Chapter Seventeen
“She is rather fetching, is she not?” Stephen said, stepping next to Marcus as they moved near the table in the supper room.
Marcus angled his gaze toward Milli who was standing beside Lord Hughmont. So, she had recovered enough to come down and eat? He wondered if his threat had prompted her. Or was it Hughmont?
His pale silver eyes turned to stone as he watched Hughmont’s gaze lower to the creamy expanse of skin below her neck. His hands clenched. What the devil was Hughmont doing? Milli should swat the man. Was she that oblivious?
“It looks like Hughmont thinks she’s dessert,” Marcus replied curtly.
Stephen scowled. “Who the devil does he think he is?”
“She’s an innocent,” Marcus said harshly. “I don’t like it either. But if Hughmont is our man, we have to let things take their course.”
Stephen muttered an oath. “I hope Elizabeth isn’t watching. Hughmont is acting as if he’s already her husband.”
Marcus felt his heart jolt at the thought of any man having Milli. The mere thought of his little princess with another man tugged at his very soul. He would like to pick up Hughmont by his starched cravat and throw the man out the window.
He watched as Milli’s gray eyes sparkled with life. She had swiftly changed her tune from her angry mode in her bedchambers. And that only made him more furious.
Their last kiss had turned him upside down. He had wanted to prove to himself that he could conquer his feelings for her. But it had only made things worse.
The little princess would be a Bath bride in no time if she kissed the other gentlemen with such affection. His lips thinned as he watched Hughmont sit next to her and hand her a glass of champagne.
Marcus grimaced. Lady Madeleine’s indiscretions came back to haunt him. But Milli was nothing like her, he thought. His little princess didn’t hide her actions at all. Milli was not afraid to do what she wanted, when she wanted.
“I think you have a problem,” Marcus finally said as he watched Hughmont bend toward Milli again.
Stephen jerked his gaze toward his brother. “Me? I thought we were all in on this plan?”
Marcus scowled. “But you are her guardian. Go take that champagne from her hand and eject Hughmont from his seat. Better yet, eject him from the ball.”
“I want to,” Stephen said, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, how I want to.”
Stephen glanced at his wife, then back at Milli. “But I cannot. Shelby’s murderer is out there, and we must find him. We have to give the man, whoever he is, a bit of rope to hang himself. With Elizabeth all worried about Milli’s suitors, and then, keeping an eye on you, not knowing when the villain will strike, I find myself in quite a dilemma.”
Marcus glowered at the sight of Milli chatting with another gentleman. Men flocked to her like bees to honey. “I don’t believe you need to keep an eye on me. I doubt the culprit will use poison this time. In fact, it will be more subtle. Like a carriage accident.”
“Hell’s teeth, how could you talk like that?”
“I don’t have a care about what he will do to me. What the devil do you think he will do when he has Milli under his power?”
Stephen paled. “I hope Elizabeth never discovers what we are doing. If she does, she will attach herself to Milli’s side until this is over. That will only make her a target too.”
Marcus grabbed a plate of ham and peas. “We may never discover the villain if I don’t push the matter. This is what we agreed to do, so confound it, let me do it.”
Stephen grabbed a plate and shoved Marcus aside to plop a piece of beef onto his plate. “Why don’t you marry Milli and save us all this trouble?”
Marcus almost dropped his food. “What?”
Stephen’s eyes glittered with challenge. “Yes, then when you are killed, we could investigate further.”
Marcus slapped some beef onto his dish. “You would allow me to marry her then?”
“Are you interested?”
Marcus hands tightened on his plate as he listened to Milli’s alluring laughter. “She’s drinking too much.”
Stephen piled on a mountain of peas. “We are here to protect her. I doubt a little champagne will go to her head.”
Clayton stepped between them. “Hell’s bells, Stephen. Milli’s drinking too much. Go over there and grab her glass. Hughmont and Valford keep refilling it.”
Stephen pulled at his jacket. “I think I can handle one small female.”
Roderick walked up to the group, a frown settling across his face. “I believe the girl is trying to prove something. The question is, are we going to let her?”
Marcus caught sight of Valford taking a seat on the other side of her. Like Hughmont, the man let his gaze wander over Milli’s bodice. He gritted his teeth. “He’s treating her like an actress back stage at Drury Lane.”
His brothers turned. “What?”
“Valford,” Marcus spat. “Look at him.”
The gentlemen shifted their gaze back to Milli only to see Valford glaring at her creamy white skin.
“The cad.”
“The cur!”
“The rotten scoundrel.”
The duke swore, taking a step in that direction, but Stephen held him back. “Thunderation,” Stephen uttered. “She is my ward. I shall take care of the matter directly.”
Marcus dropped his plate to the table. “No. I will take care of the matter. It fits well with our plans, does it not?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He strode directly to Valford’s side and whispered in the man’s ear. The small man’s face turned an ugly shade of red. He abruptly rose and left the supper room as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Marcus let out a wicked smile as he took the vacant seat with Milli none the wiser.
“Oh, I think it would be wonderful,” Milli said to Hughmont, taking another sip of her champagne. She giggled and turned toward the man on the other side of her. “And what do you think about Paris in the spring, Lord Valford?”
“Paris in the spring is for the birds.”
Milli blinked. “Oh, I, uh...I thought you were Lord Valford.”
Marcus shot her an unwavering stare. “I believe I am a bit taller than the man.”
Milli blushed.
Hughmont leaned over the table, staring at Marcus. “I thought you had other plans tonight.”
Marcus popped an olive into his mouth. “No other plans that I know about.”
“Why don’t you take supper with the general’s daughter? Miss Canton is casting covert glances as we speak.”
Milli stiffened and took another sip of champagne. “Lord Hughmont, would you pour me some more champagne, please? I have a great thirst tonight.”
Marcus could see the defiance in her posture. “I think you have had enough.”
Milli scowled, her gray eyes blazing. “I daresay, Lord Marcus, you can think all you want. But it won’t change my mind.” She sighed dramatically. “La, the mind is but the union of two souls, thinking and working together in unison. It is not for the negativity of love.”
Hughmont let out a cackle of laughter. “She has you there.”
Marcus glared at the man, keeping his amusement to himself. What the devil was the female reciting? He didn’t think she knew either.
“Take a look across the room,” he said to Hughmont. “If you dare pour her any more of that champagne, my brothers, Stonebridge, and I will have you drawn and quartered.”
The blond man paled. “I say, that is not civil.”
Marcus shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Milli gave her back to Marcus. She grabbed the champagne bottle and poured the liquid into her glass herself. “He has nothing to say about it, John.”
“John?” Marcus asked, almost smiling at her defiance. “You are quite familiar with the man.”
Milli waved her hand, wobbling a bit. “Oh, go and make Miss Canton happy. She has been ogling you all evening.”
Marcus felt his anger rising. She wouldn’t even look at him. Unless he wanted to make a grand scene in front of Jane’s guests, he had best leave Milli to an aching head tomorrow. Valford was gone. Hughmont was a twit, and his brothers were watching the two with eagle eyes.
“Very well, Millicent. Don’t say I did not warn you.” His chair scraped against the floor, and he stood, making his way toward the general’s daughter.
Milli almost choked on her champagne when Marcus strode directly to Miss Canton’s side. “How old is she?” she asked Lord Hughmont. She could not believe Marcus was trying to tell her what she could drink. Who did he think he was? My goodness, her head felt a bit dizzy. This was the first time she ever had more than one glass of champagne.
Hughmont smiled, watching the scene unfold. “Oh, Miss Canton? She’s an old maid. Almost twenty-five, at least.”
Milli’s eyes narrowed on the couple as Marcus took the lady’s hand and kissed it. Jealousy rushed through Milli’s veins. She grabbed another glass of champagne as Bennington took Marcus’s empty seat.
“Have you tasted the lemon cake, my dear?”
Milli shot a grin in Bennington’s direction. The man was almost as tall as Marcus, with powerful shoulders and sandy brown hair. “No, I have not tried any of the cakes.”
“Ah, then perhaps you would like a taste of mine?” He lifted a spoonful from his plate for Milli to taste.
She caught Marcus looking her way and let Bennington feed her. She batted her large gray eyes at the man in the most flirtatious manner she could. “I declare, that is quite delicious.”
He beamed with pleasure. “So glad you enjoyed it. Would you like me to fetch you an entire piece, my dear?”
Hughmont leaned forward. “If anyone is going to fetch Millicent anything, it will be me.”
Bennington’s face turned hard. “If you think—“
Milli touched Bennington’s hand. “I believe Lord Hughmont should fetch my cake, do you not?” Her smile widened in adoration.
The man blushed. “Well, well, anything you want, my dear.”
Lord Hughmont went off in a wake of triumph. “I shall return in no time.”
Milli felt rather exhilarated when Marcus kept darting curt glances her way. She turned her attention back to Bennington. The champagne made her feel, well, rather daring tonight and a bit lightheaded.
She picked at her skirt, trying to gather her thoughts. Things felt a bit off. “Do you mind taking a stroll outside, sir? Perhaps some cool air will clear my head. I was there earlier and found the freshness of the outdoors did help.”
Lord Bennington looked her over in an appreciative manner. “Say no more, Miss Millicent. I would be delighted. There is a nice little maze where we can lose ourselves.”
The man took her by her arm, and they slipped outside.
Milli was vaguely thinking over her words. The freshness of the outdoors did help. In the vague recesses of her mind, she realized that was not quite true. Going outside with any gentlemen always proved hazardous lately.
Oh, dear, she thought as she swayed against Bennington’s side, perhaps this wasn’t the wisest decision she had ever made. And what had he said about the maze?
She giggled. Well, drat. She would just blame it on that silly champagne. She had seen the maze and it was nothing special at all.
“Lord Marcus, I am delighted my father had business in Bath.” Miss Canton fluttered her fan about her beautiful face, then snapped it closed. “The Duchess was so kind to invite us to the festivities this month. Of course, I knew you would be here.”
Marcus let out a devilish smile. “Miss Canton, your presence brightens any event you attend.”
The lady let out a sly grin, tapping his shoulder with her fan. “You do say the prettiest things to me. I daresay you spoil me as much as my father.”
Marcus looked over his shoulder to see Clayton mimicking the lady. Lord Marcus, his brother mouthed, batting his eyes and splaying his fingers like a fan, you do say the prettiest things to me.
Marcus’s lips curled into a grimace. Where the devil was Milli? His dimwitted brothers were supposed to be watching over her, not him!
“The table is quite the spread,” Miss Canton said, slipping her arm in his.
Marcus turned back to her. “You will have to forgive me. I thought one of my brothers wanted me. Evidently, he had his thoughts on something else. Well, I hope you have brought an appetite.”
He led the lady to the food table that was lined with a multitude of meats, cheeses, fruit, potatoes, peas and a dessert platter.
“A little meat and cheese, if you please,” Miss Canton said primly. “Oh, and perhaps a small slice of cake. The duchess is such a wonderful host.”
Marcus agreed, but inwardly, he was wondering where the devil that mischievous female had gone to now. He should never have left Milli’s side.
He glanced at Stephen who was talking to Roderick. They seemed oblivious to the missing girl. Lord Hughmont was speaking to Captain Argyle and Lord Valford. Breadford was engaged in conversation with the duchess. Where was Bennington? Had he left? Or was he with Milli? No, she would not have the gall to enter those gardens again. Not after her last fiasco.
His muscles stiffened. And where the blue blazes was Knightengale?
He tried catching the attention of Clayton or Stonebridge with a curt glance in their direction. Nothing.
Thunderation! What the devil were they thinking? Did they believe he needed four confounded bodyguards?
His concerned gaze wandered over the desserts as Miss Canton talked about her father’s work. Perhaps, Milli had retired to her chambers. That had to be it.
“My father says that he may have that position for you if you are still interested. It seems the Home Office needs a man in the Americas, someone who can aid the Crown.”
“I see.”
Confound it! Where was that woman? His worried gaze traveled over the room. He didn’t see Hughmont either. He caught Jane’s smiling face as she sat with Elizabeth.
“The Duchess is such a dear,” Miss Canton said, following the direction of his gaze.
“Yes, she is.”
The lady turned to him and lowered her voice. “I hear she lost a baby.”
Marcus’s hand stopped over the food. He glanced up at Miss Canton, his eyes sharp. “The subject is not something she likes to talk about. Frankly, it’s not something Society should be talking about either.”
Miss Canton colored. “Forgive me. I was only trying to say how wonderful she looked after such . . . well, you know.”
“I know,” Marcus said, feeling a bit guilty. The woman probably knew more than he wanted, but it wasn’t her fault. Society liked to talk about anyone’s pain as long as it wasn’t their own.
“Let us change the subject then,” Miss Canton said with a light laugh. “It’s quite the talk that the Clearbrooks are trying to find a husband for little Millicent. She is such a small female. I daresay it is a wonder the girl is even eighteen. Looks more like a child to me. Rather scrawny, is she not?” Miss Canton gave a careless shrug. “But she is an heiress, after all. I suppose that balances any faults. She is quite a bold little thing they say.”
Marcus’s eyes went up. “I find no faults with her person and hold her in the highest regard.”
The lady chuckled. “Lord Marcus, I am a bit older and a bit wiser than Miss Millicent Shelby, and I have not the dowry she has. So, I will be honest. I want to marry you, and you know it. I have had my pick of gentleman, but they do not hold a candle to you.”
Marcus stared at her. “I like an honest woman.”
He had to admit, the lady was candid and pretty. It was a hard combination to find in the ton these days. Of course, Milli was candid and pretty in her own way, he thought, his mind wondering where she had gone. But with his brothers and Stonebridge still watching, he could only conclude that she had retired.
“Papa wants me to marry Lord Gadonwood,” Miss Canton said, brushing up against him. “But he likes you too. You are my first choice.”
Marcus lowered her plate and took her hand. If it weren’t for that little termagant’s disappearance, he could think through this better. “I won’t vow to love you, Miss Canton.”
She smiled nervously. “La, love is for people who are not right in their minds. Money, power, good looks, that is what makes the world go round, don’t you think?”
Marcus barely heard what the woman was saying. His glance moved over his brothers. Clayton was whispering something to his wife. Briana kissed him on the cheek and gazed lovingly into his eyes. Emily and Stonebridge stood hand in hand, brushing up against each other, as if there were no one else in the room. Stephen was gazing into Elizabeth’s face that was glazed over with adoration. And then there was the duke.
What the devil was wrong with him? Roderick was scowling at Captain Argyle as the man bent over Jane’s ears, making her laugh. Yet his brother was doing nothing but standing there, letting the handsome captain woo the duchess as if the lady were not married at all.
“Lord Marcus?” Miss Canton asked again. “Do you not think that’s true?”
What the devil was she talking about? “Yes and no,” he responded.
She pursed her pretty lips. “But I thought we were in agreement.”
Marcus smiled at her. “In many things. But I daresay a few more weeks should be enough time before we decide.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I see,” she whispered. “You have no wish to trump Millicent Shelby’s situation.”
He nodded. But his gut was telling him the little princess was not sleeping. He could not sit here and eat lemon cakes when Milli was trying out her womanly wiles on some murderer.
He gave Miss Canton a seat near Breadford. He glanced over his shoulders toward the back doors, making his excuses to the lady. Breadford seemed to join in the conversation with Miss Canton easily enough. Marcus sent Stephen a menacing glare as he left the room.
He would have to see for himself if the villain had taken the bait or not.
Milli hiccupped. “I think . . . I think I have had too much to dink.”
Hughmont laughed. “To drink.”
“That too. How long have we been outside? I think I’ve been here before.” She blinked past the evergreens, recalling Marcus holding her in his arms. She frowned. She was supposed to be mad at him. “Is this a dream?”
“You’ve been here ten minutes.”
“Oh.” She squinted in the dark. A sliver of moonbeams fingered onto the stone walkway as they stood by a wooden bench inside the maze. “What happened to that other man?”
Hughmont scoffed. “Took care of Bennington. I was to be your escort. Not that nincompoop.”
She nodded, feeling woozy. “I sssss . . . see.”
Hughmont took her hand in his. She felt her lips turning numb as she tried to smile, and his face was starting to blur. Too much champagne, she figured, eying the glass in her other hand.
“Miss Millicent, do you think you could ever love me?”
She hiccupped again, feeling rather ill. The fresh air hit her like a splash of water. “I do love you . . .” She burped, her eyes going wide. “Oh, excuse me.”
He squeezed her hand. “You love me then?”
“L-like . . .a brother.” Another burp. “Oh, forgive me. Not feeling so well. Feel a bit wooooooozy.” She swayed and Hughmont sat her on the bench.
He sighed, sitting next to her. “Well, I thought we had something special.”
“We did. We do.” She hiccupped again and put her drink on the ground beside her feet. “I daresay, I think . . . I th-think I should stop drinking this.”
“Oh, Millicent.” The next moment, Hughmont crushed his mouth against hers.
Milli felt dazed and a little numb from the night air and the drink. She pulled back, looking up at him, her brows frowning. “Wh-what play was that from?”
He snickered. “Romeo and Juliet.”
She shrugged, leaning against the bench. “Oooh, there is an evergreen poking at me. It is ever so prickly.”
Hughmont’s hand trailed up her arm. “‘These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triump die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.’”
“Romeo and Juliet?” she remarked, leaning over her feet and staring at her glass. Or was it two glasses?
Hughmont grinned. “Indeed. Do you have any idea how pretty you are, Miss Millicent?”
She frowned, closing her eyes. “He doesn’t . . .” Hiccup. “Think so.”
She squinted, feeling herself sway. “Do you know there are two of you? I don’t recall two Romeos?”
“Who doesn’t think you are pretty? I will call the man out.”
Milli bent down and picked up her glass, emptying the contents, then shoving the glass in his chest. “Can you fill that again? I didn’t want it to spill. But it makes me forget.”
Hughmont looked at her, confusion crossing his face. “I don’t think that would be wise.”
She batted her long, dark lashes at him. “Please? I think I might cry if you don’t.”
He shot upward. “I say, don’t want that. I shall return as quickly as I can.” He lifted her legs, placing them on the bench. “Now don’t move an inch.”
She leaned against the bench. “Y-you could help me, you know. “
Hughmont turned. “What?”
“I love h-him. I want to marry him.”
Hughmont’s mouth tightened. “We’ll see about that.” And then he was gone.
Milli was feeling sick to her stomach. She shivered as a sour taste crept into her mouth. The air smelled stale, and something smelled very rotten. Besides that, her forehead was sweating, and there was a chill in the air.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them away.
Marcus was paying attention to that lady and shoving her to the wolves. That was his plan, was it not? Her suitors were fighting like animals for her attention.
She closed her eyes to the shadows in the maze, trying to think.
Who was that other man? The big man. Nightenheart? No. Eveningale? No. Knightsbridge? No, no. Knightengale? Yes, she thought, feeling herself drifting in a dream. She liked him best. Besides Marcus, of course. Lord Hughmont was sweet, but there was something about him that made her uneasy. He liked acting too much.
She sighed and looked up at the moon. My goodness, there were double moons tonight. How very odd.
She let her head drop to the bench and curled herself into a ball. The cold air was making her shiver.
She thought about her list of suitors. Valford, Bennington and Breadford were too old, too fat, and too smelly. Now, which one was too smelly?
She giggled. She didn’t know how she remembered their names. She needed another drink of champagne. Maybe it would make her warmer.
“Miss Millicent, may I help you?”
Milli blinked, seeing a huge shadow in front of her. “Oh,” she hiccupped. “I was dreaming about you. How did you find me? The maze is . . . a maze.” She giggled.
Knightengale snorted in amusement. “I think you have had too much to drink, my girl.”
She swayed as she tried to stand. Without warning, the big man picked her up, cradling her in the circle of his arms. “Steady there.”
She hung onto his neck. “I don’t think this is p-proper.” She snuggled against his neck. He smelled nice. He wasn’t the smelly one.
“Ah, little one, what do you want me to do?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. M-Marcus doesn’t l-love me.”
“Let me take care of you, then.” The big man lifted her chin with his finger and looked into her eyes. He lowered his head, letting his mouth cover hers.
She blinked, feeling smothered. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t like this.
“Let her go.”
Milli felt her world spin as the big man turned.
“Ah, Marcus, good friend, I thought you had the general’s daughter in your pocket?”
Milli lifted her head. “Oh, hello.” There was something in Marcus’s face that made her sad. Where was she?
“You are foxed to the gills, Milli. You need to retire to your room. Now.”
“What?” she squeaked, leaning against a powerful chest. She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Why was she in this big man’s arms? Was there a fox roaming the area?
“Miss Millicent, here is your champagne—”
Milli lifted her head, trying to focus. Lord Hughmont was scowling, and holding a glass of something bubbly. Oh, yes, she had asked him to get her another drink. She peered up at Knightengale. “Hello.”
He smiled down at her. “Hello.”
She blinked and shifted a woozy gaze toward Marcus. “Hello to you too. Do you know how to get out of this maze?” She giggled.
Marcus lifted two angry black brows and glowered at her.
Her fuzzy mind registered that Marcus didn’t like the big man holding her so close. “Um, sir, if you would please put me down.”
“Whatever you wish.” Knightengale gently lowered her to the ground, steadying her. As soon as his hands left her, Milli swayed.
Marcus muttered something and rushed to her side, his hand at her backside. He glared at Knightengale. “Devil take it! The lady has had too much to drink, and you have taken advantage of that fact!”
A few feet away, Hughmont stood motionless, glass in hand.
Milli blinked past a swaying world. She swallowed, feeling the warmth of Marcus’s hold. She glanced at Knightengale and Hughmont who looked uneasy.
“It is pref—pefectly accep . . . table,” she remarked. “Marcus is my guardian’s brother. He has no d-designs on me whatsoever.” She nodded, pleased with herself that she could communicate so well. It looked like there was an army of the same men. How strange.
Knightengale looked at Marcus. “Do you need any help?”
Marcus shook his head, clasping Milli’s waist in a tight hold. She could tell it was him by the way her skin tingled.
“Until tomorrow, Miss Millicent,” Hughmont said gently.
“Tomorrow?” she said, leaning against Marcus. “What is tomorrow?”
“We are going to the book shop to pick up the other plays, remember?”
She nodded, her head swimming in champagne. “Tomorrow, then?”
She leaned against Marcus’s chest as the men left the garden. “I feel quite f-funny.”
He wrapped his other arm around her. “Confound it. Why don’t you just choose one of them and get it over with?”
She understood that clear to her bones. She looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “Choose one of them? But I love you . . . and only you. I never stopped . . . loving you.”
He swallowed, setting her way from him. “Milli—”
She climbed onto the bench with his hands still steadying her.
“Millicent, get down from there. I don’t want to have to haul you over my shoulders.”
She put a hand to his lips, feeling quite bold. “Stop t-talking and kiss me.” She fell into his arms and pressed her lips to his with a hunger she had hidden for years.
“You little she-devil,” he mumbled, kissing her back
His hands slid down her back, holding her to him. Her blood began to sing as the sweetness of his lips engulfed her entire being. She ached for him. The feel of his strong body pressed against hers made her feel warm and safe. The other kisses were good, but this was beautiful.
“Goodness,” she said, catching her breath. “I never knew it could be like that. Is that what champagne does?”
Marcus stared at her as if she had purple dots on her face. “You will think differently tomorrow.”
She felt her lips turn upward as she leaned into him. “I will always love you.”
He moved his hands to her hips. “Milli, we—”
“If y-you would help me to my bedchambers, I w-would be forever grateful . . . I truly believe . . . I am going to be s-sick.”
Marcus frowned and moved with the utmost haste. She closed her eyes while his cursing rang in her ears. “Hold on.”
“I think you carried me before like this. Didn’t you? We are entering by the back way. How very romantic.” She burped. “Ah, excuse me.”
He plopped her onto her bed and put a rag to her head. “Shall I fetch your maid?”
She shook her head and winced. “No . . . j-just leave me alone. I n-need to rest.” Her mind was starting to clear, but her head hurt. She had thrown herself at him, and he, the gentleman that he was, could not push her away. She understood that much.
He stared at her, as if afraid to leave her.
She waved her hand to make him go. “M-make my apologies to Jane. I know you hated bringing me here.” She turned her head to the side, not willing to look at him. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she dare not let him see. “P-please, just go away.”
She heard his relieved breath, his heavy footsteps, and then the door closing.
With a sob, she turned into her pillow and cried. Cleo eased her way onto the bed and nudged her.
Milli cried harder. “Where were you when I needed you? I think I am going to be sick.”