Chapter 13

13

The Earl of Tetly’s drawing room offered a feast for the eyes. Millie wasn’t sure who Drake consulted on the decoration of this room, but the dusty-blue walls contrasted beautifully with dark wood furnishings. An Aubusson rug graced the parquet floor, and pastoral paintings decorated the walls. She tried to focus on those details instead of her stepmother.

‘I’ve always said my daughter was lucky to have such an indulgent father. And if I hadn’t put forth such efforts on her behalf, we’d never be having a wedding.’ Patricia’s shrill laughter grated over Millie’s frayed nerves.

‘I must admit, I was surprised to see an invitation from Beaufort for a wedding.’ Nora ducked her head in false modesty. ‘Certainly, there was a time when he was intent to wed, but I thought he’d given up such ideas.’

How dare you use his name as if you had a right.

Millie swallowed hard, forcing her breathing to remain calm. Nora was diabolical and found her perfect match in Patricia. Those two women joining forces did not bode well for Millie.

Nora’s dress was a rose velvet, highlighting her creamy complexion and pink lips. The neckline dipped daringly, exposing small, pert, perfect little breasts.

Ugly ropes of jealousy wrapped around Millie’s ribs, tightening with every word from Nora.

‘I often wonder how different things would be if he’d never gone to war.’ Nora’s bluebell eyes filled with tears, and Millie fought the urge not to slap the silly woman.

‘I imagine he would have grown to regret his choices and resent anyone who stopped him from following his heart. I’m sure he’d tell you going to the war made him into the brave, honourable, dedicated man he is today.’ Millie glared at Nora.

Nora’s delicate features hardened. Her tears magically dissolved in the heat of her ire. ‘I’d wager his heart remained here. With the one he proposed marriage to out of love, not duty.’

Ouch. Well played, Nora.

‘Few women have the ability to really capture a man’s heart.’ Patricia jumped in, forcing Millie to swallow her bitter response. ‘Take Lord Whittenburg, for example. He’s besotted with me. Denies me nothing. I’m the only woman who holds his affections.’ Patricia stretched her lips into a vicious smile as she glared at Millie.

Grand. They’re joining forces against me. Fine. I’ll take them both out.

‘I find men who are so beholden to their wives never had much backbone to begin with, so bending them to your will isn’t much of a feat.’ Philippa drew alongside Millie. She looked resplendent in a gown of deep purple. Her fan thwacked against her thigh to punctuate her words. ‘Far better to have mutual respect. Even if it means more friction. I admire how Major General Drake has left behind the silly infatuation of his youth to embark on a journey with someone better suited. Millicent is certainly his equal in intelligence and moral fibre. Something I wouldn’t say of his first choice.’

Millie could have cheered in triumph. Not only had Philippa delivered a wicked blow to both Patricia and Nora, but the duchess’ dim view of men in general made her support of Drake even more meaningful.

Nora’s cheeks darkened, and her eyes darted around the room, refusing to meet Philippa’s frank stare. ‘I’m sure I wouldn’t know, Your Grace.’

Patricia took a different tack, glaring at the duchess. ‘After so long being without a man, perhaps you’ve forgotten how they can be both strong and pliant.’

Philippa tapped her finger against her lip in false consideration. ‘As I said before, it’s a good thing you are mildly attractive, for your intellect certainly leaves one wanting more. I forget nothing, Lady Whittenburg. You might want to think on that.’ Philippa turned and walked away, perusing the paintings on a far wall.

‘Dreadful woman! If she wasn’t so closely tied to the Queen, I would cut her direct,’ Patricia fumed. ‘Oh, there’s Lady Bradford. I’d best speak with her about tomorrow’s activities.’ She left in a flurry of blinding-yellow silk.

Nora sipped her sherry, leaning closer to Millie. ‘He’ll never care for you the way he does me.’ Nora’s sweet smile hardened into something almost feral. ‘No matter what your duchess says. I am his one true love.’

Harsh laughter burned Millie’s throat. ‘You are nothing to him. He may have loved you once, but you threw it away for the hope of a title. You are his past. I am Beau’s future.’

‘Only because you trapped him into this sham of a marriage. What man would ever want a fat, lumbering giant of a woman?’ Before Millie could reply, Nora looked beyond her to where the men were re-joining their party. She walked away from Millie toward Drake and his brother. ‘Darling, I was just telling Miss Whittenburg about the time you and Beaufort almost came to fisticuffs over who would row me around the lake in your little boat when we were children. Do you recall?’

Millie refused to chase after the woman, but everything in her wanted to drag her back by her perfectly silky hair and show her what fisticuffs really looked like.

Damnation, I’ve become a violent creature.

Franklin St George walked into the room with Reynard behind him. He bypassed his wife, whose eyes lit up until he breezed by and joined Millie near the fireplace. Why Victoria still cared about the man was beyond her. The cheerful crackle and warmth of the flames no longer felt soothing to Millie in his cold presence.

‘What a wonderful party you’ve gathered.’ Franklin’s gaze strayed to her breasts before slowly returning to her face.

‘Hardly my doing, sir. Patricia is responsible for the guest list. Had I been given the task, we would have far fewer past acquaintances present.’

‘Patricia is a delightful hostess. We had quite an enlightening discussion over dinner. She seems devoted to your happiness. Willing to do almost anything to ensure your safety.’

Millie almost laughed, but the sharpness of his words set her on edge. He was making a play. She just wasn’t sure what his goal was yet. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

Franklin inclined his head to Lady Winterbourne. Philippa held a glass of whiskey despite the shocked looks of many ladies in the room. She was conversing with Lord Bradford and eyeing his moustache with a perfectly arched brow of censure.

Franklin moved, blocking Millie from the other guests’ view. He stepped forward, forcing her to back up until she hit the papered wall. She winced as the wainscoting pressed into one of her bandages.

‘Your sweet mother was quite scandalised to realise her daughter was engaged in an illegal and sinful relationship with another woman. I must say, Millie, it makes more sense now that you would reject my initial advances this afternoon. But never fear. I can be just as adventurous as you. There’s no reason we couldn’t include another member in our little game.’ He reached out and grasped her hand. Pulling it up to his lips, he pressed an open-mouth kiss on her knuckles, leaving a trail of spit between her fingers. Millie shuddered in revulsion. ‘Don’t worry, darling. Your secret is safe with me. As long as you’re willing to repay my favour.’

Damn Patricia and her loose tongue!

Of course her vicious stepmother would share her suspicions with St George, giving the disgusting man more ammunition in his war to claim Millie.

She ripped her hand out of his grasp, wiping it on her skirts. ‘Please maintain your distance, sir. My stepmother’s imagination is almost as wild as her taste in dresses.’

‘Truth rarely influences society’s judgement. Perhaps your mother is mistaken, but it matters not a whit once the beau monde gets wind of such a salacious story. Whatever you do, I wouldn’t upset your sweet mother.’ His fine grey eyes flashed in the firelight, the darkness in their depths turning Millie cold despite the heat from the flames. ‘Nor should you refuse me.’

She narrowed her gaze and contemplated the ramifications of punching him in his trachea. ‘Are you threatening me, sir?’

Franklin shrugged, the action causing his chin to disappear. ‘I’m merely giving you some good advice, Millie.’

‘Your threats are as empty as your soul, Franklin. You don’t scare me. I’m no longer the trusting young woman you took advantage of so long ago.’

St George twitched his lips in a cold smile. ‘I don’t recall you objecting when I threw up your skirts and fucked you like a cheap harlot on the grass.’ Again, he focused on her breasts, his wet tongue swiping over thin lips.

Millie almost gagged. She let this man kiss her. Touch her. Defile her. All because of a silly misconception they were in love. What a fool she’d been. But no more. She wouldn’t let this little toad of a man intimidate or threaten her.

I hope he is guilty. Philippa need not bother with him. I’ll happily take care of Franklin St George.

Time to bluff and see what Franklin revealed. ‘You may plan on spreading lies about me amongst the peerage, but I have something far more dangerous to give them about you, Franklin. The truth. And while your fruitless falsehoods might cause a stir, my information will put your head in a noose.’

Franklin’s gaze sharpened, and his pathetic jaw flexed. ‘What exactly do you mean?’

‘Try to intimidate me again, and you’ll find out. Major General Drake is coming this way, Franklin. I think you’d better scuttle. You’re quite good at that, aren’t you? Slipping away when things get messy?’

Franklin gripped her arm, squeezing tight. ‘You’ve no idea how messy things can get, Millicent.’ His breath wreaked of stale wine and something rotten. Probably his soul.

‘Ah, there you are, darling.’ Millie pushed Franklin out of her way to join Drake’s side. ‘We were just discussing the wedding.’

Drake’s impenetrable stare shifted from Millie to Franklin, then back again. He pulled her closer, his hand resting on her waist. A scandalous show of affection from a man who claimed there was no such emotion between them. More likely, he was making his claim of ownership. It didn’t really matter. Millie leaned into his warm, solid body. The band around her chest eased.

‘Really?’ His judgemental brow was up again, along with his temper based on the flush painting his high cheekbones. He pinned Franklin with a violent glare.

Franklin’s pinched lips betrayed his own anger. ‘I promised Lord Renquist a game of faro. Best not disappoint the good man.’ He nodded curtly at Drake. ‘Major General.’ Then cast his gaze once more on Millie. ‘I’m so enjoying our chance to become reacquainted, Millie . So much has changed since we were children.’

She desperately wanted to hit him in that moment. And St George knew it.

‘You will call her Miss Whittenburg, or Lady Drake if you wish, as that is the name she shall be taking in a few short days. Chances are fleeting, St George. For example, the chance of you ever being invited here again is completely gone.’ Drake’s gravelled voice brooked no argument. Millie felt his grip tighten on her hip.

‘Yes, well.’ Franklin nodded again, then turned to find Lord Renquist.

‘Thank you,’ Millie murmured, but when her eyes met Drake’s, his glacial stare held none of the earlier heat.

‘I don’t care if you have a history with that man. I don’t care if he is a family friend. You will stay away from him. Do you understand me?’

While Millie had no desire to spend time with Franklin, she also wasn’t thrilled to be commanded like a child. ‘I don’t take orders, Drake. Not from anyone.’ Except Philippa, who received them from the Queen. And no one disregarded the Queen.

‘You’ll take them from me.’ He pulled her even closer.

‘Franklin is a brute, a coward, a bully, and an arse. I have no wish to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. But you are acting much the same, Major General Drake. Perhaps I should stay away from both of you.’

She spun out of his grip. Ivy was sitting at one of the whist tables with Victoria and Lady Bradford. ‘Ivy, shall I be your partner?’ she called out as she walked away from her future husband, not sparing him another glance for the remainder of the evening.

Major General Drake controls many things, but he shall never control me.

Even if her heart ached from the loss of his company.

Millie slept terribly. She spent most of the night listening for the click of her connecting door opening. It never did. Which was good. She didn’t want a midnight visit from the high-handed earl, even if her whole body felt strung tight enough to snap. If he’d come into her room, she would have sent Major General Drake back to his bed with boxed ears and a blistered hide. She certainly wouldn’t have allowed him access to her person. Nor would she have allowed him to work his magic on her with his mouth, tantalise her with his tongue, thrill her with his questing fingers.

Liar.

Millie thumped her pillow and all but leapt out of bed when Penny arrived. She had called upon her maid to help her dress early and Penny was still blinking the sleep from her eyes when she arrived in Millie’s room. She felt terrible for rousing her maid so early, but if she spent one more moment in her room imagining what the man on the other side of the door was doing, she would go mad.

Penny helped her dress in Millie’s favourite riding habit with split skirts. It had been ages since she’d been on a long ride. Patricia didn’t allow her to ride in London, believing her insistence upon riding astride to be far too scandalous for the lords and ladies trotting along Rotton Row or taking their phaetons or gigs to the south side of Hyde Park to see and be seen. Only when they retired to the country was Millie allowed to ride as she wished.

Well, I’m in the country now and no longer under Patricia’s command.

Nor was she beholden to Drake’s opinions on how or when she should ride. Yet. While she longed for freedom, there were no guarantees she would be granted an independent life once married. Drake had been correct about one thing the previous night. Chances were fleeting. If this was her one window of opportunity, she intended to savour it with the wind blowing through her hair and a powerful beast between her legs.

I can think of another powerful beast I wouldn’t mind riding.

Scandalous! Apparently, she could be angry with the man and still want to ravage him. Millie shut down such lascivious thoughts. They hadn’t helped her in the middle of the night, and she wasn’t going to waste any more time fantasising about the Earl of Tetly’s head buried between her thighs.

She strode out to the stables well before the rest of the house was even awake. If there were no stable boys around, she could saddle one of Drake’s fine animals herself.

‘Millie! Wot are you doin’ out ’ere so early? Toffs ain’t out and about till well past noon.’ Billy Bright greeted her with a cheerful grin, smudging the dust on his cheek in a hasty swipe.

‘Hello Billy, what a lovely surprise. I didn’t know you worked in the stables.’ Millie was delighted to find her little friend with a curry brush in one hand and a hoof pick poking out of his pocket.

‘I’m trying a bit o’ this and bit o’ that ’til I find summink wot suits me. Major General Drake tol’ me to do jus’ that. ’E wants me to find a livings I like and one I’m good at.’ Billy leaned close and whispered loudly, ‘Course, it ain’t easy, as I’m right good at so many things.’ He winked.

Millie covered her smile and tried to keep her voice serious. ‘Quite a burden to bear, Master Bright. And what do you think about working in the stables?’

Billy puffed out his chest. ‘I right like brushing the ’orses and feeding ’em too. Mucking out stalls ain’t so grand, but old Jonesy, the stablemaster, says we gotta take good care o’ the horses as they can’t do it themselves, and no one wants to live in shit, does they?’

She couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up her throat. ‘No, Billy. I dare say they don’t. Well, do you have time to help me saddle up that sweet little mare over there?’

Billy’s gaze followed where Millicent pointed. ‘Medusa? She’s a right Devil she is. Faster’n most o’ the others, even if she is a girl, but don’t much like to mind ’er riders. Major General Drake’s the only one ’oo can ride ’er wifout gettin’ thrown.’ He shook his head, biting his lip as his brows drew down in concern. ‘I don’ fink she’s a good choice for you, Millie. Himself’d ’ave me ’ide if anyfink ’appened to you.’

Millie wasn’t so sure, but she appreciated Billy’s concern. ‘Don’t you worry, Billy. I don’t mind a headstrong lady. In fact, I bet we have quite a lot in common.’

Billy didn’t look convinced, but he helped Millie brush down the horse, clean out her hooves, and saddle her. Medusa only tried to nip Billy once, but Millie put a quick stop to that with a stern command and firm grip on Medusa’s halter.

When she mounted the mare, Medusa stomped her hoof impatiently, pawing at the gravel drive. Millie ran her hand down the horse’s powerful neck.

‘You just need a nice long run to get out some of those nerves, hey girl?’ she murmured soothingly.

‘You sure you’ll be all right, Millie?’ Billy took a step back as Medusa pawed at the ground again, shifting anxiously as Millie kept her hands low, gripping with her thighs to ensure a steady seat. She would bet Medusa had a sensitive mouth and a strong will, never a good combination if the rider wasn’t skilled at guiding her mount without pulling hard on the bit.

‘I’m quite sure, Billy. I shall see you in a few hours.’ She tightened her legs and loosened the reins, giving Medusa her head and whooping as the horse leapt forward.

Billy was right. She was swift, strong, and bloody magnificent. Millie felt the thrill of flying through the air as the wind ripped through her loose chignon, pulling her hair free. She and Medusa were two wild creatures joined in will and temperament, tearing across the paddocks surrounding Alder House and heading for adventure.

Millie knew Medusa needed a long run to wear her out before she turned her toward the forest. She had been desperate to explore, but until the horse calmed, riding through such unpredictable terrain was too dangerous.

When they finally hit the tree line, she and Medusa had reached an understanding. The horse followed her direction, reading Millie’s leg pressure like a dream. The woods were thick and dark, colder without the winter sun to warm her back. But Millie felt she’d entered an ancient, magical woodland. They followed a deer trail deeper into the overgrown thicket, crashing through brambles and ferns. The scent of pine, black earth, and damp leaves comforted Millie.

Crossing a shallow brook, Millie wished she’d worn an extra layer. Snow was certainly coming soon. She couldn’t wait to explore these same paths in the heat of summer, perhaps take a sneaky dip in the babbling waters.

Glancing through the trees, there was a small clearing where an old hunting shack stood snug and neat. Smoke rose from a stone chimney. Millie wondered if Drake allowed the villagers to use it during the summer, though it seemed strange for someone to be living there now. Hunting season was well over, as most of the animals were hunkering down for winter. She urged her mount forward to investigate, but before she could get closer to the clearing, the crashing sound of another rider had Millie swinging her horse around.

Drake!

Her heart beat harder as a male rider picked through the forest toward her.

‘Miss Millicent! What the Devil are you doing out here alone?’

Not Drake.

She ignored the disappointment filling her.

‘Lord Renquist. I could ask the same of you.’ She smiled at the charming man. While she hadn’t spent much time with him, in every interaction, he’d proven to be kind and respectful. More than she could say for most men of her acquaintance.

Renquist returned her smile. His dimples flashed as his eyes, a golden colour quite striking in his tanned face, lit with humour. ‘I was running an errand for our mutual friend.’

Millie exaggerated her frown. ‘I’m not sure who you’re speaking of, sir.’

Renquist threw his head back and laughed, the strong column of his neck moving with the pleasant rumble. ‘Come, shall I ride with you back to Alder House? I’m sure your stepmother has something scintillating planned for her guests. We wouldn’t want to miss a moment.’

Rolling her eyes, Millie groaned. ‘She is awful. I would apologise, but there’s nothing I can do to stop her. She’s quite the tyrant and destined to become even more so without my presence hindering her.’

‘I don’t envy you having had to live with her. I’m sure your situation with Drake will be a vast improvement.’

Millie fell behind Renquist as the trail narrowed, making it impossible to continue their conversation until they emerged from the forest.

‘I’m not sure I agree with your earlier assessment. But you know Drake far better than me. Perhaps you can share some tips to encourage a happy union.’ Millie was only half jesting.

Renquist didn’t answer right away. A slight frown turned the corners of his mouth down. He really was a dashing young man, yet Millie felt no stirring within her as she did anytime Drake was near.

‘The war was hard on all of us, but especially a man like Drake.’ Something dark flashed in his eyes but then was gone. ‘When he returned to find his fiancée had married his brother’ – Reynard shrugged – ‘no one would take the news well. But it was harder for Drake. He’s never had an easy time trusting others. He doesn’t speak about his childhood, but I don’t think things were pleasant. I know his mother was rumoured to have affairs. His father was a stern, distant figure. And you’ve met his brother. Two siblings could not be more different.’

Millie couldn’t stop her snort of laughter. ‘Godric’s hardly equal to his brother. A fact his wife is well aware of. Drake told me about Nora. I must say, I’ll not be sad to see them both leave.’

Renquist raised a brow. ‘He told you? That’s… surprising.’ He grew silent. For a time, there was only the squeak of leather, the jangle of metal against the reins, and the wind blowing across the open fields.

‘I suppose I shouldn’t expect a close union then.’ Millie finally broke Renquist’s reverie. The idea should please her, but instead, she felt an aching loneliness. She needed a distant marriage to continue her work with Philippa, but she was begrudgingly beginning to realise she didn’t want to keep Beaufort at arm’s length. She liked the man, as infuriating as he was and as complicated as that made her situation.

Incredibly inconvenient, and all Drake’s fault.

Renquist turned to her, his amber eyes sharp. The grey sky behind him promised rain soon. Perhaps even sleet or snow. ‘Don’t give up hope, Miss Millicent. Drake has never met his equal in a woman. Until now, I think.’

‘What a thought, Lieutenant Renquist. Equality between a man and woman. It’s almost sacrilegious.’

Reynard didn’t try to hide his smile. ‘But still true. Sometimes, you are battling, which is fearsome, as either could win or both could lose. Sometimes, you are flirting. Don’t try to deny it. Your attraction for one another is impossible to ignore. Imagine if you were working together instead of against each other. The beau monde wouldn’t know what to do with the pair of you.’

Millie swallowed, taking a moment to consider his thoughts. ‘It’s a lovely idea, but in reality, it would never work.’ There was always a disparity of power in marriage. Usually, it tipped in favour of the man, but in some cases, like her father and Patricia, the woman wielded the control. Neither option resulted in a happy union. But the idea of shared autonomy, equality in partnership, or a perfect balance of power was fantasy. Only a ninny would believe in such dreams. And Millie was no ninny.

‘Well, if you want my advice – and I doubt you do but I’ll tell you anyway – never back down, Miss Millicent. Meet him on the battlefield, knowing you are his equal and acknowledging that he is yours. If soul mates are really two halves of one whole, then neither can be more powerful. Don’t you think?’

‘I think you have a poet’s soul, Lord Renquist.’

The man’s cheeks darkened, and he rolled his shoulders as though his coat was too tight. ‘My soul is steeped in darkness, Miss Millicent. Don’t go digging too deeply into that quagmire. You may never escape.’

Millie wished she could say something to comfort him, but her mind went blank.

‘Come, let us have a race home.’ Renquist broke the suddenly serious moment, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight as if he had no care in the world but to beat Millie back to Alder House. He spurred his mount on, and Millie urged Medusa to catch him. It was a wild race, but Millie beat Lord Renquist by a nose. They returned to the house together, Millie having much to think on as she excused herself to change for the afternoon’s activities.