by Jen Turano
Abigail grinned. “She’s such a dear, sweet girl. Possessed of such a quiet and delicate nature.” She looked at Millie. “Well, aren’t you going to go get ready as well?”
“It’s still two hours before the ball.”
“Hardly any time at all for you to primp.”
“I never take time to primp.”
“Yes, I know, it’s one of your greatest faults—slightly endearing, mind you, but still . . .”
Leaning closer to Everett, Millie lowered her voice. “Just remember, this was your idea, and I’m telling you right now, it’s not a very good one.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“You say that now, when Caroline and all your friends aren’t around, but tonight could very well put a nail in the coffin that was once your social position.” Not bothering to wait to hear his reply, Millie marched from the room and disappeared, loud mutters about disasters trailing after her.
17
Forgive me for complaining,” Lucetta began as she limped across the side terrace of Seaview and plopped down on a stone bench before sending a glare Millie’s way. “But why in the world did you insist on being let off clear at the end of the drive, instead of allowing Davis to drive us up to the front door?”
“Because all of Everett’s friends were gathered in that long receiving line, and I thought it might be for the best if we avoided a scene before the ball even began.” Millie glanced around the terrace. “I do think this will do very nicely this evening, especially since the weather seems to be holding.”
Lucetta completely ignored the last part of Millie’s statement. “You and I are wearing heels and Everett’s drive is remarkably long. My feet are killing me, as I’m sure yours are as well.”
“My shoes are in my reticule, along with my stockings, so my feet are feeling very well indeed.”
“Good heavens, I didn’t even realize you consider that bag you have slung over your neck a reticule. I thought you’d brought it along because it has things for the children stuffed inside it, but . . . it hardly compliments your outfit.”
Millie patted the bag that was hanging low on her hip. “While it’s quite clear you find my nonexistent sense of fashion appalling, I’m a nanny, which means ugly and large bags are something I cannot live without. Of course I have items for the children stuffed inside, such as a few changes of clothing, toy soldiers, a doll, paper and pencils to write with, and rags in case someone suffers an accident. Besides, Abigail didn’t leave a fancy reticule out for me to use this evening, so I didn’t think it was required.”
“Pure negligence on her part, and do remind me to point out that negligence to her after I get the feeling back in my feet and am able to track her down.”
Swallowing a laugh, Millie moved across the terrace and set her bag down on the stone bench Lucetta was sitting on, bending down to rustle around the contents until she located her shoes and stockings. Sitting beside her friend, she took a second to roll the stockings up her legs. Slipping into the sparkly shoes that she secretly found completely enchanting, she rose to her feet and shook out her skirts. “There, I’m put together once again.”
Lucetta smiled. “You look lovely, even if you did forget the tiara Abigail left out for you to wear.”
“I didn’t forget.”
Lucetta grinned. “I didn’t really think so, and a tiara would have looked downright silly in your hair, darling, especially with those lovely sprigs of flowers we added. As it stands now, you look exactly like a fairy princess, but a princess of the woods, something that suits you to perfection.”
Glancing to the house, Millie caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the windows. Staring back at her was a slip of a lady, wearing a lovely gown of soft blue that reminded Millie of how the ocean looked around Newport when it was at its calmest. It was beautifully crafted, with lace framing the square neckline of the gown, a neckline that wasn’t overly modest, yet modest enough to not draw attention to charms Millie didn’t possess in any abundance.
Pulling her attention away from her reflection, she settled it on Lucetta, shaking her head as she looked her friend over. “It really is a shame you and I have decided to limit ourselves to the terrace this evening. We’re looking remarkably well turned out, if I do say so myself. Poor Abigail’s efforts to see us looking spit-spot are sadly wasted.”
“I’d love to be able to claim I’m disappointed about that, but . . . hmm . . .” Lucetta said as three little bodies came flying around the corner of the house, bodies that belonged to Elizabeth, Thaddeus, and Rose.
“Where have you been?” Elizabeth demanded as she skidded to a stop right in front of Millie, looking completely adorable in a white dress of lace adorned with bows, the purple ribbon in her hair exactly matching those bows. “We’ve been searching every terrace for what seems like forever, and we were starting to get worried the two of you went back to Abigail’s.”
“Millie felt the need to stroll up the drive instead of being let off at the door,” Lucetta said as she scooped little Rose up into her arms and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “We would never leave the three of you here alone to deal with all this madness.”
Thaddeus nodded. “It is madness, Miss Lucetta, and it was strange, walking into Uncle Everett’s house and . . . Miss Dixon acting like we were guests.”
“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have you three get ready over at Abigail’s,” Millie said slowly.
“It was a good idea,” Rose argued as Lucetta set her back on her feet. “I heard Grandmother Dorothy talking to Miss Abigail in the receiving line, and she said Miss Dixon and Uncle Everett got into a big fight when he got back to Seaview.”
“Caroline must have gotten wind of what happened in the Reading Room,” Lucetta mumbled.
“I knew word about that would travel fast,” Millie said before she frowned at Elizabeth. “But speaking of the receiving line, why aren’t the three of you still there? I thought that was the plan. Abigail was supposed to escort you into the house, and then the three of you were supposed to stand with Everett and greet the guests.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Miss Dixon didn’t want us to join them. She shooed us away after we said hello, but there’s no need to look angry about that, Miss Millie. It’s not fun to have to stand still for so long, and we really just wanted to come find you and Miss Lucetta.”
Pushing aside the anger that had begun to bubble up inside her, Millie summoned up a smile. “And Lucetta and I are completely delighted about that, since I’m sure we would have begun getting rather lonely out here.”
Elizabeth, for some reason, took to looking a little shifty. “Now that we’ve found the two of you, we need you to come with us into the cottage. We didn’t get a chance to greet many people, and you’ve told us before that we shouldn’t forget our manners.”
“While it is true that manners are incredibly important, darling, I’m afraid I can’t come with you into the cottage. This is Caroline’s night, and it wouldn’t be fair to her to do something that I know will annoy her.”
“But . . . she’s clinging to Uncle Everett’s arm like he’s the best gentleman in the whole world, and that means they’ve made up from their fight. And she’s dripping in jewels, wearing a gown that’s very lovely, and . . . what if Uncle Everett goes ahead and does something . . . awful?”
“Like ask Miss Dixon to marry him,” Thaddeus whispered. “We don’t want that to happen.”
Millie’s heart gave an uncomfortable lurch she tried her best to ignore. “Your uncle is a grown man, children. If he decides he wants to marry Miss Dixon, I’m certainly not the lady who is going to be able to change his mind.”
“If he sees you looking like that, you might be,” Rose argued. “You look just like a fairy princess tonight, and Uncle Everett likes you, Miss Millie . . . likes you a lot . . . and we’d really rather have you as our aunt than Miss Dixon.”
The sight of the three sets of eyes gazing at her so hopefully had Millie
smiling even as she shook her head. “I’m just the nanny, children, and that means I’m the least-suitable woman on the planet for your uncle.”
Elizabeth plunked her hands on her slim hips. “But . . . he likes you and . . . you like him.”
“Your uncle and I have become friends of a sort, but . . .”
“She’ll send us away to boarding school,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Did someone mention something about boarding school?”
Spinning on her sparkly heel, Millie discovered Caroline standing on the edge of the terrace, and couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been standing there. “Miss Dixon, don’t you look lovely tonight?” she forced out of her mouth.
Fluttering a jeweled fan in front of her face, Caroline inclined her head, a head that had a huge tiara attached to it, one that seemed to match the diamond stomacher that was placed over her bosom, and matched the five strands of diamonds strung around her throat.
“Thank you, Miss Longfellow. I do believe I look rather nice indeed, as do you. Although I must admit I’m a little confused as to why you’re wearing . . . a ball gown. Surely you weren’t expecting me to invite you to enjoy the ball, were you?”
“I think we both know I would never expect that, Miss Dixon—which is why I’m spending my evening on the terrace. As for why I’m wearing this particular gown, well . . . Abigail purchased it for me, and the children thought it would be great fun if Lucetta and I dressed up, so . . .”
Caroline stiffened and swung her attention to Lucetta. “I wasn’t aware you were coming tonight, Miss Plum.”
“Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else, but . . . Everett insisted I attend, and it would have been churlish to refuse his kind offer.”
“My Everett certainly can be kind when he sets his mind to it. Misguided, but . . .” Caroline drew in a deep breath, slowly released it, and then smiled. “Well, no matter, the two of you are here, and it would be churlish of me to insist you leave. However, I’ve come to fetch the children, to introduce them around, so you, Miss Longfellow, will be expected to accompany us, walking the required three feet behind me, of course.”
Millie frowned. “Why didn’t you simply introduce the children in the receiving line, like everyone expected you to do?”
Caroline waved the question aside with a flick of her fan. “Surely you, Miss Longfellow, being such an esteemed member of your profession, know that children are highly unlikely to behave properly if they’re made to stand still for too long. I, being a rather magnanimous sort, excused them from such a dreary obligation. But now it’s time for them to put adorable smiles on those three little faces and allow me to show them off properly.”
“We’re not pets,” Elizabeth muttered.
“That’s debatable, but . . .” Caroline moved closer to the children and looked them up and down. “All of you, surprisingly enough, turned out very nicely this evening. Why, those dresses, with all their frills and lace, are too precious, and . . . look at you, darling Thaddeus, wearing pants, and well-tailored pants at that.” She smiled again. “You’ll do me and your uncle proud this evening, and if you behave, I’ll give you a wonderful surprise at the end of the ball.”
“What kind of surprise?” Rose asked.
“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, Rosetta.”
Rose immediately turned stubborn. “My name is Rose.”
“It’s not. Rose is a common, nasty name, so you’ll go by Rosetta, thank you very much. Now, take my hand. You may take my other one, Elizabeth, and you, Thaddeus, may walk beside your twin.”
“I want to hold Miss Millie’s hand,” Thaddeus argued.
“That would not be proper, dear. Miss Longfellow, not Miss Millie, is the nanny, so she does not get to have the honor of holding your hand, especially since I expect her to trail after us.”
“I’ll trail with her,” Lucetta said, stepping up to Millie.
“I don’t recall inviting you to join us, Miss Plum.”
Lucetta drew herself up, and right there and then, in a blink of an eye, she turned . . . haughty. “Surely you must realize that I’m not the type of woman who waits to be invited for anything, Miss Dixon.”
For a second, Millie thought Caroline was going to argue, but she looked at Lucetta for a long moment, seemed to realize she’d met her match, and shrugged. “Fine, but make certain the two of you stay three feet behind me.”
Lucetta dipped into a cheeky curtsy. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Not bothering to address the cheek, Caroline folded up her fan, grabbed hold of Elizabeth and Rose’s hands, and without speaking another word, stalked for the house.
“Do you remember when Everett offered to purchase me something for my assistance and I refused his offer?” Lucetta asked, twining her arm with Millie’s.
“Changed your mind about that, have you?”
Lucetta grinned. “I have indeed, and I think we might just have to ask him for an added bonus for you as well.” Her grin widened. “That diamond collar Caroline’s wearing is nice. Perhaps we’ll insist Everett buy us two of those.”
“I highly doubt I’ll ever be invited to an event that requires something so fancy.”
“Good point, but stop frowning, dear. People are beginning to take note of us.”
Glancing to Lucetta out of the corner of her eye, Millie found her friend had changed from haughty to aloof, although her eyes were sparkling and her lips were curled rather intriguingly right at the corners, lending her a most mysterious air. “How do you do that?”
“Years and years of practice, but . . . smile.”
Summoning up a smile, even though her lips had turned remarkably stiff, Millie held fast to Lucetta’s arm as they traveled down a hallway—the requested three feet of space being carefully maintained—and into the ballroom. Pretending not to notice everyone staring her way, Millie kept her gaze on the children. Pride flowed through her when they used proper manners with everyone Caroline introduced them to, leaving quite a few guests smiling fondly after them when they moved on to meet other people.
“Everett’s over by that wall,” Lucetta whispered with a nod to the left.
Pulling her attention away from Thaddeus, who seemed to be telling a well-dressed lady all about his tin soldiers, Millie suddenly felt her stomach clench when her gaze settled on Everett.
He was looking . . . well, certainly not dashing considering the state of his bruised face, but he was laughing at something a young lady was saying to him and then nodding appreciatively at a gentleman who spoke to him next.
“He doesn’t seem to be suffering any lasting effects from those brawls. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself, and no one seems to be giving him the cut direct,” she said.
Lucetta squeezed her arm. “I never imagined anyone would cut him, Millie.” She waved a hand in the air. “Look around. We’re right smack in the midst of proof of exactly how large the Mulberry fortune is, something no guest here, I assure you, has neglected to notice. The decorations alone had to have cost a sizeable fortune, and you can smell the tempting aroma of dishes that I’m going to assume will be extraordinary.”
Taking a moment to look around her surroundings, Millie found that Lucetta was exactly right. Gold tulle was strung from the ceilings, sparkling with what she hoped weren’t real diamonds, and exotic hothouse flowers were spread all over the room, their delicate scent mixing with that of the delicious food Lucetta had mentioned. Chandeliers sparkled, and crystal was everywhere, while members of the staff Miss Pickenpaugh had brought in served glasses of champagne off of silver trays. Fountains were tinkling from every corner of the room, and an entire orchestra was set up on the far side, the members of that orchestra formally dressed and even now beginning to tune up their instruments.
She’d never felt more out of place or more inconsequential.
This was Everett’s true world, filled with sparkling people, sparkling surroundings, and sparkling conversation.
&nb
sp; She was simply an orphan who came from poor parents and never had anything sparkling to say, unless it revolved around children.
“Millie, are you all right?”
“Of course I am,” she finally managed to whisper.
Taking a very firm grip on her arm, Lucetta pulled Millie up to Caroline, who immediately bristled. “What happened to the three feet?” Caroline hissed under her breath.
“Millie isn’t feeling well, so I’m taking her back to the terrace.” Lucetta nodded to the children. “You may stay here, but when Miss Dixon is done with you, go to your Uncle Everett or come back to us. We’ll be just outside.”
“Millie, Lucetta, there you are.”
Drawing in a steadying breath, Millie soon found herself being given an enthusiastic hug by Abigail, right before Dorothy replaced Abigail and gave her a good hard squeeze.
“You look absolutely breathtaking, my dear, as do you, Lucetta,” Dorothy said with a smile.
“They neglected to wear their tiaras,” Abigail grumbled.
“You expected them to wear tiaras?” Caroline’s face began to darken. “That is . . .”
“I was just about to take Millie outside,” Lucetta interrupted. “I think the closeness of this room has made her a little light-headed, so if you’ll excuse us . . . ?”
Without bothering to wait for anyone to reply, Lucetta spun around with Millie still attached to her arm and began strolling ever so casually through the crowd, although she somehow managed the stroll at a rather rapid rate of speed. Pulling Millie through the door, she hustled her back to their obscure terrace and pushed her down on the stone bench. “What happened?”
Tears blinded Millie for a second before she dashed them away. “I’ve been so silly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I tried to pretend otherwise, but deep down I thought there was a chance . . .”
“For you and Everett?”
Millie waved a hand rather helplessly in the air. “I told you—I’ve been silly. It’s just that he’s been so . . .”