by Cheryl Holt
His lodging was very modest and not what she’d been expecting. He and his brother were obscenely rich, so she’d presumed he’d have an ostentatious mansion in a posh area. She’d been planning to rub elbows with the cream of London’s High Society.
When she’d politely expressed her disappointment over his meager residence, he’d claimed he didn’t need a monstrosity of a house where the marble floors echoed when he walked across them.
Well, he might be happier in humble surroundings, but she wasn’t, and she had no idea how to persuade him that he ought to improve his situation.
He never dawdled at home, and when they’d initially journeyed to the city, she’d begun traipsing off to various entertainments with him. He drank, gambled, and gamboled, and he had a thousand friends, but they weren’t the sort of acquaintances she’d yearned to acquire.
As she’d slowly suffocated at Carter Crossing, she’d fantasized about how grand things would be if she could just move to town, yet it was nothing like she’d imagined.
While she liked imbibing of hard spirits until she grew silly and out of control, she didn’t like any of the rest of it. His male chums talked about risqué, salacious topics, and they were quite lecherous. They viewed her as loose and available to misbehave.
In the sheltered, rural world where she’d been raised, she’d been unaware that adults carried on in such a foul manner. Clayton had wallowed in London for over a decade. How could he stand the dissipation and vice? She was already exhausted, and she’d only been reveling for a week.
Her biggest disillusionment came from what she’d been doing at night. With her begging him to take her to London, she’d assumed he had a mansion, with plenty of servants and bedchambers, so there would be minimal impropriety over her staying with him.
But he had only one bedchamber, and she’d drunk too much liquor and had wound up in his bed. After that carnal encounter, he’d explained that subsequent encounters were to be allowed and enjoyed, so she’d continued to participate without argument.
The physical deeds he’d shown her were shocking and thrilling, but she was sinning egregiously, and her conduct went against all she’d ever been taught about right and wrong. Marriage was the sole remedy that would make her whole, but it was obvious the notion hadn’t occurred to him.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and he’d just risen to face the day, while she’d been up for hours, pacing and fretting. So far, the boons she’d envisioned hadn’t transpired, and she was fairly sure none of them would.
He was at the dining table, eating breakfast, but sipping whiskey too—as if the approaching evening of parties had commenced. He was handsome as ever, suave and urbane, attired in expensive garments, but his cold, steely reserve was firmly in place.
During their first assignations, she’d convinced herself that his demeanor indicated a deep and fascinating personality. Now though, he was staring at her as if he wasn’t certain who she was or how she’d gotten into his apartment, and she had to accept that she might have completely misjudged his character.
It was very possible that he was simply an odd, detached fellow who might engage in any reprehensible act, but who never regretted any transgression. She hadn’t understood that such peculiar people existed.
“You were at a brothel?” she asked, a tad dizzy from mentioning the subject.
“Yes, I’m a member of a very elite one.”
“You lie down with women who are paid for their intimate services?”
“Actually, I pay dues to belong. It’s a private club.”
“But…but…what about me?”
“What about you?”
“I thought we were a…a…”
She had no term to describe what they were. A couple? A betrothed pair? Bound lovers? None of those conditions applied in the slightest.
“I’m ruined!” she pointed out as if he might not recollect.
“Yes, and it’s been very fun, hasn’t it?”
She wouldn’t deny it, but in her world—which he’d definitely never inhabited—there was a consequence for their antics. That consequence was matrimony.
“Will we wed or what?”
“Wed!” He pronounced the word as if it were an epithet, then he laughed. “You are so naïve. No, Millicent, we won’t ever wed.”
“What will happen to me then?”
“You’ll figure it out. London can be very lucrative for a girl as pretty as you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should put yourself out for bids.”
“What kind of bids? What are you talking about?”
“You should be a mistress. I know several females who are making a bloody fortune at it. We can spend a bit more time in the bedchamber, and I’ll teach you some tricks so you have lots to offer the men who are interested. It will drive up your price.”
“A mistress?” She shuddered. “I’d be paid for doing what you and I have been doing?”
“Yes, but it’s not tawdry. You’d be in an exclusive relationship, and if you play your cards right, you’d walk away with a pile of money and jewelry. You’d be set for life.”
“I don’t want to be set. I want to be settled.”
“They seem the same to me.”
“I assumed—when I came here with you—that I was coming with you. I assumed we’d be together.”
“We are together, aren’t we? I’m happy to have you tarry until you can devise a plan for yourself, but you can’t remain with me forever. The Madam who owns my club can help you find a protector, and she can write the contracts. She frequently assists girls like you.”
She was aghast. “There are contracts?”
“You have to guarantee that the fellow follows through on his promises. You’d be mad not to.”
“I would never sell myself.”
“What will become of you then?”
He studied her over the rim of his glass. He looked cocky and magnificent, but totally removed from her too. Clearly, he didn’t care what path she picked, and she felt like a big ninny.
“I thought this would be different,” she murmured.
“Of course you did.” He reached out and patted her hand. “As I mentioned, you’ll figure it out. You have quite a few immoral tendencies, and in town, you can let them flow free and have the exciting life you always dreamed of having.”
Suddenly, she burst into tears. “I want to go home!”
He was horrified. “To Carter Crossing? I’m a Shawcross, and you ran away with me. Why would your mother take you back? Besides, I doubt she’s there.”
“Where else would she be?”
“The property is my brother’s now, remember? He’ll have evicted her. Or she may have been arrested.”
“Arrested! For what?”
“She was embezzling from the client accounts at Carter Imports, so he intended to summon the sheriff. If she’s left, he might have already burned the place to the ground.”
At the news, she was enormously stricken. “Why would he wreck it?”
“Because he hates your family. He and I both do. I explained it to you when we were still in the country. You can’t have forgotten.”
“You seduced me as part of his scheme, didn’t you? You didn’t really like me. You proceeded so I’d be shamed and disgraced.”
He pondered the accusation, then he nodded. “I guess my ploy was two-fold. I brought you to town so you could escape Carter Crossing, but I brought you for my brother too. He might have seduced you himself, but he’s too honorable, so I did it for him.” He shrugged. “I’ll admit to having mixed motives, but don’t be so glum! All of London is open to you. You should embrace this chance.”
“I’m so stupid,” she muttered.
“Everyone is out of their element when they first arrive, but you grow up fast.” He stood and tossed down his napkin. “Now then, I must be off. I have an important card game tonight for very high stakes.
I have to prepare.”
“May I come with you?”
“No.”
“How should I amuse myself for the rest of the evening?”
“You’re welcome to do whatever you like, but you should make an appointment to confer with the Madam at my club. She can tutor you on how to keep from winding up with a babe in your belly. If you wallow in iniquity, you have to be cautious.”
Millicent blanched with dismay. She was such a dunce that the prospect of a baby hadn’t occurred to her. “I could be with child?”
“Probably not yet. I’ve been careful, but other lovers might not be, so you have to take the appropriate action. A man never will. It’s up to the woman.”
He started for the door, and she said, “When will I see you again?”
“Tomorrow morning? I’m not sure how many hours the game will last, but I’ll be winning, so I won’t quit until the other players’ purses are empty.”
“How can you be certain you’ll win?”
He grinned his devil’s grin. “Because I cheat.”
Then he sauntered out, and she loafed at the table, listening to the silence. His servants were running errands, so she was by herself. Lucas had given her some pin money, so she wasn’t exactly broke. She could have gone shopping or visited a museum, but she didn’t like to bustle around the busy streets on her own.
She wondered how much it would cost to buy a ticket on the mail coach to Frinton. What if she traveled to Carter Crossing, but Beatrice wouldn’t let her inside? Or what if she staggered in, but Raven Shawcross had foreclosed? What then?
Perhaps she should write to Rebecca to ask what was happening. Rebecca would know, and she’d respond too. Of all the people at home, Rebecca was the only one who’d fret about Millicent’s disappearance.
Yes, she would write immediately, then, depending on Rebecca’s answer, she’d decide her next step. It was obvious she couldn’t continue on as she was.
She couldn’t imagine how long she dawdled, but with autumn ending and winter approaching, the afternoon waned quickly. She stared out as the colors faded from the sky.
A knock sounded on the door, but she was too morose to react. It sounded again, and she figured a servant was back and had forgotten his key.
She rose and trudged over, feeling more wretched than she’d ever been, and when she glanced out, she was incredibly confused.
“Mr. Melville?” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Miss Carter.” An awkward interval festered, then he asked, “May I come in?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
He blustered in, and as he studied the room, his expression was furious.
She gestured to the sofa. “Won’t you sit?”
“No, thank you.”
There was another awkward pause, where neither of them could begin. Finally, she couldn’t bear it, and she asked, “How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy; I’ll tell you that.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to return to Carter Crossing with me. I want you to accompany me right now.”
“Really?” She was swamped by such a wave of relief that she nearly hugged him.
He clasped her hands very firmly. “I realize you have a low opinion of me. I’m stuffy and stodgy and boring. I could never compare to a dashing rogue like Lucas Shawcross, but Miss Carter—Millicent—I can’t permit you to remain with him.”
“It’s so sweet of you to worry about me.”
“I have worried. From the moment I discovered you’d left with him, I’ve been in an absolute dither, and I have to admit that I am the only one. Raven Shawcross isn’t concerned that his brother absconded with you. Your mother isn’t concerned. There’s only me, Miss Carter. I intend to wrench you from Lucas Shawcross’s dastardly clutches. Will you let me?”
The tears she’d shed earlier had dried up, but on hearing his poignant entreaty, they started in again. “You’re being very kind, Mr. Melville, much kinder than I deserve, but I can’t show my face back there. I fear I am…am…ruined.”
“I had no doubt you would be. Lucas Shawcross is a fiend, and I guessed at once that you would be imperiled.”
“He didn’t abscond with me. I begged him to bring me to London.”
“Are you wishing he hadn’t? You look positively glum, so it can’t have turned out as you were hoping.”
“No, it hasn’t turned out as I was hoping at all.”
“You’re young, Miss Carter, and you’ve never encountered a scoundrel like him. I comprehend how and why he tempted you, but when you recognize you’ve made a bad decision, you’re allowed to change course. We can go home, and you can put this incident behind you. I’ll never tell a soul what I observed. It will be our little secret, but please assist me as I keep you from making it any worse.”
“I might be with child!”
He gulped at the news, then pulled himself up to his full height and valiantly announced, “If you are in the family way, I shall wed you and save you from disgrace.”
“Why would you?”
“I’ve been inordinately fond of you, Miss Carter. In the past, you discounted my affection, but perhaps this escapade will have smoothed over your ambivalent feelings. It’s amusing to think about having wild adventures, but there is great solace in the normal, common parts of life. I’m sure—in your traipsing off with Mr. Shawcross—you didn’t completely consider the ramifications.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“So…I forgive you for your transgressions, and I ask that I have a chance to prove my devotion to you.”
It was a pretty speech, and he was flummoxed by it. His cheeks flushed bright red, and she supposed they were a pathetic pair. He was embarrassed and discomposed, and she was crying like a baby.
“If you can forgive me, Mr. Melville, I have to categorically state that you might be the dearest man who ever lived.”
“I might be boring and tedious, Millicent, but I’m steadfast and true as well.” He nodded to the bedchamber. “Will you pack your bags? Will you leave with me? You must understand that this is the sole time I’ll stop by. If you refuse to depart, I won’t try again—and you’ll be on your own. Don’t permit pride or foolishness to push you into the wrong choice.”
“What would I be returning to?” she asked. “I’m afraid my mother has been evicted—or maybe even arrested.”
“We’ll worry about all of that later. For now, we’ll simply remove you from where you are.”
She peered around the small parlor that so clearly indicated how Lucas had failed to deliver the future she’d dreamed of having. She’d tossed the dice, had cast caution to the wind. In her naïve condition, she’d glommed onto a wastrel and a gambler, and if she tarried, who could predict how it would wash out in the end?
That very instant, she could have a babe growing in her belly, but if she was in trouble, Lucas would never rescue her. His remedy was for her to visit the proprietor of his brothel and be instructed in the methods of harlots.
It was the existence she’d risked all to have, and it had been a hideous mistake.
And here was Mr. Melville. Kind, dull, clumsy Mr. Melville. In running off with Lucas, she’d sinned dreadfully, yet he’d fretted over her. He’d searched for her. He’d found her, and he forgave her.
What woman could ignore that sort of marvelous fidelity?
“Yes, I will go with you,” she said. “Let me grab my portmanteau. I just need a minute to pack.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Do you know where Mother is buried?”
Rebecca pulled up short and gaped at her sister. “I just realized I have no idea.”
“She wasn’t brought to Carter Crossing?”
“No. There’s a family plot at the cemetery behind the church in Frinton. She’s not buried there.”
“She was a sinner—due to her affair with Father—so the vicar wouldn’
t have let her be laid to rest in hallowed ground.”
“Gad, I hope she wasn’t dumped in a pauper’s grave.”
“I’ll have Nathan ask Aunt Edwina. She might have details about what happened—if she’ll share them with him. She can be awful.”
“I’d consider writing to Cousin Beatrice, but when I left Carter Crossing, I swore I’d never contact her again.”
“We can have Nathan speak to her. I believe he has some comments for her about that letter we sent you.”
“I wish I could claim I’m surprised she didn’t give it to me, but I’m not surprised. She was horrid.”
“Why would she care that we wrote to you?” Sarah inquired. “Why would it bother her if your relatives reached out?”
“She never had a positive remark about the Blakes, and she hated that they were aristocrats. She was probably afraid I’d flit off to live with you, and my life would be wine and roses from that point on. The notion would have driven her mad.”
Sarah smirked. “Were you aware you have a dowry?”
“I don’t have a dowry.”
“Nathan dug into it. He’d been wondering whether Father had a Will when he died. When we were born, he put some money aside for us. At the beginning, it wasn’t much, but it’s been sitting in an account for a quarter of a century, so it’s quite a lot now.”
“Are you telling me I’m an heiress?” Rebecca was very skeptical.
Sarah chuckled. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess you are.”
Rebecca was a tad astonished. “What a bizarre discovery.”
“You could wed if you wanted.”
“I don’t want to wed. Not ever.”
“I used to feel the same, but then, I met Sebastian. He changed my mind.”
“Not right away. According to him, you were incredibly stubborn.”
“He deserved for me to be stubborn. His family behaved atrociously toward me, and I refused to be connected to such hideous villains.”
“You’re lucky though. From what I’ve observed so far, he’s a fine man.”
“Rich and famous too,” Sarah added. “How often does a girl get to marry a national icon?”