepted a dollar from that stranger to let him into my bedroom one night until it was too late.” She gulped.
Ginny pressed a hand to her mouth, tears forming in her eyes too.
“Once Pa discovered how easy it was to make money that way, a lot more strangers started coming to our house.” She sniffled, wiping at her tears with her apron. “I learned to stop fighting and just let it happen after a while. It…it didn’t hurt if I just closed my eyes, shut off my mind, and let it happen.” She was sick to her stomach at the memory of the night she’d realized that.
“When I was sixteen and my brother was twelve, Pa came across a man who was more interested in Jim than me. He tried to do what he’d done with me, but even though he was little, Jim fought back. Not only did he hit the man who’d paid for him, he hit Pa too and ran away. I never thought about running, not until that night. I wasn’t strong enough to beat on Pa, but the next morning, when he was passed out drunk, I packed what I could and ran.”
“Good for you,” Ginny said, her voice barely more than a croak.
Millie shook her head. “I looked for Jim, but I couldn’t find him. I only had enough money to get me to Denver. Once I was in Denver, it took me no time at all to realize what Pa knew. I only had one way to make the money I needed to survive. And so I did.” She shrugged, mourning the girl who had disappeared that day and the sad woman who had emerged. Neither were pleasant to dwell on.
“Denver is where I met Bonnie,” she went on. “We…we worked in a place together. Then there was a fire. Bonnie and Rev. Pickering saved me that night. I ended up going with Bonnie when she moved
on to Haskell to start her place there. But Bonnie’s Place was much more than a whorehouse. I learned to read and write and do figures there, and then Mrs. Elspeth Strong came to town, and between her and Bonnie and Mr. Gunn, they came up with the idea of sending us over here, to England, to start new lives.” The first thrill of hope she’d felt all day shot through her.
It was made stronger when Ginny shifted to hold her hand. “I’m so glad you came here,” her friend said through watery, blinking eyes.
“Are you sure?” Millie asked. “Because it doesn’t change who I was. It doesn’t change what I did.”
“The fact that you’re here changes who you are, Millie,” Ginny whispered. “You’ve come here to—”
“Well, well. Isn’t this a cozy tête-à-tête.”
The door leading from the butler’s pantry to the dining room opened, revealing Lord William. Millie gasped and pushed away from the sideboard. Ginny turned ghostly pale and panicked as Lord William looked her over the way Millie had been looked over a hundred times before.
“How sweet of you to bring a friend to our little rendezvous,” Lord William went on. “I do so enjoy bedding two women at once.” He reached out to stroke Ginny’s face, causing her to swallow a scream.
Millie opened her mouth to demand that Lord William leave Ginny alone, but before she could, the door to the servant’s stairway flew open.
“Take your hands off her,” Owen demanded, glaring at Lord William.
There was a moment of shocked silence as Owen saw that it was Ginny Lord William was pawing, not Millie, and as Lord William flinched at being caught by someone as physically matched to him. Ginny wilted in relief, but Millie’s horror grew a hundredfold. If Owen had known exactly the right moment to burst in, it meant he had been listening to their conversation. And if he had been listening to their conversation, then he’d heard every word Millie had said. He knew what she was.
“How dare you speak to me like that, you impudent dog,” Lord William snapped as soon as he recovered from his surprise.
“And how dare you touch a woman who doesn’t want you,” Owen fired right back.
“How do you know she doesn’t want me?” Lord William smirked, glancing from Ginny to Millie. “This one has certainly been game since she arrived.” He reached out and boldly squeezed one of Millie’s breasts.
“I never—” Millie began, her voice strangled. But she knew within seconds that—if Owen truly had heard everything she’d just confessed, including the part about willingly entering the whorehouse in Denver and following Bonnie to Haskell—he wouldn’t believe her. No matter how much he thought he loved her, now that he knew what she was, he would believe any accusation Lord William made.
Especially when Lord William went on to say, “She certainly does enjoy the extra few coins I give her. Along with other things I give her too.”
His tone was so lascivious that Ginny reeled back, pressing a hand to her mouth like she might be sick. Millie had heard things like that and worse, though, and barely reacted.
Which, she realized too late, would be her downfall. “I have never been to your bed, Lord William,” she said with as much strength as she could, which wasn’t much, considering how thoroughly her heart was breaking. “And I never will.”
“Come now,” Lord William said. “No need to pretend. I can see that your knight in shining armor knows what’s what.” He nodded to Owen.
Millie squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the disgust she knew would mar Owen’s handsome face. When she finally peeked, it was worse than she thought, although Owen was staring at Lord William and not her.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t much, but her plaintive whisper was all she could manage.
Owen barely looked at her before a commotion sounded from the servant’s stairs behind them.
“Lord Dunsford is here,” Mr. Snyder announced from somewhere deep downstairs. “His carriage has just pulled into the front drive. Everyone to your positions.”
Without another word, his jaw set in fury and betrayal, Owen charged past Ginny and Millie, and Lord William too, bursting out the other side of the butler’s pantry and into the dining room. Millie’s throat squeezed in misery as she watched him go. He didn’t look back at her. Not once.
“Well,” Lord William said with a sniff. “Let’s just see how my dear uncle feels about two of his maids cavorting with their betters.” He bit his lip and raked both Ginny and Millie with a hungry look. “You know where to come for the money you’ll need to stay alive once you’re dismissed. And I promise you, I’ll make you work for it.” He wiped his lips, then turned to go.
Aching with grief and guilt for having gotten Ginny involved, Millie couldn’t say anything at first. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Ginny. The two of them were still and silent for what felt like a lifetime, until Mrs. Wilson threw open the door from the servant’s stairs.
“There you two are,” she said. If she noticed the distress on both of their faces, she didn’t let on. “Go up to Lord Dunsford’s room at once and make sure everything is in order. I’ve sent Dot up already to light the fire, make sure Lord Dunsford doesn’t see her, and that she doesn’t leave soot marks on his things.” Millie and Ginny were slow to move, until Mrs. Wilson barked, “Hurry along, girls.”
Millie dragged herself into motion with a clumsy curtsy and a, “Yes, Mrs. Wilson.” It would be good to have something to do to distract herself from the end of her world, but her heart wasn’t in it. As far as she was concerned, now that Owen hated her, her heart was shattered, and it would never mend.
CHAPTER 9
T he uproar that resulted from Lord Dunsford’s return was beyond anything Millie could have imagined. Starcross Castle felt like an anthill that had been kicked. But all of the rushing about and last-minute tidying only distracted her for a moment. Her heart—and as a result, her feet—felt as though they were made of lead, and every surface she dusted, every curtain she aired, and every carpet she swept dragged her down.
It was made even worse when she nearly bumped into Owen in the main hall as she came down the stairs, a pile of linen in her arms. Owen carried a trunk, and as they passed on the bottom few steps, he said, “I want to talk to you.”
He looked so serious, so stern, that Millie’s throat closed up. She could no more have said a word to him than she could have erased everything that had happened in her past. Instead, she scurried on, bolting for the butler’s pantry and downstairs so fast she nearly tripped on the landing.
“Heaven sakes. What’s gotten into you?” Mrs. Wilson asked as Millie managed to dump her load of linens into the hamper that would be taken out to the wash house on laundry day. “It’s like you don’t know whether you’re coming or going.”
Millie straightened and did her best to face Mrs. Wilson. Her chest heaved with breaths that wanted to turn into sobs. She wrung her hands in front of her to keep from tearing her apron in two out of grief. And as hard as Mrs. Wilson studied her, Millie couldn’t meet her eyes.
And Mrs. Wilson was studying her. The housekeeper’s eyes were narrowed and her lips pursed, giving Millie the sense, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the woman would call for her dismissal any moment.
But to her surprise, instead of demanding that Millie pack her things and go, Mrs. Wilson said, “Go on up to the dining room and see if Davy needs any help setting the table for his lordship’s luncheon.”
Millie nodded and rushed past the woman and up the servant’s stairs. But rather than hurrying into the dining room, she continued upstairs, all the way to the women’s floor and down the hall to her bedroom. The bedrooms were abandoned and quiet with so much to do in the house, but Millie shut her door all the same. She flew to her bed and burst into sobs, burying her face in her pillow.
It was all over. The new life she thought she had won for herself was over before it had begun, and it tore her heart in two.
There was only so much crying she could do about it, and as he
r sobs began to wear themselves out and her head began to throb, she became aware of an envelope sitting at the foot of her bed. Slowly, groggily, she pushed herself to sit and reached for the envelope with heavy hands.
It was addressed to Millie Horner, Starcross Castle, Cornwall, and bore a large number of American postage stamps. The return address caused her heart to throb—Mrs. Bonnie Cole, Haskell, Wyoming.
With a deep longing in her chest, Millie tore open the envelope and devoured its contents.
“Dear Millie. I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to imagine you waltzing about a castle in England. After all you suffered here, it is a beautiful thing to think that you’ve been given that rarest of gifts, a second chance. I know that you will rise to the occasion and make your new employer, me and all the girls here, and most especially yourself proud.
“We all miss you very much. A few of your old gentlemen callers have asked after you, but when I informed them where you had gone, they were more happy for you than sad for themselves. Howard Haskell has asked about you as well and has told me to send his best wishes and a hearty slap on the back on his behalf. Rev. Pickering wishes you well, and told me to pass on that he has been praying for you. Everyone would like to hear news of how you’re adjusting to your new life, so please write when you have a chance. We’re all so proud of you.”
The letter went on, but Millie couldn’t read it. Tears stung at her eyes all over again, but for a different reason. Up until that moment, she hadn’t felt a lick of homesickness. Now it threatened to swallow her whole. She’d fallen in love with the rolling green hills and blue-grey ocean of Cornwall, but when she closed her eyes and saw the dusty prairie of Haskell, the old, clapboard buildings and the newer, finer houses, when she imagined the church and the baseball field and Howard’s magnificent town hall, she longed for home like she never had in her life. She had friends there, people who cared about her. And no, it hadn’t been an ideal life, but it was what she knew.