by Wendy Vella
“I could simply leave,” she said quickly. “I have no need of sleep.”
Moving to her side, he saw the yawn she was struggling to hide. It nearly displaced her jaw.
“You could try, but then the gentleman in me would be forced to follow you and bring you back, and as my patience and humor are sorely tested, I would not advise it.”
“But I have no wish to impose.”
Her wish to leave him again stemmed from fear of exposure. Joseph knew that, but cared little about it. She was not going anywhere this time, until he was ready for her to do so.
“Enough, Milly, I beg of you. You will sleep where you are put, or stare at the ceiling, I care neither way, but please do not say another word. Now follow Bailey, who will get you settled.”
When Joseph used that particular tone, it was not often anyone questioned him, however Milly opened her mouth to do just that. Mugwort chose that moment to reappear, trotting in through the front door as if she owned the place, with Horace and Virgil on her heels.
“It would not be fair on your little creature’s legs to have to walk so far again this night.”
She wavered and then capitulated.
“I thank you for all you have done for me this night, my lord. And if I rise before you, I shall be on my way, therefore this will be goodbye.”
“You won’t, as I have business in Spindle, and will see you to the Wimplestows personally.” If he decided to keep an eye on her now, her position at the Wimplestows would provide him with that opportunity. If not, she would be safe with that family. Not that he cared about that either.
“As you wish, my lord. Please allow me to thank you for your kindness this night. I would have been walking for some time had you not appeared when you did.”
“Very nicely said, even if it was through gritted teeth.”
She did not speak again, instead slipping into a curtsy then following Bailey to the stairs, Mugwort at her heels. He watched his ex-fiancée until she disappeared, hardly believing she was here where once he had longed for her to be.
Perfidious little witch.
“Please make sure Miss Higglesworth does not leave this property before I rise,” Bailey.”
Joseph was sitting in the large chair before the fire in his bedroom. He had washed and was now wrapped in his robe. His toes were tingling as they thawed out, and he was finally warm and comfortable.
“Of course, my lord.”
“Watch her, Bailey. I have no doubt she will attempt to sneak out if the chance presents itself, and I would be displeased were she to do so.”
His butler did not blink at the request, as any good butler should not.
“I will set Colin the task, my lord. He can dust the walls and paintings in the hall, thereby detecting if she attempts to leaves.”
“Would a maid not be a better prospect for dusting walls?”
“Colin is the soul of discretion, my lord.”
“Perfect. I’m sure my footman will enjoy dusting the walls in that case.” Picking up the steaming cup of warmed milk with brandy, Joseph took a deep swallow, enjoying the heat as it burned down his throat.
“I apologize for waking you, Bailey.”
The surprise on his butler’s face made Joseph realize he had not apologized for that inconvenience before today.
“No apology needed, my lord.”
“And is everything in place for the arrival of my brothers?”
His cook made the best fruit cake in England. Taking a large bite, he tasted currents and cinnamon.
“Well as to that, my lord, we do have a slight problem.”
Bailey was new to his employ, his last butler having retired to a nice little cottage Joseph had purchased for him. This man was ruthlessly efficient, and ran Greyton with military precision, so when he said there was a slight problem, it was actually a bloody gargantuan one.
“The housekeeper, Mrs. Honey, fell down the stairs, my lord, yesterday.”
“Dear God, is she all right?”
“She has had her ankle set, my lord, by Dr. Bernard. However, she is of course bedridden, with many bruises and an inability to move.”
Joseph could see how that was a problem. “And suddenly we are about to be descended upon by my unruly family, with no housekeeper to run things.”
“Two extra gentlemen should not be taxing, my lord.”
Bailey was not old, in fact he was about Joseph’s age. However, he had won over the staff with his steady demeanor and obvious organizational skills. He had thick black hair, piercing gray eyes, and a small, wiry body. He had more the look of a scholar than a butler.
“I have put word about in the village and surrounding areas, my lord. I have also sent word to London to the agency to send someone with expediency, and we should receive a replacement any day.”
“Is there no one within the staff to cover the position, Bailey?” Joseph took another sip of his milk. Had Millicent not left him, she would have dealt with this.
“Mrs. Puddle often helps out, my lord, but she is away visiting her daughter.”
“Is that really her name?”
Bailey unbent enough to offer a small smile.
“Indeed it is, my lord.”
“Well, keep me apprised of matters.”
“I will, and good night, my lord.”
“Good night, Bailey.”
When the door had closed, Joseph finished his supper in silence, and then took off his robe and slipped between the sheets. Lying in the dark, staring at the fire, he wondered again where Millicent Lawrence had been since last he’d seen her that day in the cemetery. What journey had she taken to end up on that road this morning?
That she vastly differed from the young society miss he had pledged his love to was obvious. Life had played its hand in changing her, as it had him. Life and circumstance, and shallow bastard that he was, the thought that rose above all others, was how she had walked away from him.
What did her father beg her forgiveness for?
He would have no answer to this question tonight, so Joseph tried to push the thoughts aside. Tomorrow he would need to be alert and composed when he saw Lady Millicent Lawrence once more. Not an easy task when faced with the woman who had broken his heart.
Chapter Five
Opening her eyes, Milly placed a hand beside her but could not feel the soft head of Daisy, nor could she hear the gentle snores the little dog made. Two months they had been together, and Milly had grown fond of the animal.
Looking around the room, she knew it was morning even though the curtains were pulled to shut out the light. She felt rested after only a few hours’ sleep. For the first time in a long while, she had slept deeply and dreamlessly, despite whose house she slumbered in. Pulling back the covers, she walked across the carpet and drew the curtains open.
The house was on a rise, and below them swept a valley and pasture for many miles. Beneath her window was a series of paths with hedges, and she saw a ribbon of water that wound its way for many miles.
“Once, I would have been mistress here.” Her words formed a small circle on the glass as she pressed her face to it. It would have been a magical place to live, her life pampered and her every wish granted. Would she have had a child by now? The thought made her sad. Milly had always wanted children. Being the only child of the Marquess of Lawrence had been lonely, and she’d vowed to one day have a family of her own. That family should have been with Joseph.
Her eyes followed the flurries of snow falling, as thoughts filtered through her head. Leaning on the windowsill, she studied everything her eye could see. It was a beautiful, unending vista. She saw plumes of smoke in the distance, and on closer inspection detected several small cottages. That was surely the village of Stonleigh, her destination. From there she would get transportation to Spindle. With one last look, she turned away. It was time to leave now.
She was not entirely sure she wanted to ever again be the person she had once been. Some aspects she would enjoy
; the steady supply of food, sleep, and warmth, but she would no longer enjoy being idle, or spending her days doing what proper ladies aught—well, according to her father anyway. Of course, her one true regret would always be leaving Joseph. She’d loved him, as he had loved her. But to play the part of empty-headed Lady Millicent for the remainder of her life no longer held any appeal.
Their love, she had come to realize, had not been real, but a fairy tale. A love that could not have endured, because she had held back part of herself to be the woman he had wanted.
Of course, none of that mattered anymore. Her sole focus now was to avoid Joseph, and get to the Wimplestows, because surely in the light of day he would recognize her?
The butler, Bailey, had shown her to this room last night. He had not questioned her right to be here, or the reasons for it, just left and then returned with food and washing water minutes later. Lord Ellsworth had said only he was awake, yet she doubted he had heated her water, or prepared the tray that had held a delicious wedge of cake and pot of tea, plus a small bowl of stew that Milly had given to Daisy. Servants, Milly had come to realize, had it hard, working from sunup to sundown with very little recompense.
Walking around the room, she let her hands trail down satin curtains, and over delicate, polished furniture. It was a room fit for any lady, and once she would have taken such a room for granted. Buttery cream walls softened the room. Bolder colors were picked out in the pillows and floor coverings. The rug that lay over the foot of the bed was thick and plush. Like the house it sat in, this room was a study of elegance and grace. Would her room have looked like this?
“Stop it,” she muttered, going to the washbasin. “This is not your life, nor ever will it be again.”
She washed, then tied the two padded pieces of material about her waist. They made her hips look bigger and acted as part of her disguise. Milly then stuffed her chemise to make her bosom look larger. Pulling on a dress, she looked in the mirror, and ran her hands down the cream skirts, trying to smooth the worst of the wrinkles. This was the best of her three dresses and it was showing signs of wear and tear around the seams and cuffs. Once it had been grand, a dress to stroll through Hyde Park in, or ride in a carriage, but no longer. She had lost so much weight, that even with the padding it hung on her. The blue-ribboned neckline was wrinkled and faded, and the bow looking worse for wear. Poking out a foot, she looked at the scuffed and worn toes of her boots. At least they kept her feet warm and dry.
Milly brushed her hair, then plaited it and twisted the entire length up on top of her head. She’d dyed it an ugly brown when she left London, and had continued to do so. Opening her mouth, she pushed two small rolls of cotton under her cheekbones. These padded her cheeks, and she’d been wearing them so long she had grown used to talking with them. She could sip tea and eat small mouthfuls of food, but she rarely ate anything too substantial when in company. She then pulled on her cloak and lace cap, and lastly her bonnet. Looking in the mirror, she knew no one would recognize her as the Lady Millicent who had once walked in society. Not even the man who had wanted her as his wife. Reassured, she slipped on her glasses, before picking up her bag. With a final look around the beautiful room, she then walked out and closed the door behind her.
“May I be of assistance, Miss Higglesworth?”
Milly looked at the tall, uniformed man who was cleaning the mirror down the end of the long hallway she was currently walking.
“Could you tell me the time, please?”
“Nine o’clock.”
Good Lord, she had never slept that late... well, not for many years, at least.
“I would like to find my dog, and then if you would, please furnish me with directions to the nearest village where I may procure transportation to the village of Spindle.”
“His lordship has requested that you join him in his study, Miss Higglesworth. If you will follow me, I shall take you directly to him.”
“There really is no need—”
“Colin,” the footman inserted.
“Colin,” Milly added. “I wish to find my dog and be on my way.”
“I believe Mugwort is with Lord Ellsworth in his study, Miss Higglesworth.”
“Daisy,” Milly said between clenched teeth. “Her name is Daisy, not Mugwort.”
Colin didn’t answer, just made his way slowly down the hallway with Milly at his heels. Milly had been in grand houses before, those of her parents’ friends, but this one was surely the most beautiful. She could almost imagine walking these halls with the earl at her side.
Stop it!
The carpets muted her footsteps, and she studied each painting they passed. The walls were duck-egg blue, with three gold stripes running down the center, and the ceiling darker blue with gilt edging. She saw rosewood furniture with intricately curved legs upon which sat delicate sculptures and gold-leafed candlesticks. Everywhere she looked, she saw beauty as befitted the Earl of Ellsworth’s home.
“I am sure a great deal of work goes into making this house beautiful. The staff are to be commended, Colin,” Milly said, wondering if Joseph had even noticed. She knew once, she would not have.
“Thank you, Miss Higglesworth.”
They turned right at the end of the hall and then reached a set of grand stairs. She descended behind Colin, her eyes going everywhere, taking in what she could, as she would never return here. They walked another hallway, before coming to a halt before a set of grand double doors. Colin knocked, and Milly took a deep breath.
“Enter,” Lord Ellsworth’s deep voice called. Colin opened it, and she was ushered inside. “Please have a tray brought, Colin.”
The room was large, and two of the walls paneled in dark wood. The others were in a deep burgundy. A male domain, Milly thought, looking about her instead of at the man seated behind the desk some distance away. This was the Earl of Ellsworth’s domain, as it had been those who came before him.
“Good morning, Miss Higglesworth.”
She dropped into a curtsy, and tried to calm the thud of her heart as Joseph rose and walked toward her. Unlike her, he was immaculate, with not a wrinkle in sight. A deep charcoal jacket fitted his wide shoulders perfectly, and his necktie and shirt were so white she blinked. His short hair was thick and the color of polished chestnuts. She searched his eyes, but saw no recognition. This was what she wanted. Indeed, why would he even think about her now after so long, after what she had done to him.
“I trust you slept well?”
He would suspect something if she addressed the rug, so she nodded and then looked at his right shoulder. She saw Daisy lying on her back, eyes closed in utter contentment as she snored happily before the fire. Beside her lay Virgil and Horace.
His eyes followed hers.
“I had one of my maids let her out of your room, and then after her brief run on the cold grass, she shared my breakfast then followed me in here.”
“It’s the food, of course. She will sell her soul for anything she can eat.”
Shut up, Milly. She always chattered when she was nervous... actually, what she was, was terrified. Making herself look back into the earl’s green eyes, she saw only polite enquiry. Her disguise was working; now she just needed to remember to keep lisping.
“Not my charm and winning personality, then. I had wondered.”
“My lord, I must once again thank you for last night,” Milly said quickly, before she lost the courage to speak. “You had no need to do what you did for me, a... a servant, and I thank you for it. I would possibly still be walking had you not arrived when you had.”
“As much as it pains you to say so,” he added.
“I beg your pardon?” Milly kept her voice pleasant; after all, he had helped her when she most needed it, then fed her and let her sleep in the softest bed she had slept in for many years.
“Somehow, I don’t think you like being indebted to anyone, Miss Higglesworth. I could hear it in your words.”
“I-I assure you my gr
atitude is sincere,” Milly said quickly.
“Do you need to wear your glasses for everyday activity, as well as reading?” He was inspecting her face, his eyes resting briefly on her glasses then moving to her padded cheeks.
Still she saw no spark of recognition in his eyes as she nodded, which allowed her to exhale the breath she was holding. Milly sometimes feared she did not know where the truth started and ended anymore, she had told so many tales.
“Come and sit before the fire while we await the tea tray. And perhaps as your departure is not imminent, you could remove you coat and bonnet.”
“I don’t think it is right for me to take tea here with you, Lord Ellsworth.” Milly dropped into a curtsy. “I shall leave at once.”
“When is Lord Wimplestow expecting you?”
“Today,” she lied. What was one more.
“Of course, then you must leave soon, but surely you have time to eat something beforehand, and as I have a tray coming, why not help me eat it.”
“My lord, I am a servant. ’Tis not right I do so.” Milly fell back on the upper-class English need for division between them and their staff. “I-I will make my way to your kitchens and have something there before leaving.”
“No, you will eat here with me.”
“Why?”
“I’m bored,” he said, reaching for her coat. “You can entertain me.”
“Pardon?” Milly couldn’t believe the man she had once known was speaking this way. He would never have wanted a servant to share his tea tray before, of that she was certain.
“Tell me of your life, Miss Higglesworth. What led you along the path to becoming a companion?”
She was thrown, there was no other word for it. Nothing came to mind as she stood there gaping at him.
“My question is surely not too taxing. After all, a governess who reads Virgil—”
“But I am a servant, my lord.”
“I think we’ve established that fact, thank you, Miss Higglesworth. Now, you have no need of your outer clothing in here, as the room is quite warm.”