My Earl the Spy

by Audrey Harrison

  “You must eat more,” Milly said, unconsciously pushing a plate of cake towards him and handing him a fork. She blushed at Henry’s heated stare, realising she had overstepped polite behaviour; it was not her role to fuss over him in such a way. She busied herself by pouring more tea.

  “Who is at home to greet you?” Henry asked, changing the subject to spare her blushes, not realising Milly was as reluctant at speaking about her home as she was at flirting with him.

  “My mother. My two younger brothers are at school,” Milly said quietly.

  “Your father?”

  “Died a few years ago,” Milly acknowledged.

  “I know Farnham a little; I visited once some time ago. I remember Castle Street and the castle but very little else.” Henry’s tone was easy but, as always, he was watching her with interest.

  “We moved to the centre of town after my father died. It is a pretty town; the market fills Castle Street every week, which I always liked to watch from the window. I enjoyed the hustle and bustle it brought.”

  So there was no money in the family, Henry mused silently. There was usually only one reason a family moved after a death, and that was purely based on finances. It probably explained why she was still single; if there was no dowry, it usually did not matter how pretty the young woman was; there was always going to be someone richer, although not necessarily as pretty or entertaining. Those attributes were considered secondary when considering a wife by most of the ton.

  “Your mother must have missed you. I believe you have been some time with your cousins?”

  “Yes, more than four years. I joined them soon after my father died; it suited everyone as it was not long after my aunt had died, and I took on the official role of chaperone to my cousin,” Milly explained. Oh, how one could hide so much in so few words! But long may it remain hidden she thought privately.

  Henry continued to be charming until it was time to leave. He left Milly seated in his carriage while he completed his business transaction with the printer and then gave instructions to return his companion to her home. Surprisingly, he had enjoyed his afternoon out but, just as Milly did, he realised they would not cross paths again.

  He sighed as they travelled through the streets of London. He needed to do something that had been niggling away at him for weeks now, and the action would not come naturally to him.

  “Miss Holland, I have an apology to make,” he started.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, that blasted night in Dorset is haunting me for a number of reasons. One of the reasons involves you.”

  Milly immediately flushed a deep red. “I feel it would be better for both of us if we don’t mention that evening, My Lord,” she said, not wishing to resurrect the feelings that were already difficult enough to suppress. It was a shame to cast a cloud over proceedings when the afternoon had been so pleasant.

  “I behaved like a complete scoundrel,” Henry said quietly.

  “You did,” Milly admitted.

  Henry chuckled. “Yes, I did! I’m sorry I reacted so cruelly; you didn’t deserve it, and I wish I could take back the words I uttered.”

  “What did you say that was so wrong? I would not be brave if faced with what happened that evening, and I’m fully aware that I couldn’t protect myself. You were right: a pencil is little weapon against people who are going to be hanged if caught,” Milly said fairly. She had already admitted to herself that his words had been a correct assessment of her character.

  Henry moved across the carriage, so he was seated at Milly’s side and took her gloved hand in his. “I was inexcusably harsh. I was angry with myself; I had been dismissive about the dangers to those around me, and there could have been many more deaths than there were. I was hiding from everything because I knew it was my fault and then you came running around that corner and tore a strip off me. I wasn’t ready to accept it then, but every word you uttered was true.”

  “It was a hard night for everyone involved,” Milly acknowledged, looking down at her hand being clasped in his large one.

  Henry watched the gentle Milly as her colour heightened. What was it about her that made him long to put his arms around her and protect her from the rest of the world? He had never felt that about anyone else ̶ except one, but he could never allow himself to dwell on those memories; they were a physical pain, barely suppressed. For the first time, since meeting Milly, he had found someone who made him feel warm inside, warmer than the ice block he usually felt.

  He took one of Milly’s curls and curled it through his free fingers. “I could so easily kiss you now like I did on that night,” he said with a smile at Milly’s surprised expression at his touch.

  “You pushed me away,” Milly said quietly. She wanted him to kiss her so much she ached to lean into him, but it was no use. His kisses were a risk to her reputation and she could not act so foolishly for a second time.

  “You should have run from me then, and you should run from me now. I’m not a good man, Miss Holland.”

  “I’m sure you are being too harsh on yourself, My Lord.”

  “Am I?” Henry asked gruffly. He could tell her tales that would shock her and convince her never to look at him the way she sometimes did. He was a fool for needing her good opinion and decided to take control of the situation. “Your kisses weren’t that of an innocent,” he said, reverting back to his usual persona and voicing the words that had bothered him since he had touched her lips.

  Milly looked pained, once more reminded of a time she would rather forget. “I have kissed before.” There was no point in lying.

  An expression of anger crossed Henry’s face which surprised her. It would have puzzled her further if she had realised how much Henry was trying to control his feelings at the thought that someone else had experienced her first tentative kisses.

  They were disturbed by the coach coming to a halt, and Henry cursed that they had arrived at Half Moon Street. He bent forward and kissed Milly lightly on the lips before a footman opened the carriage door. There was no opportunity to lengthen the kiss as he wished to.

  Milly used her free hand and, for a second, she threw caution to the wind and cupped Henry’s cheek in her hand. “Goodbye, My Lord. Stay safe,” she whispered before moving to the carriage door. She reached out and let the footman help her onto the pavement.

  Not looking back, Milly entered the house. This time he had kissed her, not reacting in anger as he had on that first fateful night, but in some ways, he had hurt her just as much. She would be returning home with so much longing in her heart that it would be difficult to function, but any girlish dreams were crushed when she heard the sound of the carriage pulling away and travelling down the street. Women like her did not attract men like Lord Grinstead, of that she was completely sure.

  Chapter 5

  Farnham, Surrey.

  Milly watched the carriage leave with a heavy heart. Charles and his new wife had kindly altered their wedding trip in order that they could deposit her safely at home. Charles had again tried to persuade her to stay in London, waiting for Clara’s return, but she was sure that coming home was the right thing to do. Things had changed, as she had expected them to do, always presuming that Clara would marry, and so now she had to take control of her own future.

  Turning back into the small townhouse Milly closed the door and set her shoulders. There was nothing to gain in postponing the inevitable. She entered the front room of the house, and her mother looked at her in disgust.

  “I hope you’ve earned enough to pay for your keep while you’re here. I can’t be expected to pay for you!” The older woman said. She was as tall as Milly, but thinner; some would describe her as too thin. Her eyes were the same as her daughter’s but could not have been more different in the way they looked at the world. Mrs Holland was a woman who perceived herself to be hard done by; she took no responsibility for the way her life had unfolded, expecting everyone around her to shoulder the blame and at the same time provide
for her. She had been a flighty young woman who had married a foolish man. Their lifestyle had ruined them and, from then on, Mrs Holland had been unreasonably bitter and twisted about life and what she thought was owed to her.

  “I was a guest of Clara’s not a paid member of staff,” Milly said quietly. She was relieved the onslaught had not started whilst Charles had been present; her cousin had done so much for her family, she did not wish him to witness her mother’s bitterness.

  “So, you’re as penniless as you left then!”

  Milly had been given an allowance, as well as her food, board and clothing for all the years she had lived with her cousins. She could have told her mother she had managed to save some money, although it was not enough to consider herself rich. It would be just enough to tide her over until she sought a paid position.

  “I shall be applying to be a companion to someone else as soon as a position is advertised,” Milly explained dully. “I’m hoping not to encroach on your hospitality for too long.” It hurt Milly and her siblings that her parent saw her three children as burdens to be got rid of.

  “I should hope not! I can’t afford luxuries that you’d be used too, swanning around London like you had no cares in the world!”

  “I escorted Clara, that is all.”

  “I’ve hardly two ha’pennies to rub together. You could have sent me any spare funds you had.”

  “I didn’t have any,” Milly responded, consoling herself that she was not unreasonable in lying to her parent. “Charles pays for everything you need, Mother. I know you have no financial worries; he makes sure of that.”

  It was true; the kind-hearted Charles had stepped in when Milly’s father died and left them all facing ruin. It had been shocking how fast the creditors had emerged, almost as soon as her father had taken his last breath, but Milly could not really blame them; her parents had lived frivolous, expensive lives. Charles had committed to paying for her two brothers to be sent to school; Milly had been sent to live with Clara, and her mother had received enough funds to live in a small house in the centre of town. Mrs Holland hated the fact that she had fallen down the social scale so much and blamed everyone apart from herself and her deceased husband.

  Milly was the main one of her children who her mother unfairly blamed for her straitened circumstances. “Mrs Connor visits me regularly,” Mrs Holland said, finally starting on the topic of conversation that had been inevitable but dreaded by Milly.

  “I hope she is well,” Milly responded, feeling dead inside.

  “She will be as she is living in the big house, which should have been yours!”

  “It was never going to be mine once father died, and the reality of our situation became clear.” It had been hard to grieve for someone who had acted in such a selfish way, disregarding the impact on his children and their futures. Milly would never forget the tears of her brothers as they berated themselves for not realising what was happening. She had tried to comfort them; there was a large age gap between the siblings, the ones who had been born between Milly and her brothers not surviving the first months of pregnancy, which contributed to the feelings of bitterness already developing within her mother.

  “You should have done something to secure the engagement! You just sat by and watched him walk out of your life!” Mrs Holland snapped. She looked at her daughter with disgust for failing in her duty to secure a good match.

  “Mr Connor wanted nothing to do with me or this family once he realised there would be no dowry after father’s death,” Milly said. She had not had to utter the words for four years, but they still stirred up feelings of the complete betrayal she had experienced when hearing them from the man she had loved.

  “You were engaged!”

  “And he withdrew the offer, facing the scandal of that action, rather than the lack of funds. He knew full well that we couldn’t sue for breach of promise.” It had been the worst time of Milly’s life, even worse than losing her father, if she were honest. A death stirred sympathy, a broken engagement caused gossip and unkind speculation. Especially, as it was rarely heard of for a gentleman to call off the engagement from a lady.

  “You could have used the word compromise,” Mrs Holland said, not for the first time.

  “And completely ruin my reputation and either have a husband who despised me, or an abandonment issue with which to contend and even more gossip to deal with!” Milly responded tartly. She sighed. “I will soon have a paid position, Mother, and be off your hands again. I’m sure it will only take a short time.”

  “In the meantime, I’m living in this hovel when I could have been living with you in the grand house that they now live in!”

  Milly let out a breath; her mother would never accept anything other than she was ill-used; she would always abhor the house she lived in. Admittedly, it was not as grand a house as they had all lived in until Mr Holland died, but the reality was that they would have probably lost that house because of the debt anyway if he had not died so suddenly. The death had purely hastened the inevitable and given Mr Connor the opportunity to renege on his offer.

  Mrs Holland hated her little house. It was in a good part of town and although it had only two downstairs rooms in addition to the kitchen area, there was a pleasant upstairs drawing room and three bedrooms. Thanks to Charles, Mrs. Holland was able to afford a cook who came in each day, a housemaid who worked daily and a man of all works who visited twice a week to carry out all the tasks the maid and cook could not or were not prepared to do.

  For a lady living alone, this should have been enough; Milly was aware of many people who did not live in such luxury, but Charles had insisted on providing for his relation, and Mrs Holland would never have considered the burden of her needs on Charles’ funds. So she had moved from her far grander home on the outskirts of Farnham to the centre of town and had not stopped complaining since.

  The bombardment on Milly by her parent continued until she sought refuge outdoors. There were still some people she considered friends in the town where she had grown-up in and she visited them without her mother in tow to dampen the mood.

  One such friend, the now Mrs Sarah Hastings greeted Milly with open affection after reading the card she had supplied to the footman. Sarah was the same age as Milly, securing a very early marriage and now lived very comfortably with her husband and her increasing brood.

  “So, how many children is it now? It must be double figures!” Milly teased with a smile as she took a sip of Jasmine tea.

  “You know full well how many there are, as they all eagerly await for the post to arrive on birthdays, to see what treats Aunt Milly has sent, although sometimes I admit I forget how many I’ve got myself!” Sarah laughed. “Eight darlings and one more to arrive in a few months.”

  “It’s nice to be able to offer my congratulations in person,” Milly responded.

  “I thought we had a house full when we reached five, but it appears that we are to be blessed with a large family. The nursery can get very noisy, but I do like seeing them all happy.”

  “I can imagine that life is never dull.”

  “No, not at all, especially when one comes down with something. My children love to share everything, illnesses included! The nanny is a saint, thankfully, and soon the eldest boys will be going to school; that should help to keep her sane!”

  “I love receiving your letters, and I expect them to continue when I leave for pastures new.”

  “I wondered what you intended to do. I wish you would stay near Farnham; it has been too many years since I’ve seen you,” Sarah said with feeling. The women had been inseparable as they had grown, and each had missed the other’s company over the last few years.

  “It is, but I’m afraid I could not stay with mother; she is not happy that I’ve returned, already lamenting about it for more than an hour,” Milly said with feeling. Sarah was the only person that Milly could be honest with.

  “You poor thing. I don’t suppose you have seen the Connor
s yet, have you?”

  “No. I have that delight to come,” Milly groaned.

  “She, especially, glides around town as if she owns the place!” Sarah harrumphed in disgust.

  Milly smiled. “As one of the wealthiest families in town, I suppose she does in a way.”

  “I wish they’d move away. Every time I see him I want to give him a piece of my mind! Are you not angry with him?”

  “After all this time? No! There would be no point in that,” Milly said reasonably. “He hurt me, and there is still a wound that hasn’t completely healed, I admit. But he gave me the chance to withdraw from the engagement, which would have saved some heartache, only I chose to refuse to do that. I sometimes think I was too stubborn and should have taken the option to call it off.”

  “I can’t blame you for that. You loved him,” Sarah said softly.

  “But he didn’t love me, so perhaps it’s for the best,” Milly responded stoically. The thought that the man she had been engaged to had not loved her had crushed Milly when the engagement had been broken off but, somewhere over the past few years, Milly had come to terms with the rejection, at a distance at least; whether she would feel the same when faced with him, she had yet to find out.

  “I still can’t abide the weasel!”

  Milly laughed. “Don’t make yourself uncomfortable on my account; it isn’t worth it, I promise you!”

  *

  If Milly was hoping for a quiet time at home until she found a position that would see her leaving her home town once again, she had forgotten how demanding her mother was. Having bemoaned Milly’s arrival, Mrs Holland then proceeded to insist on Milly’s attendance at every invitation she received.

  Mrs Holland always tried to be invited out every evening. Her justification was that it was less costly for her to visit than to stay in, anything to save a penny or two. The town was big enough to have sufficient families who were happy to invite such a grateful widow into their midst; none would witness the bitter woman that Milly was subjected too.