by Wendy Vella
“My lady.”
Tall and well-built, Lord Thurston had a lovely smile, and hair the color of dried oak leaves. Not quite red, and not quite brown, but somewhere in between.
“It is a delight to meet you at last.”
“Thank you.”
The smile he gave her was genuine, and the one he turned on his wife loving. She felt a small twinge of jealousy that she would never receive smiles like that from the man she loved.
Milly had come to realize that she no longer wished to have someone control her or tell her what she could or could not do. Freedom was not something anyone really ever had, but there were degrees of it, she had come to understand. Small allotments of freedom, such as eating what she liked when she liked. Spending all day reading should she chose to, and travelling the country if the need struck. She’d never hoped to have this, but now she did, she had no wish to relinquish it.
They soon took their seats, and Milly wasn’t sure if it was by design or chance that she was seated beside Joseph.
“My family, and your aunt, think it would be best if we sat together, to show people that there is no ill will between us.” His breath brushed her cheek.
“Oh, yes, I had not thought of that.”
“Do you know, I think those cheek rolls enhanced your features.”
Milly actually spluttered at his words.
“No really, and the glasses, and mud-brown hair. It was a pleasing look. This”—he let his eyes roam from her face down to her slippers and back up again—“is not nearly as appealing.”
“Ha” was all she could manage, as the heat from his gaze was making her tingle all over.
“Very eloquent.”
“If you’ll remember, along with cursing, I now also add pig wrangling to my repertoire. I have had little time in the last few years to be eloquent.”
“I shall keep that in mind if I need my pigs wrangled.”
He was teasing her, and she felt that silly fluttering inside her that she once had. Looking forward, she reminded herself she no longer wanted that, or indeed him.
“Don’t look now, my lord, but every opera glass is now trained upon us,” Milly said, catching the glint of glasses.
“Shall we give them something to talk about, then?”
Before she could stop him, he had taken her hand and kissed the back.
“By jove, did you see that! The Duchess of Chantry just about fell out of her box!”
Milly hid her smile at Charles’s words.
She was exquisite, every inch perfection, and Joseph wanted to place his lips on the soft, sweet-smelling skin of her neck.
Milly had walked into his box, and he’d been spellbound. Her dress was colored somewhere between cream and apricot, the perfect complement to her blonde hair and lovely skin. It clung to the sweet curves of her body, and made his collar feel tight.
Her hair was piled high and the curls pinned into place. She wore a simple satin of small flowers the same color as her dress tied around her head, and the effect was stunning in its simplicity.
“You liked the opera four years ago. Do you still?”
She sat at his side, hands crossed in her lap, eyes forward. To anyone looking, she would appear relaxed, yet he knew her well enough to see that was not the case. Coming here was not easy for her. Being the center of attention had once been something she enjoyed, but he could see that was no longer the case.
“I am yet to determine that, my lord.”
He’d noticed that about her too; she no longer spoke in carrying tones.
“What entertainments did you enjoy while you were gone?” He would take any opportunity to find out what her life had been like.
“I once saw a travelling theatre company perform a terrible rendition of Twelfth Night in a field near the village of Dainty. I sat on my lump of hay with great expectation of an entertaining evening. Alas, it was not to be.”
She’d sat on a lump of hay while he’d sat in his box, here at the theatre. With a full belly and warm bed waiting for him. The thought made him angry.
“I hope it did not rain.” He managed to get out in a reasonable tone.
“No indeed, it was a clear night, if a little cold. But I must own that I have never enjoyed an experience more.”
He looked at her, but her eyes were facing forward.
“I believe you said it was a terrible rendition.”
She looked at him briefly, and he saw something pass across her face. Laughter, fear, or sadness, he could not discern what.
“Oh it was, but there is something special about sitting outside on a starlit night, eating roasted chestnuts with people whose only expectation in life is to rise in the morning healthy and whole.”
Joseph made himself look around the primped and pampered guests, and suddenly he knew exactly what she meant.
“We believe ours is a privileged life, and in many ways it is....”
“But in so many ways it is not,” she finished softly.
He did not answer as he did not know what to say. So instead he sat by her side in silence as the opera began.
She sat completely still and took everything in. It was as if this were her first visit. For Joseph’s part, he tried to not watch her, and for the most he succeeded.
When intermission came, his family rose, as did Milly.
“Come, we will walk,” Ellie said, taking her husband’s arm.
The others followed. Rory took Milly’s arm and Joseph her aunt’s.
“Thank you, my lord, for inviting us tonight. It will go a long way toward soothing her nerves about entering society.”
“She has no wish to do so, as I understand it, Lady Mowbray?”
“No, she has no time for society anymore. She will do so for me, but it no longer brings her the joy it once did.”
“She is different in many ways from the woman I once knew,” Joseph said, deciding he had no scruples about discussing Milly with her aunt if it yielded answers.
“Vastly different. I know she has furnished me with an abbreviated version of her reasons for leaving, as did her father. I also know nothing of the years she was gone, although there are times she appears like a caged animal. Restless and ready to run should the opportunity present itself.”
“It will take time,” Joseph said, watching Milly chat with his family.
“I’m not sure she will ever truly be settled. But it’s my hope that she will find a comfortable compromise.”
Joseph didn’t think there was ever going to be a time when he felt comfortable around Milly. She made him aware of her every move, her every word.
“Please excuse me for a moment, Lord Ellsworth, I see a friend who is signaling me.”
“Of course.” As Joseph watched Lady Mowbray walk away, his thoughts were on her niece.
“Lord Ellsworth, how wonderful to see you here this evening. What an extraordinary performance we are being treated to thus far.”
Joseph greeted Mrs. Gillies and her daughter.
“Indeed.”
His eyes found Milly now surrounded by a group of ladies. Rory, he noted, had been cornered by two men. Was she all right?
“My lord, do tell me how dear Lady Millicent is faring, now she is back in society? We did wonder... she has been gone so long, and the rumors, you know....”
“She has been unwell.”
“For four years? One wonders what illness could have taken so long.”
“She has been recuperating.” Joseph wasn’t sure why he was defending her, or why he cared what this woman or anyone thought about Milly, but he was... he did.
The woman made a little mewling sound that made Joseph’s teeth snap together.
“Well, perhaps your broken engagement is for the best then, my lord. Such weakness would surely carry to your heirs.”
“Excuse me. It is time to return to our seats.” He bowed, and walked away, uncaring that his words had been clipped and rude. He made his way to where Milly stood, and it was only as h
e drew near he realized that it was Lady Lyon and her daughter she spoke with.
“But four years, Lady Millicent. What illness could possibly have kept you from us for so long? Of course, it was for the best your betrothal was broken. A man like the earl cannot be expected to wait.”
He reached them as Milly answered.
“It was an illness of the brain, my lady. I was quite mad for some time. Yes indeed, I drooled and rocked for days on end. The doctors feared the worst, but as you can see there are no lasting effects... although, every now and then—”
“Excellent.” Joseph interrupted Milly before she could get into details of her illness. “I found you, my lady. Come, we must return, as the intermission is over,” Joseph said, taking Milly’s arm in his and leading her away from the now pale-faced Lyon women.
“Breathe,” he said, and was rewarded by a slow drawing in of air, which Milly then exhaled. He shot her a look as they approached his box. Her face was calm, impassive, but her hands were clenched into fists.
“What did she say to upset you?”
“It matters not.”
“It matters to me.”
She removed her hand from his arm and entered the box before him, leaving Joseph to follow and wonder what the hell was said to her that had drained the color from her cheeks and left her hands shaking.
Milly got through the performance by smiling. It was not easy, and by the end her cheeks were hurting. Joseph had sat quietly at her side, his gaze alternating between the performance and her. She had never looked his way once.
Eager to leave, she took her aunt’s arm when the curtain fell.
“Come, Aunt, I am not used to these late hours. We shall leave.”
“Of course.”
She said goodbye to everyone. Joseph was the last person, as he stood beside the door to the box.
“Good evening, my lady.”
“Good evening, my lord. Thank you for inviting us to share your box.” Milly did not meet his eyes.
“The pleasure was mine. I hope you did not find the gossip at intermission too taxing.”
“No indeed.” Milly made herself look at him. “Enlightening is what I would term it.”
She passed him with her aunt, and they made their way out behind the other guests. The queues for carriages meant their wait would not be a short one.
“Stay here, Aunt, and I shall see how far away the carriage is.”
“It will come, Millicent.”
“I don’t want to wait,” she said, making her way down the steps. Walking along the row, she saw hers in the distance. The walk would not be taxing on Aunt Beth, but perhaps it would be best to give it a bit longer, until the carriage drew closer.
“Pssst!”
Searching for whoever had made that sound, Milly saw a young boy in the shadows.
“What is amiss, boy?”
“Me ma, she’s hurt bad.”
“What has happened?”
“She fell. There’s an awful lot of blood.”
Milly moved closer.
“Where is your mother?”
“Just down there.” He pointed to an opening between two buildings. It was dark, and Milly was no fool. Something did not feel right.
“I will get someone to help me and return.”
The boy darted out of the shadows and grabbed her, followed by two more, and they had her arms in seconds.
“Unhand me!” she screamed, as there were plenty of people about. Surely someone would come to her aid? Milly fought them as they dragged her toward the opening. They nearly had her there when she heard footsteps.
“Release her!”
They did, and she fell backward, landing on her bottom.
“Milly, are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Hands helped her to her feet.
“What happened?”
“I was looking for our carriage, and a boy called to me.”
Joseph was looking from Milly to the opening and back again. The boys would be long gone by now, and she had no wish for him to chase them and get hurt.
“They have gone now.”
“What did he say to you?
“That his mother was hurt, and would I help her.”
“Firstly, what possessed you to go looking for your carriage, and secondly, tell me you did not actually do as the boy asked?” His tone was curt, anger snapping on each word.
“I am quite capable of collecting my own carriage, and no, contrary to what you believe of my intelligence, I was not about to do what the boy asked. I said I would get help, and th-they grabbed me.”
“Had you stayed with your aunt, this would not have happened.”
“I am no longer a woman who takes orders from you, nor some meek and mild miss, Lord Ellsworth. Therefore, I suggest if you wish for one, you go and see your fiancée!”
Milly walked around him then, and back to where her aunt waited. She said nothing about the incident, not wishing to upset her. But it unsettled her. Why had that boy called to her, of all people?
Chapter Eighteen
Milly did not ride in the park the following morning, or the two after that. She did not take morning callers, nor did she leave the house. In fact, she was tempted to get into her carriage and leave London, and would have, were it not for her aunt.
“We are going to Lord and Lady Shubert’s garden party today, Millicent, and do not try any of your excuses on me. We are going. I have quite made up my mind.”
They were taking breakfast in the pretty little lemon parlor, which was another favorite of Milly’s. She loved the dainty roses on the curtains, and the way the sun streamed through the windows early in the morning. There was not much she did not like about this house, possibly because it belonged to her alone.
“Oh, Aunt, must we?” Milly sighed. “They are usually such extravagant affairs, and Lady Shubert will coo and gush over me, simply because I have added some spice to her party.”
“Millicent Lawrence!”
Milly looked at her aunt. She was not happy; in fact, when her lips drew into a line like that, it meant she was furious.
“You are not now, nor have you ever been, some freak in a carnival!”
“Aunt!”
“You are a Marquess’s daughter, and you need to act like one. These people are your equals. So enough of your moping and sulks. We are going, and I will hear no more on the matter.”
“Must I?”
“I have allowed you to stay inside for days, receiving no visitors, but enough is enough!”
“Very well, if I must. But I refuse to stay all day.”
“Excellent, we will leave when we are both ready. I have had your maid lay out the pale blue silk.”
“But that is very... very….” Milly searched for the right word.
“Revealing? Figure hugging? Yes, to both, and as yours is a particularly lovely figure, you shall wear it.”
“Do not set your heart on me finding a husband, Aunt, it will not happen,” Milly said, disliking the look in her eyes.
“I know what you have said, but I can still hope, especially as Lord Ellsworth is still single.”
“There is nothing between us, nor will there ever be. In fact, I have heard his name connected to another,” Milly said, disliking the fact that her heart beat a little faster at the mention of Joseph’s name.
“I have not heard anything,” her aunt declared. “Remember, he is an ally, Milly. He has not said a word against you in my company, nor has he shunned you, when he very well could have. Perhaps you could be nicer to him.”
“I am nice.”
Her aunt made a humming sound but said nothing further.
Why she was upset over his engagement, she did not know. After all, he was nothing to her. What had happened between them on the carriage journey here was forgotten. A lapse in judgment from both of them.
“Lord, will you look at poor Lady Shubert’s butler. He has on a leather vest and Viking helmet. Surely a ma
n of his age and position should not be forced into such a costume.”
Joseph followed his brother-in-law’s gaze to where the man stood. He did look uncomfortable.
“Do you remember that year they were Grecian themed? Miss Tuttle fainted at the sight of the footman’s bronzed chest.”
“Yes, but it was a very deliberate faint, into his arms,” Charles said.
“Why do we come?” Joseph asked.
“It’s like a carriage accident, you have to look.”
“Charming.”
“God’s blood, Jacinta Greenway has half her bosom showing!” Charles said.
“That must be distressing for you, Charles. Shy, retiring soul that you are,” Louis drawled.
They were standing by the river, watching idiots punt up and down. Joseph was on edge for no other reason than Milly was not here yet, and he was not sure she would even come, as he hadn’t seen her for days. She had not gone riding in the mornings, nor to any events in the evenings. He was damned if he was paying a call at her house, like some lovelorn pup, but the hell of it was, he wanted to see her. What the hell did she mean by saying he was engaged! He’d been so stunned he had not denied it... which he did, vehemently.
“Rory is making it his mission to sample every plate of food. We shall have to roll him out of here,” Charles said.
The scene before Joseph and his family was a riot to the senses. Colorful tents were erected for those who wished to get out of the sun, of which there was not a great deal, but still, some women could not stand it on their complexions. There were tables heaving with food and drink. Servants dressed as Vikings wandered about with pained expressions on their faces, offering champagne. Archery targets were set up for the annual competition.
“I hope Lady Shubert pays her staff well. Those men that fetch arrows and adjust targets are taking their lives in their hands,” Louis said.
“Danger money, I believe it is called,” Charles added.
“Ridicule, danger, is there no end to what her staff must suffer.”
Joseph let his eyes wander the guests as Charles and Louis talked. Was she coming? As the thought entered his head, he saw her walking down the path with her aunt.