Ryan arrived in the evening, Richard (who was reluctant to allow Millie to venture out into the cold night) having sent a cab to the station to collect him. Millie was at home alone when the doorbell of the large house rang, Margaret and Richard having gone to visit friends of Margaret’s for dinner. Millie had divulged nothing of her feelings for Ryan to either of them but she suspected that Margaret guessed the truth and had arranged this outing tactically.
Millie opened the door to Ryan and invited him in. She could tell he was nervous as he carried his small amount of luggage across the threshold. The ground floor of the house was cold and dark. Millie ushered Ryan upstairs to her room before really greeting him and, as soon as they entered the bedroom, she fell to tending the fire as she’d noticed him shivering. “Come and sit by the hearth,” she said. “Take your coat off.”
Ryan was transfixed by the sight of Millie engaged in manual work. “Don’t you have someone to do that for you?” he couldn’t resist but ask.
“Give over,” she replied dismissively. “I’ll have you know I can make as good a fire as any housemaid at Glassnest.”
“Because you’ve watched them do it so many times,” he replied daringly.
It was only then that, in an attitude of mock offence, Millie rose from the hearth and greeted him with a playful smack on the cheek, fully aware that her sooty hand would leave its mark.
In retaliation, Ryan scooped her up off her feet and kissed her, only releasing her after an embrace that lasted a couple of minutes. He gazed down upon her and smiled, reflecting her beaming face.
“You see how clever I am, O’Flynn?” she said. “Isn’t this lovely? We have a cosy room, a small fire, tea, crumpets and a pie, and, best of all, no Aunt Rose!”
“I really don’t know how you pulled it off, Millie,” he conceded.
“It was a small but most satisfying victory,” Millie agreed.
They passed a pleasant evening, sitting on the carpet by the fire and picnicking, Millie eager to limit the number of trips downstairs, given that the rest of the house was so very cold. They heard Richard and Margaret return but, by then, it was so late that an introduction seemed inappropriate.
Ryan yawned and then apologised.
“No need,” Millie said. “You must be exhausted after a morning’s work and then that journey. I’m tired too.”
“Where will I sleep?” he asked.
It was only then that Millie looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, I had thought you might sleep here. It’s a double bed,” she added, gesturing to the far side of the room, where a large curtain sectioned-off the sleeping area from the living space.
“And where will you sleep?” Ryan asked, trying to disguise his smile.
Now Millie really looked uncomfortable. It was an effort for Ryan to suppress his laughter.
“I suppose I could go downstairs,” Millie said tentatively.
“I think that would be best,” Ryan replied, nodding sagely.
Millie’s gaze was downcast.
Ryan stretched his arm towards her and lifted up her chin, smiling amusedly at her deflated expression. “Or alternatively, I suppose you could just bunk up with me,” he offered.
“That was my plan,” Millie admitted, only then realising that he’d been teasing her. She slapped his cheek in jest again and instantly felt his lips kiss the palm of her hand.
Turning his face towards her, Ryan said, “Isn’t it about time we turned in?”
* * *
The following morning Millie awoke feeling more contented than she had ever before. Sleeping and waking with Ryan beside her was the most comforting thing she could imagine. He had woken in the night but Millie had anticipated this and had soothed him after he’d emerged from his nightmare. In the morning they said nothing about it – Millie even wondered whether Ryan recalled waking.
They rose, washed and dressed and then, venturing down to the kitchen, were pleased to find that Margaret had lit a healthy fire and had breakfast well underway. If Millie had been nervous about reintroducing Ryan to Margaret and Richard, outside the confines and conventions of the convalescent hospital, her reservations had been misplaced; he very quickly fitted into their household and insisted on helping Margaret cook breakfast.
Ryan was also eager to undertake the tasks that he understood Richard had intended for him and was visibly disappointed to discover that these had largely been dreamt up by Millie. Richard said that, on such a fine day as it was, Ryan’s time was far better spent visiting the sites of the capital. However, he appeased Ryan by also saying that he would have a think about what needed doing around the house and surgery.
So it was that Millie and Ryan spent the rest of the day touring the city, Millie eager to show Ryan such icons as the Tower of London, Ryan much preferring to just stroll alongside the Thames and drink in the scenes about him.
For Millie, one of the nicest things about being with Ryan was eating lunch in an ordinary cafe, rather than having to keep up appearances as she had to when out and about with Aunt Rose or any of her set.
By mid-afternoon the light was waning and, as soon as the sun went down, the streets became bitterly cold. Millie asked Ryan if he would indulge her once more before they returned home, by escorting her to a proper pub. He was amused by the request but agreed readily and laughed heartily to watch her struggle to drink a half-pint of stout.
“This is a nice public house,” Millie said, looking about her.
“What were you expecting? Spit and sawdust!” Ryan replied, laughing at her again.
“No but I didn’t anticipate it being as nice as this. I could get quite used to this,” Millie said, sinking back into the upholstery of the snug in which they sat.
The pub was still quiet as the working day wasn’t quite over. Millie looked proudly upon Ryan – he seemed at ease wherever he was.
“Marry me, Ryan,” she suddenly said.
He was taken by surprise. “That drink’s gone straight to your head,” he observed light-heartedly.
“No it hasn’t,” she insisted. “It’s just relaxed me enough to say exactly what I’m thinking.”
Ryan looked grave. “Look, Millie–” he began.
“Don’t try to talk me out of proposing. Just answer my question,” she said authoritatively. “I shan’t go down on one knee but here’s my formal proposal.” Millie sat up straight and said solemnly, “Ryan O’Flynn, will you marry me?”
He gazed into her eyes with a strange expression and said, “It doesn’t seem real.”
“It is real,” Millie insisted.
Ryan hesitated a moment as he looked about the saloon. Nobody could really see them. Getting down on his knee and taking Millie’s hand, Ryan said, “Millicent Awbridge, will you marry me?”
“It’s Millicent Agatha Rose Awbridge, actually,” Millie corrected, slightly annoyed that her proposal had been upstaged by his.
“Well, Millicent Agatha Rose, what do you say?” Ryan pursued, now feeling slightly self-conscious as a group of clerks had just walked up to the bar.
“I most graciously accept your proposal, Mr O’Flynn,” Millie said, not caring who saw them.
“Can I get up now?” Ryan asked.
“You may,” Millie granted, enjoying having control of the situation once more.
Ryan rose and took his seat beside her again. “It’s hard to see how it can actually happen,” he admitted, finding difficulty in looking at her as he said it.
“Oh, it will happen,” Millie said confidently, seeking his gaze. She raised her hand to his cheek and then kissed his lips, before repeating, “It will happen.”
Chapter 21
The day when Ryan returned to Glassnest saw Millie relentlessly tearful. She tried in vain to conduct herself with dignity but ended up just feeling more emotional on account of Margaret and Richard’s sensitivity in avoiding any mention of her obvious distress.
Despite the fact that she was soon immersed in the life of the surgery, whic
h opened soon after Ryan’s departure, Millie missed him terribly and was driven by one thought: that their betrothal should mean more than hollow words. She was due to return to Glassnest for Easter and she determined that she would then tell Randolph of her intention to marry Ryan.
Millie wasn’t the only person who was eager to set their commitment in stone. As Richard’s practice got off the ground, quickly establishing a list of affluent patients, through his social connections and the good reputation he had gained for his surgical work during the war, he became increasingly restless to be married to Margaret. On Saint Valentine’s Day, he not only proposed a date in June for their wedding but vowed to tell his uncle of his plans. So it was that, by the time Millie arrived at Glassnest, everyone knew about the minor scandal of Richard Sutton’s unsuitable match.
“And, as if marrying a commoner were not enough,” Aunt Rose said scathingly of Richard, “they actually propose to have Effie’s illegitimate child in attendance at the ceremony.” This comment was intended to outrage Randolph – it was, of course, old news to Millie.
“Callum’s going to be a page boy,” Millie clarified to her father, “as neither Richard nor Margaret has any child in their family and Mrs Sutton is so very fond of Callum.”
Randolph nodded.
“Ri-di-cu-lous!” Rose pronounced.
“You’re invited to the wedding, Daddy,” Millie said, ignoring Rose.
“Yes, I received the Suttons’ kind invitation–”
“Of course your father will not be frequenting such a charade, Millicent. Besides, he hardly knows the Suttons. Anyway, you’ll be accompanying me on the day so the two of us shall do very well in representing our family.”
It occurred to Millie that Rose had probably not consulted Randolph upon the question of whether or not he actually wanted to go to the wedding. And, as she was so annoyed with Rose, Millie took great delight in responding to her assertion by saying, “But I’m taking Ryan, Aunt Rose.”
There was a pause of shocked horror before Rose said incredulously, “The groom, O’Flynn?”
“Yes,” Millie replied calmly, “Ryan.”
Rose looked to Randolph for a suitably incensed reaction to the suggestion but none was forthcoming.
“But you can’t possibly do that Millicent,” Rose said, doubly angry that Randolph himself didn’t say it. “We’ll be a laughing-stock.”
“But if what you say is right, Aunt Rose, everybody’ll be so preoccupied with the scandal of the bride and groom, that nobody’ll notice who my guest is.”
“Randolph!” Rose exclaimed, looking for support.
“Richard and Margaret know Ryan from the hospital and from the work he did for them at the surgery. Also, it will be nice for Effie and Callum if he’s there too.”
“Then why can’t he accompany Effie?” Rose asked pointedly.
* * *
The argument over Richard’s wedding was not resolved during that conversation. Later in the day, Millie caught her father alone and asked him whether he would like to go to the wedding too.
“What your aunt says is true, Millicent,” he said in response, “I really don’t know the Suttons well enough to feel it my place to attend.”
“But you do approve, don’t you Daddy, of Richard and Margaret’s match – they truly love one another.”
“I have to say that I don’t approve, Millicent. People should marry one of their own social class. Otherwise, it won’t be a happy outcome.”
Millie felt hurt, rather than angered, by his words. “I thought you’d changed, Daddy,” she couldn’t help but observe. “I thought when you let Effie come back you’d become more open-minded.”
“Millicent, I invited Effie home upon your request.” He hesitated before continuing, “And, in part, because I thought she and Ryan might then marry after all. That would be a match of which I would approve.” Randolph found it hard to look at Millie as he said those words. He could barely bring himself to consider what Millie’s intention to take Ryan to the Sutton wedding really implied. “Effie’s not a bad girl,” he said, when Millie failed to respond to his earlier comments. “And,” he continued tentatively, “I can see that your accusation of Windham was just – Callum is undoubtedly his son; he’s the double of him. I accept that Effie was wronged by Windham.” It was still hard for Randolph to condemn one of his own class, Millie could tell, but at least he admitted Ben Windham’s guilt.
And so Easter didn’t transpire to be the time when Millie revealed her full plans to her father. But she did secure his agreement to allow Ryan, along with Effie, to have leave to attend the wedding. So in June, in spite of the presence of a very uncomfortable and unwilling Aunt Rose –although she wouldn’t have missed the event for all the world!– the Glassnest party, and Millie in particular, enjoyed the occasion of Richard and Margaret’s wedding. Standing beside Ryan, Millie wept as the happy couple said their vows – she so envied Richard’s bravery in pursuing the marriage partner he desired. She was comforted by Ryan discreetly taking her hand in his but the gesture just reminded her that it was she who needed to be brave when it came to the question of their own union.
* * *
Contrary to her expectation, Millie found she didn’t feel uncomfortable returning to live above the surgery once Richard and Margaret were married. The newlyweds occupied the first floor apartment, Millie now had the second floor to herself, and the recently-installed cook and maid resided in the attic rooms.
Far from becoming a lady of leisure upon her marriage, Margaret worked tirelessly alongside her husband in the surgery. Millie had wondered how Margaret would take to having servants but she found that Margaret treated them very much as colleagues, accepting that they were necessary additions to the household, given that she was so deeply involved in her work once again. And so, as the cook and maid were both amiable, efficient young women, it was a relaxed and enjoyable domestic existence for Millie, free, she was relieved to discover, of the hierarchies of Glassnest.
The June wedding only intensified Millie’s awareness of her own predicament and, inevitably, she confided in Margaret concerning the state of affairs between herself and Ryan. Margaret, who had guessed at their situation long before, consulted Richard upon the matter and Millie was immediately assured that, should Ryan need to leave Glassnest, he was guaranteed the spare room on the second floor, or, if they were to marry without Randolph’s consent, they could continue living at the surgery until such a time as Ryan’s new employment might necessitate their departure.
“Ryan will find work here,” Richard assured Millie. “There’s such a shortage of young men now, due to the losses in the war, that a personable, intelligent chap like Ryan, willing to turn his hand to anything, is sure to find a position.”
Millie’s confidence was bolstered by Richard’s words to such an extent that, when her Aunt Rose proposed that Millie should come away with her to the South Coast for a fortnight in August, Millie declined the offer, stating that she wished to spend her holidays at Glassnest instead. Then, she decided, she would tell Randolph of her intentions.
Chapter 22
“Ryan and I are going to get married, Daddy.”
Millie spent a week at Glassnest before she plucked up the courage to confront her father. Each day she rode Kerry from early morning well into the afternoon, in order to maximise her exposure to Ryan – on a couple of occasions he was able to ride out with her on Wellington, which was heavenly. They had to exercise a certain amount of discretion, of course, and the arduousness involved in doing this was probably what, in the end, pushed Millie to the conclusion of an audience with Randolph. She didn’t tell Ryan what she was going to do though, in case she couldn’t go through with it when it came to the crunch.
“I’m sorry?” Randolph said, sounding genuinely confounded by her statement.
“Ryan O’Flynn and I are in love – we have been for five years. We’re going to get married.”
“Millicent, this is prepost
erous.” He didn’t sound angry; just truly shocked.
“It would be nice to have your blessing,” Millie proceeded, trying to sound dispassionate but aware of a trembling sensation all about her being which, she knew, could be detected in her voice. “I appreciate that you will most likely disinherit me but I hope you won’t disown me completely.”
“You can’t do this, Millicent,” Randolph said but his tone was one of futility – it was outrageous that she was even contemplating doing it – his only child was lost to him already.
Millie gave him no response.
“It’s bad enough that you insist on working now the war is over–”
“Ryan and I have Richard’s approval–”
“That’s no surprise; he’s as barmy as you,” Randolph couldn’t help but say sarcastically.
Millie was determined not to take his bait and continued calmly, “So if you have a problem with Ryan continuing to work on the estate, he can return to London with me. We can leave today,” she added because her father’s look was so bloody that she couldn’t imagine Ryan’s life would be anything other than miserable if he stayed on at Glassnest after she’d gone.
Randolph was silent for a moment before saying softly, “That might be best.”
Millie suddenly appreciated that he was genuinely hurt by her revelation. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She paused before continuing, “I do know what I’m doing. I’ll never love anyone but Ryan – I’ve known that for a long time now. So the only way I can possibly be happy is to be with him.”
Randolph sat at his desk, his face downcast.
Millie lingered for a moment but, when he failed to react to her words, she left the room, closing the heavy study door gently behind her as she went.
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