Chapter Twenty-Three
Marcus strode into the Bath home and stared in the mirror, frowning as his black hair gleamed against the candlelight. The scent of lavender spiked his senses. He dropped his gaze and noticed a pair of lady’s gloves resting on the hall table. He picked them up, brought them to his nose and smiled. The little princess had forgotten them.
He slipped the gloves into his pocket, looking up as Cleo padded down the stairs. “Ah, I assume your mistress is not far behind?”
The cat crept up to him and purred, curling about his ankle.
His black brows lifted in surprise. “Oh, so now you wish to be friendly, eh?”
“Hello, Uncle Marcus!”
Marcus turned to see a pink bonnet bobbing up and down the hall as Gabby ran toward him.
His silver eyes twinkled. “Aren’t you to be in bed, little queen?”
She tugged on his hand. “I saw the prince outside my window,” she whispered. “But he looked mean. I think he is the black prince. You need to make him go away.”
Marcus’s lips curled into a genuine smile as he tied her dressing gown tighter about her waist. “The black prince? You mean, the dastardly, evil villain who kidnaps the lovely and beautiful princess in the tower?”
She scowled, slapping at his hands. “You are laughing at me. You don’t believe me. I am not a baby!”
He knelt down and fixed her bonnet. The girl was adorable. “Of course, I believe you. But I have business with the duke.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, very well. I forgive you.”
Marcus straightened. “Why, thank you.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Do you know, I don’t think that prince is a prince at all?”
“Ah,” he said, smothering a laugh. “I don’t think so either.”
Her eyes beamed with delight. “He is a frog,” she whispered.
Marcus brushed a hand through her curls and clenched his teeth to keep from laughing. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings again, but thunderation, she was becoming more like Milli everyday. “Scoot up to bed, poppet. Your mother won’t be happy if she finds you missing.”
“Oh, she knows I’m looking for my prince. I have five minutes before she comes to get me. I better run!” Her little feet slapped down the hall toward the kitchen with Cleo not far behind.
He chuckled. He shook his head and entered the duke’s study where Roderick and Stephen were waiting.
“So,” Stephen said, handing him a snifter of brandy. “You did the deed.”
Marcus narrowed his gaze and grimaced, saying nothing.
The duke shook his head and scowled. “Why the devil would you offer for that woman when you could have something better?”
Marcus took a sip of his drink.
Stephen clanked his glass on the desk and swore. “Confound it! I believed you the smartest of all the brothers, but now, I believe you are the stupidest Clearbrook I have ever met!”
Marcus pursed his lips just as Clayton walked past the door with a dark expression clouding his handsome features.
“So, you did it,” Clayton said furiously, taking in the faces of the other men. “You offered for the general’s daughter.”
Marcus opened his mouth, but was halted as Stonebridge stomped into the room. “For the love of King George, why would you do something so stupid? You don’t love Miss Canton.”
Marcus slapped his snifter onto the desk. “Do you mind if I say a word in my defense?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
Stephen glowered at him. “You must have a hole in your head.”
“Do you want a hole in your head?” Marcus asked, his voice clipped.
Stephen threw his hands in the air. “I cannot believe you are my brother. You played with Milli’s affections. Elizabeth is lived. Milli is—”
“Gone!” came Elizabeth’s voice as she exploded into the room. “She’s gone!”
Marcus grabbed his sister-in-law. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
Elizabeth’s eyes were wild with panic. “She ran off with Lord Knightengale.”
“That’s preposterous,” Clayton said. “Knightengale would never do such a thing.”
Elizabeth hands were shaking. “Milli’s maid delivered a note to Knightengale less than two hours ago. The girl was feeling a bit guilty when she saw the window open in Milli’s room and the curtain half ripped from its holder.” Elizabeth let out a sob. “And now Milli is no where to be found.”
A sudden hush came over the room as the reality of the facts finally sank in.
Stephen strode toward his wife and pulled her close. “There, there. We shall find her.”
“He’s off to Gretna Green,” Marcus said harshly, feeling his entire world crumbling. Had he pushed Milli into that man’s hands? He would never forgive himself.
“Your Grace.” All heads turned as the butler walked into the room. He handed the duke a letter. “Came by special messenger only minutes ago.”
The duke grimaced and handed the note to Marcus. “Open it. It has the name of the killer. The Home Office was trying to keep things quiet. I knew the web was wider than they thought. I sent for the information as soon as we heard they had a man in custody. In fact, I demanded to know the man’s name immediately.”
Marcus put the letter aside. “I don’t have time—”
“Open it,” the duke snapped. “If I it is who I think it is, Milli is in more danger than I thought.”
Marcus paled. He slipped his finger over the seal and opened the missive. “Hell’s teeth!” He looked up. “Knightengale’s father confessed to killing William Shelby.”
Elizabeth gasped and buried her head in her husband’s chest. “Oh, Stephen.”
Marcus read the rest of the letter, wanting to tear Knightengale to shreds. “The man also admits his son was involved. Seems they owed Shelby a good sum, and were up the River Tick. They could not pay their vowels. Their I.O.U’s were rampant in London. They mortgaged most of the lands that were not entailed. In essence, they were dead broke.”
His face became a mask of rage as he passed the paper to Stephen. “It seems they were waiting until Milli turned eighteen, so they could have access to her inheritance.”
“He is going to marry Milli, then kill her,” Elizabeth screamed. She tugged at Stephen’s cravat. “Do something. Oh, poor Milli. I’ll go myself. I can ride.”
Stephen’s eyes had turned black with fury as gazed at Marcus and patted his wife’s shoulders. “We will get Milli back, dear. But you will not ride.”
Clayton grabbed the letter, looked it over, and scowled. “I don’t understand. He knows we would kill him if he touches a hair on her head.”
Marcus could hear his heart beat against his chest as he stared out the window where the moon peeked past the clouds. He had been a fool. He had underestimated Knightengale, and now Milli’s life was in danger. “He may travel to America or somewhere in the new world. The man may believe we won’t find him. Who knows, he may take Milli with him. He cannot kill her until he has all her money.”
Elizabeth sobbed. “Oh, Stephen, do something!”
“Knightengale isn’t thinking correctly,” Stonebridge chimed in. “He must know we would be on to him, sooner or later. We would never give in. He must be insane.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know his father confessed,” Stephen said, patting his wife’s back. “But I’ll kill the man when I find him.”
Marcus grimaced. “Not unless I find him first.”
“But what if he didn’t take her to Gretna?” the duke replied.
Clayton frowned. “Perhaps south, to France?”
Marcus couldn’t get Milli’s huge gray eyes out of his mind. His gut coiled in dread. He wished he had told her he wanted to marry her. “I’m going north to Gretna. Clayton you take south to France. “
Stonebridge nodded, his face hard. “I’ll take west. But the man may have headed back to London.”
“I’ll take London,” the duke snapped.
Stephen frowned, looking at Elizabeth. “I think it best if I go with Marcus. If that is their direction, I believe Knightengale will take the back roads to avoid us. He will need to stay the night somewhere, at least for a few hours. Change horses, eat . . .”
The rest was left unsaid. Elizabeth’s blue eyes rounded with fear. “The night? What in the world will Milli do if—”
“Don’t even think it,” Marcus snapped. “I will find her.”
I must find her.
Milli kept her tears in check, not giving Knightengale the satisfaction of knowing he had bested her. If the man ever guessed how terrified she was, there was no telling what he would do. At the moment, he knew she was ready to fight for her life, and that was probably saving her from other things.
The driver wouldn’t make a move without Knightengale’s command, so even if she screamed, all she would get was a slap to the face. The man was more than twice her size. Her cheek still ached from his blow.
Knightengale gripped her chin in a painful hold. “We will be stopping at an inn, and if you say one word to anyone, you will regret it. Do you understand?”
Milli nodded, feeling more determined than ever.
His lips tipped into a wicked looking smile. “Most women would fall into hysterics, but not you. I believe that’s why I like you.”
Like her? How dare he try to manipulate her. He had killed Papa! Her courage came back like a roaring lion. If she could get a note to one of the innkeepers, then she could have a chance.
“And don’t even think of getting a note off to anyone. You will have no pen, no paper. I will make certain of that. And we will be staying in the same room.”
Here eyes widened. She could not hide her fear at that comment.
He squeezed her chin, making her look at him. “We are going to be married, so what does it matter, my little prude?”
“It matters,” she snapped. “You will never get away with this. Just let me go.”
“And leave you?” he asked with a sadistic chuckle. “I find you rather fetching, in an innocent sort of way. We will do well together . . . if you do what I say . . . and eventually, you will do what I say.”
She clenched her teeth, listening to the rattling of the carriage wheels. Anger swelled in her breast. Papa! Papa! Papa! He had killed her Papa!
“Ah, here we are,” he announced as the carriage slowed. “And yes, I have thought about the Clearbrooks coming after us. But I have paid the innkeepers to keep their silence. And this carriage is hired, like many of the other carriages at the inns. It will take your dear family a day or two to check every place along the way. By that time, we will be well underway.”
“They will find us. And you will regret this.”
He sneered, grabbing her shoulders. “You forget. I know Marcus and his brothers. He will look along the main road and then the back roads. But I have been planning this for two years. My men will send someone ahead to alert the innkeepers we are coming. They will keep silent upon our arrival. No one will ever find us.” His vile snicker sent shivers of fear down her spine. “In fact, I have left a trail that we have traveled south and are taking a ship to France.”
Milli paled at his words. She clenched her gown, determined not to be defeated.
“Sadly,” he continued, “whether we continue on the road or not, no one will want you, not even your precious Lord Marcus. Your reputation will be ruined. You will be gone overnight, my girl, nothing can save you from that. You will have to marry me, even if they find you.”
The carriage door opened. Moonlight slipped past the clouds, illuminating the shabby building. The thatched roof needed repairs, as did the windows and surrounding yard. Milli’s heart sank when she realized the lodging was off the main road. Her family would never find this, and what he said was true. She would be ruined either way. Whether he touched her or not, her absence tonight would seal her fate.
Knightengale yanked her from the carriage and kept a tight hold on her waist as they entered the inn. Without speaking to anyone, he hurried her up the stairs and shoved her into the chambers at the end of the hall. He quickly stuffed a rag into her mouth, tying it in back of her head.
His eyes darkened. “Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am going to have to bind you to the bed while I take a stretch of my legs.”
Her muffled voice only made him snort with laughter. He jerked her wrists, tied them together, then fastened her to the bedpost. His smile made her ill.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be gone but fifteen minutes.” He turned and closed the door behind him.
Milli couldn’t stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. How had it ever come to this? She felt she was in some Minerva novel, being held in a castle with the evil villain. She would have laughed at the folly of her adventures if things weren’t so dire.
She shifted her gaze to the window and held back a sob, not wanting to choke. The moon was a small lantern hanging above the little inn. It was perhaps two o’clock in the morning, a time when everyone was asleep. Her body ached and weariness claimed her. But she could not close her eyes. There had to be some way to stop Knightengale.
It seemed like hours, but it must have been only minutes when she heard heavy footsteps outside her room. That was no mere maid. The steps were too powerful. Too fast.
Her heart thundered in her ears. She had to have a plan. She decided to flop to the ground, and instantly felt a burning pain shoot up her arms as they stretched from the post. She closed her eyes, trying to appear dead. The door handle wiggled. She held her breath. Maybe this was a time her acting would eventually save her life.
The door whooshed open.
“Millicent!” Knightengale let out a string of curses as he crossed the floor and slapped her cheek. “Confound it! Wake up!”
It took all her willpower not to wince. She was as limp as a rag doll. But she managed a groan, keeping her eyes closed tight.
“Heaven help me, Millicent. I didn’t mean to do this to you. You poor thing. I only meant to scare you. I needed you.”
You beast, she wanted to say, but stayed silent as he untied her wrists. He started rubbing her hands. “Wake up, sweetheart. We can be happy. We can. Please, wake up.”
She bit down hard on the back of her teeth. Wake up? So, she could marry him? She thought not!
“We will do well together, you will see.”
Ha! You won’t obtain one single guinea of my money, you beast!
Knightengale cursed a blue streak as he picked her up, settling her on the bed. She kept her eyes closed. But it was hard not to squirm when he put a hand on her chest to feel her heart.
“Alive,” he muttered to himself. “Now what the devil do I do?” With another oath, he left the room, calling for his driver.
Milli sat up, her head pounding with thoughts of escape. She pulled the rag from her mouth and jumped off the bed, starting for the window, but suddenly heard him coming. She looked around and hurried toward door, wishing she had something hard to whack over his head. The fire poker! She crossed the room to grab it.
The door flew open.
“Well, well, not the fainting chit I thought I would find, are you, sweetheart?” Knightengale blocked the doorway, looking as dangerous as a snarling wolf.
She raised the poker over her shoulder. “Come near me, and I shall hit you!”
He took a step toward her, chuckling. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, even if you tried.”
Her eyes shot daggers. “I may not kill you, but believe me, it will hurt!”
He froze, glaring down at her. “Put the poker down, Millicent. Let us talk about this!”
“Ha! And I’m the king of England! You beast!”
His eyes gleamed with rage. “You are a blasted bother, did you know that?”
“And you are a killer, did you know that?”
He moved fast, but Milli was ready for him. She swung hard and smacked his head. He fell like a sack of flour. She dropped the poker and ran around him, heading for the door.
A strong hand grabbed her ankle, jerking her down. “I have you now, you little monster!”
She shrieked.
“Shut up!” He whipped her onto her back and hovered over her while blood ran down his forehead. “You little witch. I’ll show you what a man is.”
“You are no man!” She scratched at his face, kicking and screaming like a banshee.
He swept her from the floor, holding her away from him. She continued her struggle, trying to break free.
Curses flew from his lips. “Now, you’ve made me angry.”
She screamed again, hoping that someone would hear her. He shook her. She was stunned, but fury surged through her, giving her energy. She kicked him again, making contact with his knee.
“You little vixen!” He shifted her to his hip, squeezing her waist. “You’ll think twice about—”
“I think that is quite enough!”
The familiar voice caught Milli by surprise. She lifted her head. “Marcus!”
Knightengale dropped her to the floor. She turned, watching in shocked horror as the man reached for a pistol in his pocket. “Marcus! He has—”
Marcus had a pistol of his own and pulled the trigger, slamming Knightengale in the shoulder. The man moaned, falling to the floor. Milli scrambled to grab his weapon, her blood pumping furiously.
Trembling, she held Knightengale’s pistol to the man’s head. Her body hummed with vengeance. “You killed my father, you despicable beast! I should shoot you right now!”
“Milli,” Marcus said cautiously. “Let me have the gun.”
She looked up at Marcus, her bottom lip quivering. “He killed Papa! This is loaded and I aim to use it!”
“I didn’t,” Knightengale shouted.
“You planned his murder,” Milli said, her hands shaking like a leaf as she continued pointing the gun at the man. “You deserve to die. Say your prayers!”
To Milli’s surprise, the big man started whimpering. “Marcus, tell her. Tell her it would be murder.”
Marcus let out a frustrated sigh. “It would be murder, Milli. I could have shot him through the heart, but I didn’t. You know I can hit a fly at twenty paces.”
Milli looked up and gave him a shaky smile. “I know.” She handed Marcus the gun. “I just wanted him to suffer a bit. My acting worked, did it not? ”
She stood there, feeling battered and bruised. It was as if she had been thrown into a nightmare.
“What the devil!” Stephen exploded into the room, a pistol by his side. He looked at Knightengale bleeding on the floor. “Thunderation, Milli, are you all right?”
She nodded, finally feeling the stress of the last few hours catching up to her. “I, uh, pretended to swoon.” She let out a tired laugh and pointed to Knightengale. “He . . . he actually believed it.” And then she crumpled to the floor.
Minutes later, after Knightengale was tied up in another room, Stephen argued with Marcus that he should be the one to stay with Milli. But Marcus had explained that Shelby was Stephen’s father-in-law, and as such, he should be the one to bring in the murderer.
“I fail to see what that has to do with it,” Stephen snapped, glancing at Milli, who was still sleeping in the bed. She had awakened for a few minutes and had gone back to sleep. Marcus was livid when he saw the marks on her face. Knightengale had hit her more than once.
“Let me put it this way,” Marcus said, his voice hard. “I may kill the man if I am to take him in. I had the chance with that pistol, and now I am rethinking my decision.”
Stephen scowled as he looked at Milli’s pale, bruised face. “And you don’t think I want to do that too?”
“You may want to do it, but I may actually beat the man to death.”
Stephen grinned. “He’s a bit larger than you.”
Marcus raised a smiling brow. “That, baby brother, does not matter at all.”
Stephen chuckled. “Yes, I heard you had a round with the man at Gentleman Jackson’s and you won. But a night at an inn without a chaperone? It is not proper.”
Marcus brushed Milli’s chestnut hair from her face. He looked up at his brother. “I am going to marry her.”
Stephen’s eyes were wide in shock. “You love her?”
“Does it matter? This is something that must be done. After Knightengale is brought in, the facts will be out. We must protect her.”
“What about Miss Canton and the general?”
“Ah, now, you allow me to speak. I saw the general and told him, no thank you. I will not be marrying Miss Canton at all.”
Stephen looked surprised. “But you never said a thing.”
“You never let me.”
Stephen took in a deep breath. “I don’t want her hurt with any unnecessary gossip. As her guardian, I give my approval. You don’t think we need to fetch a doctor?”
Marcus frowned as he regarded Milli’s delicate form. “I don’t believe so. But if I feel the need, I will see to it. She is tired and exhausted. Knightengale’s disregard for her person took a toll on her. But rest assured, I will not let her out of my sight. You have my word.”
Stephen seemed satisfied. “Then, I shall leave now, with Knightengale in tow.” He turned on his heels and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and by the way, good luck telling her you are her fiancé. I would like to stay for Act Two, but duty calls.”
Marcus smiled, feeling rather relieved as he followed Stephen to the door. “I think she will see things my way.”
Stephen let out a low whistle as he entered the hall. “If she is anything like Elizabeth, you will be groveling at her feet, begging her to marry you.”
Marcus closed the door and sank beside Milli, holding her hand. “I think not. You have always loved me, have you not, my little princess? Marrying me will be no problem at all.”
The following morning, in the carriage back to Bath, Milli’s head hurt from two things. One, from Knightengale’s whacks to her body, and two, from Marcus’s incessant chatter. The clip clop of horses’ hooves would have been a lullaby compared to Marcus’s words.
“So you see, as my bride, no gossip will follow you after this little escapade.”
Milli clenched her hands in her lap. “That’s absurd. I never meant to marry him. I may have made a mistake, leading him on, but when I tried to tell him I was not interested in eloping, he became rather angry.”
Marcus traced a gentle finger over her bruised cheek. “You know, I would have killed the man if Stephen had not been there. After seeing what Knightengale did to you, I was rethinking my pistol shot.”
She looked away, afraid to let her emotions make her look like a fool again. “He k-killed Papa. He is an evil man. I feel so stupid.”
She stared out the window as the countryside flew by, avoiding Marcus’s keen gaze. Sunlight warmed the carriage, but her body felt like ice.
Marcus held her hand, something that felt so natural it made her heart squeeze with pain. He was only feeling sorry for her.
He leaned toward her. “We will be married within the week with a special license. You need not worry about the gossips.”
Her head jerked toward his. “I never said I would marry you.”
He looked surprised. “I thought you loved me?”
She blushed. He must have thought her such a peagoose, pining for him all these years.
“You do love me,” he remarked. “You told me so.”
She yanked her hand from his. “That was when I was a . . . a child!”
He dared to laugh. “Don’t fight me on this, Milli. We will be marrying this week.”
Her gray eyes glittered with pain. “You don’t love me. Why marry me?”
“Who else will marry you?” he challenged.
“Lord Hughmont,” she blurted. “I will marry him.”
“He doesn’t love you either.”
She swallowed. “How do you know? Besides, any of my other suitors will do just fine. But I refuse to marry you!”
“Come now, my little princess. We will do well together.” His gaze lingered on her lips, and she scooted further into the corner.
He edged toward her, his light laughter making her bristle.
She glared back. “I don’t think this situation is very amusing.”
He inclined her chin so she would look at him. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her face. Desire coursed through her, and she fought every instinct to lean into him.
He bent toward her, coaxing her with his touch. His silver eyes locked with hers. “Kiss me, my little mischief maker.” His words were like silk on steel, making her yearn to be his.
He didn’t give her a chance to say no. His mouth touched hers with a hunger that destroyed her defenses. He caressed her with his lips, demanding her to respond. She couldn’t resist his touch. It was like a whisper of heaven dipping into her soul. His taste. His touch. His entire being captivated her.
When he pulled back, his eyes devoured her. “Yes, indeed, we will do well together.”
She froze and stared at him. Knightengale had said something similar. Not that Marcus wanted her for her money. But he was only trying to salvage her reputation.
In the blink of an eye, her happiness snapped. He never said he loved her. He would never say he loved her. Ever.
Heartbroken, she leaned against the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired, Marcus. I think I need to sleep.” She said nothing else until they arrived in Bath.
The entire household pampered Milli after she returned home, everyone except her sister.
Three days later, Lizzie stood in Milli’s bedchambers with her hands on her hips. “I cannot believe you won’t marry Marcus.”
Milli shrugged, tugging at a chestnut curl as she leaned into the mirror. She had hidden her bruises with some powder. She grabbed her lavender water and dabbed a few drops behind her ears. “He doesn’t love me.”
“Ah, and you love him. I know how that goes.”
Milli spun around. “Well, since you know the feeling so well, you must know that I cannot, will not, marry him!”
Lizzie sank on her bed and sighed. “Oh, Milli, I am certain he loves you. His past has made it hard for him—”
Milli scoffed as she began to pace about her room.“ His past? Goodness, Lizzie, I am tired about hearing about his past. What about me? What about how I feel?”
Lizzie frowned. “You love him. I know that.”
“And he knows that too,” Milli said, reliving their last kiss in her mind. “How do you think that makes me feel? He will pity me for the rest of my life.”
“Marcus is not like that.”
Milli turned and faced her sister. “He will pity me. I cannot live like that. I am going to marry Lord Hughmont.”
Lizzie gasped. “Elope?”
“Certainly not. I have asked Stephen’s permission to wed at Bath Abbey, and he has given it.”
Lizzie shot up, her eyes flashing. “I don’t believe it. He just returned from London this morning. He would have told me.”
“There are some things a guardian and his ward must keep to themselves. He agrees though, my reputation must be saved. Marriage to a reasonable gentleman is the answer. I don’t mean to hurt you, but this is my life. Please, trust me with my choices.”
Lizzie looked ready to cry.
Milli’s stomach churned with turmoil. She was afraid to say anything else. But her plans were in motion, and no one was going to stop her.
“What about Marcus?” Lizzie finally asked.
“I hope he finds true love some day. I truly do.”
“Oh, Milli,” Lizzie sobbed, dropping her face in her hands. “You are doing the same thing over and over. First Knightengale, and now this. Haven’t you learned anything?”
Milli’s mouth tightened into a thin white line of frustration. “I am doing what I have to do. When I go down to luncheon in a few minutes, I will tell him.”
Lizzie shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Milli folded her body into her chair, feeling the hot sting of tears prickling at the edges of her lids. “Oh, Lizzie. Don’t you see? I may be stubborn and opinionated, but if I don’t have Marcus’s love, I cannot marry him.”
Lizzie stared at her through watery eyes that gleamed with mirth. “You little actress. You have a plan, don’t you?”
Milli shrugged and sent her a shaky smile. “I always have a plan, Lizzie. And marrying Lord Hughmont is only the beginning.”
“You will marry me!”
Milli stared at Marcus from across the dining table. His furious gaze almost made her drop the pot of coffee onto her lap. It was only the two of them. It seemed the duchess had made certain they were alone. No servants. No relatives.
She took a swallow of her coffee and calmly stared back at him, desperately trying to hide the chaos rushing through her veins. “I will certainly not marry you when you tell me I must.”
Marcus shot from his seat, throwing his napkin onto the table. “I cannot believe you agreed to marry that worm.”
“Lord Hughmont is everything agreeable. We enjoy books and plays—”
“Does he make your heart beat with desire?”
Milli choked on her coffee, ignoring his question.
He stomped around the table and slipped behind her, clasping her shoulders in a loving embrace. “Does his touch make you tingle from your head down to your toes?”
Her hand shook, but she ignored him and took a bite of her roll.
He slipped a finger behind her ear, stroking the sensitive part of her skin. “Does he make you feel like this?”
She wanted to melt into his arms, but she refused to be a peagoose. With a trembling hand, she took another sip of her coffee, then another bite of her ham.
He bent near her ear and whispered in soft, velvety tones. “Does he stir the passion in your soul? In your heart? In your mind? Can you live without that, my little princess?”
The food stuck in her throat.
“Hell’s teeth, Milli.” He pulled her chair from the table and scooped her into his arms. They were face to face, inches from each other.
Her heart raced as she stared into a pair of glittering silver eyes. She willed herself not to react. He must be made to realize she meant what she said.
“Tell me you do not love me, my little princess. Tell me.”
She shook her head, her heart breaking.
He let her slip to the floor. “Tell me, confound it!”
She sealed her lips shut, wanting more than ever to fall into his embrace and stay there forever.
She thought she detected a flash of vulnerability in his gaze just before he bent toward her and pressed his lips to hers. A shudder whipped through her when his passion exploded. His eyes blazed like fire as he stared back at her.
“Tell me Hughmont can do that.” His husky words tugged at her heart, but she would not give in.
A chilling tension hovered in the air. She gulped past the pain. She looked into his turbulent silver eyes and forced herself to say nothing. She wanted his love, not just his kisses.
His face turned dark. “You can have him then. I wash my hands of you!”
He pulled out her chair, sank her body into it, and strode from the room.
Milli stared at her plate, blinking back the pain.
To her surprise, Jane entered the room. “I heard it all, dearest. Do you want to talk about it?”
Milli shook her head and burst into tears.
Milli’s wedding day had come. She stood beside Lord Hughmont just inside Bath Abbey. She felt a bit overwhelmed in the yellow Bath stone building with its vaulted ceiling as she waited for the rest of the witnesses.
She had arrived early, wanting to be alone, as she prayed inside the church. The scent of freshly polished pews teased her senses.
She pressed a shaky hand against her pale green gown while holding a handful of violets in the other. Tears threatened her eyes. What a watering pot she had become. But Marcus hadn’t spoken to her in days.
“All will be well, my dear,” Lord Hughmont said calmly, looking quite handsome in his black jacket as he squeezed her arm. “‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon’em.’ That is us, I suppose.”
Milli squeaked out a tight smile, knowing he was trying to ease her nerves. “Shakespeare again? I do wonder how you recall all those plays.”
Lord Hughmont chuckled, peeking past the outside doors. “Ah, looks like the duchess has arrived with Lord Stephen and Lady Elizabeth.”
Milli felt her blood race. “Well, let’s do this then. We must not dally or question anything.”
Lord Hughmont’s expression seemed worried. “Are you certain you want to go through this?”
Milli looked at him with a heart filled with hope. “You have been wonderful. I cannot thank you enough for all that you’ve done. But I am determined to be a Bath bride and I will have it.”
Lord Hughmont flashed her a bright smile. “You are a lady among ladies, Miss Millicent Shelby. I have enjoyed every minute sharing our common interests. Our theatrical group adores you, and if you do not mind me saying so, I do too.”
“That is very sweet of you. Oh, here they come.”
Lizzie walked up beside her. “You are certain about this?” her sister asked warily.
Milli nodded. She glanced at Stephen who gave her a wink.
Milli took in a deep breath and looked at Lord Hughmont. “Is the vicar ready?”
“I’m right here,” a man said, stepping down the aisle. “Has everyone arrived for the ceremony then?”
Lord Hughmont nodded and slipped his hand in Milli’s. “Ready?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, determined to see this through. “I am.”
Marcus paced the study of the Bath home, acting like a caged beast as he snarled at the warm sun beating down on him. A cracking fire blazed in the hearth. He pulled at his cravat, glaring at the duke. “Do you have to make it an inferno in here? It feels like hell itself.”
Roderick pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, regarding Marcus as he marched from one side of the room to the other. “Hell is what you’re in right now. And I can tell you, with all sincerity, it has nothing to do with sunlight or the flames behind me.”
Marcus spun on his heels. “What the devil does that mean?”
Roderick turned his attention to the papers on the desk. “Do I need to spell it out for you? L-O-V-E.”
“Ha.” Marcus could not believe Roderick was so calm about this. He wanted someone else to be just as miserable as he. “Why are you not at the wedding then? You and Milli seem to get along quite well lately?”
The duke turned and tossed a paper in the fire behind him. “Jane and I quarreled. I thought it better that she went with Stephen and Elizabeth. In fact, Milli didn’t want anyone else. She wanted it to be a small wedding.”
Marcus slapped the wing chair flanking the hearth. “A small wedding indeed. Mother is heartbroken.”
Roderick glared at him in silence.
Marcus walked toward the window, then turned and scowled at his brother. “What?”
The duke lifted an angry brow. “What?” Roderick repeated mockingly. “Thunderation, you could have swept her off her feet anytime you wanted. But no, you had to be the proper English gentleman. No emotion, no attachment. Am I correct? Oh, I forgot, no love. Your past with Lady Madeleine took care of that, didn’t it?”
Marcus’s silver eyes darkened with rage. “I think that is quite enough.”
“No, I don’t think so. In fact, I believe you are as stubborn as Milli, if not more.”
“I am not.”
Roderick snorted in disgust. “Do you hear yourself? Live in the present you dimwitted fool and take a chance. You are letting the best thing that ever came into your life slip through your fingers because of your pride.”
Marcus banged his hand against the wall. “Don’t you think I know it?”
“Then what the devil are you going to do about it?”
Marcus’s mouth tightened into a grim line as he glared past the window where his horse was waiting for his daily ride. “What am I going to do about it?” He jerked around. “I want to stop that blasted wedding. I want to run to the Abbey and ask her forgiveness.” He frowned. “Devil take it, Roderick. I want to fall on my knees and beg that girl to marry me. I don’t care what I have to do.”
The duke shook his head and laughed. “Oh, you have it.”
Confused, Marcus stared at his brother. “Have what?”
“The sickness.”
“I am not ill. I am—”
“Am what?”
Marcus shoved a hand through his black hair in frustration. “I am in love! Confound it! Is that what you want to hear?”
Roderick’s eyes twinkled. “Me, why would I want to hear that you are in love? I thought you were smarter than that. Someone else has to hear it, that is, if you are not too late.”
Marcus bit off an oath. “I won’t be late. But devil take it, if I am, I shall call the cad out.”
Roderick grinned. “Thunderation, Hughmont didn’t do anything yet.”
Marcus strode toward the door, determination etched across his face. “Yes, well, he will never get a chance to do anything! So, laugh if you want. But I am going to get Milli back, no matter what it takes!”
Less than a minute later, he was on his horse, racing along the streets of Bath.