At that moment, Marcus looked up. His eyes met Milli’s. Her breath caught, and she instantly shifted her gaze to the other side of the room. She hadn’t seen much of him the last few days and that was fine with her. She was furious. How dare he pretend to have a fondness for her in order to draw in more gentlemen.
She would show him she was immune to him, even his kisses. She certainly did not need him as a decoy for her suitors.
She had begun the husband hunting plan for Jane, to keep the lady busy, but the entire Bath plan had seemed to backfire, making the duchess’s relationship with Roderick worse, and Milli’s situation more complicated than she ever wanted.
She frowned, wishing she could back out of her plan to find a husband. But if she recalled, it was Marcus who had started all this.
“Oh, dearest,” Jane said, her eyes lighting up. “Do forgive me. I see Captain Argyle. And there is something I must ask him.”
Milli nodded, her smile not quite meeting her eyes as Jane went off to speak to the captain. A few feet away, Milli saw Roderick’s menacing scowl. The duke muttered a curse as he approached the couple.
Milli’s stomach knotted. She hoped the duke didn’t strike the captain.
“It seems you have many admirers,” Lizzie said, coming up to Milli. “There were many gentlemen talking to Stephen about you.”
Milli kept her narrowed gaze attached to the duke and duchess. “I daresay I am rethinking this plan. I did not think it would cause so many complications.”
Her sister frowned, looking in the same direction. The small orchestra played softly in the background. “It has nothing to do with you. This is something they must figure out for themselves.”
Milli felt tears of frustration fill her eyes. “But they were so happy, Lizzie. Of all the people in the world, I never thought they would have . . . problems like this.”
“They still love each other.”
Milli watched as the duke’s glare turned black as midnight. “Do they?”
“Of course, they do. But you must keep up your spirits. Let this ball be for Jane too. She needs all of us right now.”
“Drat and double drat, I wish we were still in London and none of this ever happened.”
Lizzie chuckled. “Now, now, this is your time to find your husband. Knightengale has the next dance, and then Valford, Breadford and Bennington. Which one of them do you favor?”
Milli grinned, despite the underlying tension between the duke and duchess. “I like them all. But I am not in love. Is that not terrible?”
Lizzie’s tender gaze flew to her husband. “One day, you will find your prince. Have no worries about that. Pray about it. Make wise decisions, and he will be there when you least expect it.”
Milli’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ah, like a knight on a white horse?”
Lizzie chuckled. “Ha, don’t expect the white horse or the knight suit. Stephen tried that and fell flat on his face. In the mud, I might add.”
Milli felt her heart warm as she thought about her brother-in-law’s fight for Lizzie’s hand. “I still have Fennington’s quizzing glass, and Marcus hates that thing.”
Lizzie gasped in horror. “Oh, Milli! No? Stephen hates that quizzing glass! It reminds him of—”
“I know. It reminds him of your past,” Milli said playfully. “But it makes Marcus livid. And I think this is a horrid plan he has devised.”
“I don’t understand it either. But Stephen thinks it grand. Men. I don’t think I will ever understand them.” Lizzie’s gaze drifted across the room. “Oh, and speaking of men, Lord Hughmont doesn’t look too happy. He is sending a glare this way as I speak. I hope you have saved a dance for him.”
Milli rolled her eyes in exasperation. “This is the silliest thing I have ever done. Searching for a husband is ridiculous.”
Her sister looked confused. “But I thought you wanted this?”
“I only wanted to help Jane out of the doldrums. This seemed like a good plan.”
“Oh, Milli, how could you?”
Milli flushed. “Well, I wanted to see her happy. I know. I know. It was a stupid plan. I never thought it would turn into such a web of problems. One thing just kept leading to another thing, and another, and another.”
Lizzie shifted her worried gaze toward Jane. “I know you meant well.”
Milli frowned. “Look at her. She’s miserable. I think—”
A tall shadow hovered over them, halting her speech.
“Ah, Miss Millicent, I believe this is our dance.”
Milli looked up at Lord Knightengale and smiled. “Lizzie, if you would excuse us?”
“Of course, my dear.”
The music was soft and magical as Knightengale twirled her around the ballroom. He smelled of cigars and mints. It was an interesting scent, Milli thought. But the man was holding her a bit closer than she wanted.
“I feel you are taking advantage of me, sir,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a warning.
His bright smile beamed her way. “Don’t be coy, Miss Millicent. You are so very little, and I am so very big. I vow it is hard to get any closer to you unless I place you on my feet as we dance.”
Milli snickered in delight. “How gallant of you, sir.”
After a few minutes, they finished the waltz, laughing with one another. He was as blunt as she, and he seemed to truly care about her.
Another hour passed as Milli danced sets with Bennington, Breadford, and Valford. They were all delightful gentlemen, and Valford had even spoken about the monthly theater meeting, hoping he could play Romeo,
“And you could play Juliet,” he had said eagerly.
Milli couldn’t help but grin at the gentleman. He was the most shy of all her suitors, but there was something quite sweet about the little man. “Do I dare ask? Are you hoping for a kiss, Lord Valford?”
The man reddened. “Well, uh . . .”
She looked over his shoulder, her lips quivering with amusement. His slightness didn’t bother her at all. He complemented her delicate form. But he didn’t affect her the way Marcus did. There was no tingling in the pit of her stomach, no butterflies, no racing heart. Just a calmness as one would have with a friend.
Lord Hughmont was beside her as soon as she finished her set with Valford. “I thought you promised me the first waltz,” he stated.
Milli frowned. Why was Hughmont so upset? “I don’t recall any such thing.”
Without warning, he took her arm. “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
“Oh, please. Not Hamlet tonight, sir.”
The man’s face fell. “Oh, very well. Would you like to take a turn in the gardens then? I have some information about that other play we were talking about.”
Milli was about to shrug out of Hughmont’s grasp when she caught sight of Marcus watching her. His eyes narrowed as he started toward them. There was a glint of danger in the man’s gaze that made Milli reckless.
“I would be delighted,” she said, turning and giving Hughmont her best smile. Marcus could do nothing here. A turn in the garden with other men seemed to irritate him. Why not give him a lesson in love. Bath was no different than London.
“Millicent, I believe this is our dance.”
Milli glanced over her shoulder and stammered. How had Marcus approached them so quickly? “Ah, I don’t think—”
Lord Hughmont was tugging on her other arm.
Marcus glared at the man. “This is my dance,” he said, the menace in his tone as hard as steel. “And I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”
Hughmont’s lips thinned as he dropped Milli’s arm. “I have no wish to start a scene.” He nodded to her. “Until later, my dear.”
Milli glowered at Marcus, her face turning red. “It is not your dance.”
But it was too late. Marcus had pulled her onto the floor. It was another waltz, and all eyes were upon them.
“Why did you do that?” she hissed.
He pulled he
r close, wrapping a firm hand about her waist. “I am vying for your attention, my dear.”
Her heart lurched at his boldness. He was playing the part of the eager suitor.
A flutter of voices from a group of older ladies a few feet away drifted to her ear. “My, my, don’t they make an attractive couple.”
Milli felt her cheeks color. “You are making a scene,” she muttered, wishing she could deny this man.
He flashed her a set of white teeth and pulled her closer. “That is the point, is it not?”
Before she could reply, he swung her around the dance floor as if they were walking on air. She broke into a laugh, not able to hold a grudge. “You are . . . a rascal, Lord Marcus Clearbrook.”
The amusement in his silver eyes softened the harshness in his face. Something seemed to change between them. She wasn’t sure, but a tiny flame of hope ignited in her heart. She shouldn’t do this, she told herself. He would only hurt her again.
Before she could decide what to do, he pressed a warm hand against her back, turning her. “Now, let me take you into the gardens.”
His gentle whisper singed her senses. His hold on her tightened in such a tender way, she wanted to cry. He had her in the palm of his hand, and she didn’t care. She wanted to be near him, smell the muskiness of him, feel the strength of him, hear the velvety sound of his voice as he spoke to her now. She was hopeless.
He caressed her with his eyes. Whatever spell he was weaving was working. She shoved her concerns about his past behavior to the back of her mind. She was in heaven with the man she loved, if only for a few minutes.
The jolt of his warm hand slipping to hers, burned through her gloves. With the finesse of an expert, he directed her out the doors and into the gardens. Music drifted in the air, and she felt herself floating on a cloud.
Moonlight barely peeked through the trees as he guided her down the paved stone trail. He entered the low maze of evergreens, as if he knew the turns by heart. The fresh clean scent of trees reached her nostrils, making her more aware of her setting. Unexpectedly, he stopped and whirled her around to face him.
“Marcus?” she whispered, wondering where this was going to lead.
“Milli.” He pulled her toward him. She felt the brush of his thigh against hers. Her heart reeled at his touch.
His finger traced her bottom lip, spinning her senses. “So very beautiful,” he said, his voice husky.
She breathed in the aroma of his cologne. He was so close. Her entire body trembled. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. At that moment, he was everything to her. Call her a fool, but she wanted this. Dreamed of this.
He dropped his lips to her neck, sending shivers of delight down her spine.
“Marcus.” She pressed her hands against his powerful chest, feeling the beating of his heart.
He moved his mouth to her cheek, then to her lips, capturing them in a mind numbing kiss, sending her to heaven and back. He tasted like a fine brandy, smooth and gentle. Desire shot through her, causing her knees to buckle. Eventually, she fell limp in his arms, burying her face in his neck, almost too shocked to speak.
He was breathing heavily and said nothing.
She finally looked up. Feeling bold, she caressed his cheek.
With an oath, he scooped her off the ground. “Confound it, woman. When you touch me like that, I lose all sense of—”
“Miss Millicent,” Lord Knightengale called, his deep voice sounding near.
Marcus muttered a curse and dropped her feet to the ground.
Milli swallowed hard as her eyes clung to his. Raw desire swirled between them
The sound of footsteps drew nearer. Marcus spun on his heels, protecting her from the intruder.
“Knightengale,” Marcus said, his voice harsh. “Catching a breath of fresh air? Or kissing the ladies?”
Milli couldn’t help but peek around Marcus. The huge man’s face twisted with rage as he swung his gaze toward Milli’s flushed features.
Milli patted back a curl and swallowed past a sickening taste creeping into her mouth. Was Marcus using her to inflame her suitors? Was that why he had taken her to the gardens? He had said as much when they were dancing. What a fool she had been.
Had Knightengale been listening? She was mortified.
Knightengale’s glittering gaze pierced the darkness, but he said nothing about her disheveled appearance. “I’ve come to take Miss Millicent to supper,” he said to Marcus, his tone as calm as a summer breeze. “What say you, Miss Millicent?” Knightengale put out his arm for her.
Milli dropped her gaze and adjusted her sleeve. She was waiting for Marcus to intervene, but he said nothing. With a broken heart, she worked past the turmoil in her heart, looked up and smiled. “I, um, would be—”
“Miss Millicent!” Suddenly Lord Hughmont appeared around the bend. He glanced at her and grimaced. She was glad the moon wasn’t in full brightness tonight. Though she could detect his facial expression, she couldn’t help but be thankful the light was dim. She lifted a hand to another stray lock and frowned.
An embarrassing heat shot through her as Hughmont threw an accusing glance toward the two towering men.
Milli felt the blood drain out of her. He could tell she had been thoroughly kissed. She wanted to run away and hide. “I, um—”
“She needed to fix her hair,” Marcus put in. He bent down and picked up a few of her pins that had fallen to the ground. Within seconds, he had pinned her hair back in order.
Milli felt cold and lifeless. Three men were vying for her attention, and one of them, the one she really wanted, was only pretending.
A wave of nausea swept through her. She wanted her Papa. She wanted Lizzie. She wanted to leave as swiftly as possible.
“I don’t feel so well.” She put a hand to her head and staggered.
With an oath, Marcus pulled her into his arms.
Knightengale came forward. “Here, let me take her.”
Hughmont jostled for position. “We are almost engaged. It is my right—”
Marcus glared at the men. “I have her, gentlemen. Make way. I will take her up the back way.”
“I say,” Hughmont argued. “Don’t think that is quite proper, Clearbrook.”
Knightengale glared at Marcus. “You haven’t been interested in her before, why now?”
“I am family. You are not. Now, make way. Or do I have to plow you down?”
Marcus’s hold on Milli tightened. But she didn’t care. I am family. So, that was how he thought of her.
An ache swelled in her chest. She wanted to cry. She thought faking her swoon, would make them leave her alone and fetch Lizzie. She wasn’t thinking at all. She should have run from all three of them. Marcus’s kiss had addled her senses. If she were a man, she would box their ears!
Before they could say another word, Marcus whirled around and hastened up the back stairs with Milli in his arms.
She kept her eyes closed, feeling the beating of his heart against his ears. Grief overwhelmed her. Oh, Marcus. You are a fool! I could have loved you forever.
Marcus kicked open her bedchamber door and plopped her onto her bed.
She gasped at the drop.
He looked down at her, his eyes like chips of ice. “Which one do you favor?”
“Well,” she said, scooting back and grabbing a pillow. “It certainly isn’t you!”
His eyes slid over her. “Your actress abilities need a bit more practice, little girl. If you want to swoon, make it dramatic, then the gentlemen will do anything you want. Ask my sister Emily if you need lessons.”
She threw her pillow at him. “Lessons?” she shrieked. “I have had enough of your lessons to last a lifetime. Don’t you dare try your lessons on me again.”
He caught the pillow and threw it back onto the bed.
A screech pierced their ears.
Milli frowned. “Look at that! You hit Cleo!”
Marcus glowered at the white and black cat slinking toward
Milli. “That cat has hated me since you’ve had it. I don’t like it.”
Milli lifted her chin. “Well, la di da. I do.” She put the fluffy feline in front of her while it pawed at Marcus. She smiled wickedly. “Cleo will protect me now. You can leave.”
He growled. “I recall that feline ruined my best jacket.”
“My, my, you do hold a grudge. That was four years ago. Before Lizzie married Stephen.”
His silver eyes blazed down on her, and she realized she was pushing her luck. Even Cleo seemed to shudder. The next second, her cat jumped from her arms and slipped under the bed.
Marcus’s lips curled into an unfriendly smile. “Protector?”
Milli squirmed. “You scared her. I don’t like people scaring my cat, and I certainly don’t like taking any more lessons from you!”
He leaned over her. She leaned back. His arms straddled her head. “I will do anything I blasted well please.”
Her skin tingled from the very breath of him, but she refused to cower. She glared back, daring him to do his worst.
His eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Perhaps another lesson would help? It looks as if Hughmont wanted to have part of the action. Knightengale was seething. I wonder which one will ask for your hand. Maybe both?”
Milli swatted him with another pillow. “You swine!”
He shot her a hard smile and stepped away, his eyes locking with hers. “Gather yourself and be downstairs in ten minutes, or I will come looking. Jane has enough to worry about without you missing in action again. This is not going to be like the last ball you attended.”
She flushed. “I hope you know I hate you.”
He chuckled and turned on his heels. “Ah, if that is how you kiss when you hate someone, I wonder how you kiss when you love them.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But have a care. Some men cannot control their feelings, and a little teasing can push a man only so far until he breaks.”
Milli watched in silence as he left, wondering if he was talking about himself or some other man.
Cleo decided to come out from her hiding place and jump onto the bed.
The Mischievous Bride (The Clearbrooks) Page 17