11. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
“ F or you, miss.” A liveried footman handed Millie a folded piece of paper, then continued past, as if he’d never spoken with her or delivered a message.
Shivers ran along Millie’s flesh as she clutched the small piece of paper in her gloved hand, wondering who had sent it and what it might say. She’d only just entered the Tisdale ball and didn’t dare glance behind her to see if her mother had witnessed the note’s delivery.
Two days had passed since Eliza had called and three since her meeting with Winston at the bookshop. During that time, she had bounced between her desire to attempt some bold act that would be sure to catch Winston’s attention or fading into the background, fearing he wouldn’t notice her disappearance.
Indecisiveness was driving her mad. She’d been short with her mother and one of her nephews, and it had taken all of her patience to listen to her sister’s complaints about her husband’s lack of understanding.
She could hardly bear it and knew she was on the brink of doing something drastic. Which way it leaned remained to be seen. She stood on a precipice but couldn’t see which path to take.
The message in her hand might tip the scales if it happened to be from Winston. Heart pounding, she gripped it tightly, doing her best to look around to make certain no one had noticed. How unfortunate that her maid wasn’t here to revel in the secrecy of the moment. Alice would love the drama.
With another glance over her shoulder toward her mother, Millie unfolded the piece of paper.
Meet me on the terrace as soon as possible.
W.
Excitement rushed through her as she reread the message, a concerning reaction given the few, brief words written in a now familiar masculine scrawl. She found it shocking to realize how the sight of his handwriting made her feel—she would risk nearly anything to be with him. The chance to be alone with Winston was becoming her favorite pastime.
Yet it could also lead to ruin. She couldn’t forget that for even a moment.
With a steadying breath, she glanced around the ballroom to get her bearings. She had only attended a few events at Tisdale House over the years. Glossy woodwork added a rich warmth to the room, and heavy azure velvet drapes framed tall windows along one wall. Four fluted columns supported the vaulted ceiling and boasted elaborate scrollwork at the top. Two small, curved balconies on an upper level allowed observers to view the room, though no one used them at the moment.
The terrace door was on the opposite side of the room, leaving the dance floor between her and her destination where couples already moved in time to the music.
An excuse to her mother would be necessary. One that would not only allow her to walk away but to be gone for several minutes. But what?
Her stomach danced with nerves, and once again, she realized how inept she was at subterfuge. Lying did not come easily, nor did pretending, especially when her emotions were involved.
She had to hope her mother was distracted enough by visiting with friends that she would accept a vague excuse.
‘As soon as possible’ meant now, and she was eager to see Winston. The thought spurred her into turning toward her mother to catch her eye. “I see a friend I am going to greet.”
Her mother nodded then returned to her conversation.
Nerves humming, Millie moved casually toward the terrace doors, hoping no one noted her path. Then again, since when did anyone notice anything she did? As expected, nobody glanced her way as she eased through the crowd and started around the dance floor.
“Miss Davies?”
The masculine voice had her turning to see Viscount Dunthorpe nearby. Her stomach tightened as she forced a smile, annoyed by the interruption.
“Viscount Dunthorpe. How nice to see you.” She nearly groaned at her words since it wasn’t nice at all.
“And you.” He bowed as she curtsied. “I hope you will save me a dance this evening?” he asked, although he sounded as enthusiastic about the prospect as she felt.
“How kind. Of course.” She waited with bated breath for him to end the conversation and move away. She didn’t dare do so for fear her mother was observing her.
“Excellent. I look forward to it.” With a dip of his head, he continued on his way, allowing her to draw a relieved breath.
Glancing about once more, Millie continued around the dance floor, hoping she didn’t see anyone else who would stop her. Luckily, she made it to the French door without further interruption. Nerves jumping, she paused briefly beside the door and looked to see if anyone was watching.
How odd that after all these years of longing to be noticed, she now wanted to be ignored. With a mental shake at her ridiculous thoughts, she opened the door and slipped out. If confronted, she would say that she needed fresh air, though the excuse sounded unbelievable when she had only just arrived.
The chilly air caused her to shiver, and she rubbed her arms as she glanced around the all-too-empty terrace. There was no sign of Winston. Had she read the message wrong?
She didn’t dare call his name in case someone else lingered in the shadows. It wouldn’t do to be caught. She eased toward the edge of the stone patio where the light from the windows faded, and the shadows deepened. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.
How long did she wait? Not long, lest her mother came in search of her. If Winston had managed to deliver the note, he had to be here somewhere. She would give it another minute and then—
“Millicent.”
Her breath caught and all her worries fell away at the sight of his tall form and broad shoulders moving toward her. Her nerves settled as if his mere presence meant all was right with the world. “Winston.”
“Thank you for meeting me.” His charming smile made the clandestine meeting feel like an adventure rather than a risk she shouldn’t have taken.
“I’m pleased you suggested it.” She could hardly believe that she, a confirmed wallflower, stood on a darkened patio with a dashing man.
“I thought it safer to have a moment alone with you before anyone knew of my arrival.” He took her gloved hand in his and guided her deeper into the shadows alongside a hedge then quirked a brow, the movement barely visible in the dim light. “Did my sister pay you a visit?”
“She did. She mentioned she called on you as well.” Millie waited to see what he’d tell her, wondering what Eliza had said and how he felt about the situation.
He sighed. “We will have to take care not to further rouse her suspicions.”
Disappointment filled her that he wasn’t willing to admit to their liaison. Then again, neither was she. “Yes, I suppose.”
Unfortunately, being more careful surely meant seeing each other less. The thought made her heart ache. Was what they had ending so soon?
“You look beautiful this evening, Millicent,” he said, then reached to cup her cheek, the warmth of his hand causing her to lean into his touch.
“Thank you.” Heat spread through her at the interest gleaming in his eyes. “You look rather handsome as well.”
“This old thing?” He glanced down at his formal evening attire with a crooked grin. “Is your mother with you this evening?”
“Yes.” Guilt niggled at her, but she shoved it aside.
“And are you chaperoning again?”
“I believe so.” Her heart pinched at the admission. “One of the expectations of coming from a large family.”
“I suppose.” He frowned, suggesting he didn’t like it. “That doesn’t mean you can’t dance though, right?”
“As long as I still keep an eye on Catherine. Luckily, she isn’t expected until a bit later.”
“Oh, good. Then I have you all to myself for a few minutes.”
How she wished it could be longer.
“We won’t have much time,” he continued, “and I haven’t been able to think of anything other than the feel of your lips against mine.”
Desire swirled within her at the sincerity of his tone. She placed a tentative hand on his chest, smoothing his lapel. “I confess that I have been thinking much the same.”
“Is it too soon for a kiss?” he asked.
“Not at all.” The words came out in a breathless rush.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind, for he bent to take her lips with his, gently at first, then more masterfully. Passion rose as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, loving the feel of him pressing against her.
This was something special, regardless of whether he admitted it. She might be inexperienced, but feelings like this didn’t come along every day. She hoped he realized that, too. He deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. Her body heated from the intimate invasion, and she wanted nothing more than to continue.
While it should bother her that he was determined to hide their interest in one another from Eliza, she would worry about that later. For now, she focused on the magical feel of his arms around her and his mouth moving against hers.
The moment was more than she’d dared to dream of, and she reveled in it. Who knew if she would ever experience this feeling again? She had yet to determine if what Winston felt for her was anything more than a passing fancy. Come tomorrow he might put aside this attraction between them.
Given how difficult it was to find a few minutes alone together, she would enjoy every second as much as possible. To think that she, Millicent, a wallflower, bordering on spinster, was standing on a dark patio, kissing a man she deeply cared for was remarkable.
“Millie? Are you out here?”
The familiar voice of her cousin, Prudence, had Millie breaking the kiss.
“I thought I saw her step outside,” came another voice.
Dear heaven ! Her mother was with Prue.
Panic took hold and Millie squeezed her eyes shut, heart thundering at the fear of being caught. As much as she wanted a life with Winston, she didn’t want it forced upon him. If he didn’t choose her, then she didn’t want him.
But what to do?
“Go.” The whispered word from Winston as he released his hold on her had her opening her eyes, feeling bereft. Cold rushed in where he had been pressed against her only a moment before, and she shivered with a mix of fear and longing.
He stepped back into the shadows and disappeared from sight, though she could still feel his presence and smell his cologne.
She took another quick breath in an attempt to calm herself, then slowly turned and walked toward the pool of light that spilled onto the slate stones of the terrace from the window.
Her entire body trembled as she wondered if this was it—the moment of ruin she’d feared. She clenched her fists, hiding them in the folds of her skirts, trying desperately to think of some way to explain herself. But how?
“There you are.” Prudence smiled as Millie drew closer. “I thought I saw you step out and wanted to ensure all was well.”
“What on earth are you doing out here?” Millie’s mother asked as she glanced behind Millie, peering into the shadows as if she suspected something wasn’t right.
“I just needed a breath of fresh air. It is so stuffy in there.” Millie returned Prudence’s hug, hoping her cousin didn’t feel her shaking.
“We only just arrived.” Her mother frowned, studying Millie with a puzzled look.
“I know.” Millie shook her head, forcing a smile. “I just needed a moment to compose myself, I suppose.”
“You must take care, Millie,” her mother admonished. “Catherine will soon arrive for you to chaperone. What sort of poor example is your behavior for her?”
“Our cousin should be responsible for her own behavior,” Prue said quietly. “Or else she’ll find herself in a situation from which no one can save her.”
“True.” Millie’s chest tightened at how fitting the advice was for herself, as well. Ruination would disappoint everyone, including her, and cause a rift with Winston from which they might never recover.
Her mother glanced around the shadowed patio once again before looking back at Millie. “I can’t imagine what you were thinking to come out here by yourself. You risked your reputation. Without that, what do you have?”
The words caused Millie to shiver. What had she been thinking? Since when had she become the type of woman who would take such a risk when the consequences were so great?
A heaviness settled over her. Who was she trying to fool that continuing this dangerous game with Winston would make him want to marry her? It would only end in heartache—for her.
Winston cursed under his breath as he waited in the shadows, closely watching as Millicent spoke with her mother and cousin, hoping they hadn’t seen him. He couldn’t quite hear the conversation. From what little he could tell, the newcomers seemed to be questioning Millicent.
Alarm filled him as the discussion continued. Millicent’s back was to him, so he couldn’t see her reaction to what was being said. But he heard enough of her voice to detect a tremble in her tone, and he tended to think she would confess the truth if pressed. She wasn’t the type of lady to lie.
He refused to allow her to be ruined. Should he step forward and declare his intentions?
His pulse thrummed, his heart nearly threatening to beat out of his chest. He had to do something to aid her. He started forward only to watch the trio move toward the door, suggesting they believed whatever excuse she’d given.
Winston blew out a quiet breath, his knees weak. The moment had been too close for comfort. If Millicent’s cousin hadn’t called her name, they might have been caught. The situation could have been disastrous, and he would be calling on her father to discuss marriage come morning. The thought of doing so was enough to have him breaking out in a cold sweat.
He had dodged a bullet, though the weight in his stomach told a different story. One he refused to entertain. Clearly, he was taking too many risks in order to spend time with her, yet he was unable to resist her. Even now, the memory of her in his arms sent longing coursing through him.
It wasn’t merely the physical aspect of being with her but the pleasure of her company as well. She made him laugh. She brought him joy. He appreciated that more than he would’ve guessed.
With a long sigh, he started to turn away only to hear a masculine voice join the ladies. He spun back to see Dunthorpe in the window’s soft glow as the viscount held the door for them.
Blast the man! Winston didn’t like the way Dunthorpe so often sought Millicent’s company when he couldn’t even decide whether he liked her or not. Given her charm and beauty, he felt certain Dunthorpe would soon decide he was in love with her or some such nonsense. Then what?
Winston scowled as he watched them, noting how the viscount stood too close to her. She drew back a step as if in agreement, easing Winston’s upset. That simple gesture tugged at him, and he rubbed a hand over his chest at the strange sensation there.
“What has you lurking among the hedges, Linford?”
Winston nearly jumped out of his skin at the quiet question, even if it came from a familiar voice. He took Trentworth’s arm to guide him around the corner of the house where they were less likely to be heard.
“Are you trying to scare me half to death, Your Grace?” Winston emphasized his friend’s title to make it clear how displeased he was.
Trentworth chuckled. “If you intend to linger in the dark to eavesdrop, you should be prepared for such an outcome.” He gestured toward a nearby garden door. “I stepped out to avoid a conversation with Viscount Maynard and thought to enter the ballroom through the terrace when I saw you.”
“I see.” Winston didn’t like Maynard either.
“Who were you watching on the terrace?”
“No one.” The last person he wanted to tell was Trentworth when he would surely tell Eliza.
“Wait.” His friend’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to search his memory. “Wasn’t that Miss Davies among the group?”
Winston hesitated whether to answer. He didn’t want to lie and felt as if he needed to speak to someone about it. But could he trust Trentworth not to tell Eliza?
“Damn, Linford. What are you about?” His friend shook his head. “You’re playing with fire. Not only could you hurt Miss Davies but your sister as well. Have you considered that?”
“Of course, I have.” Yet here he was, standing in the dark outside a ballroom until he decided if he dared enter just so he might see her again.
It seemed he didn’t know himself anymore. This was not something his former self would’ve done.
“And?” Trentworth pressed, the quiet question unanswerable.
“And I—” Think I’m falling for her . He bit back the words before he could utter them as doing so would be a monumental mistake. Yet the truth tilted his world, sending it spinning. Panic took hold, along with a sprinkle of joy.
No. That couldn’t be. He wasn’t for her and thinking otherwise truly would be a mistake.
For everyone, but most especially Millicent. She deserved better than him. He already knew marrying him would be a curse of sorts, given his numerous flaws, and he didn’t wish that on her. Not sweet, lovely Millicent.
“I’m leaving,” Winston announced. Better that he go before temptation led him astray.
“Wait—” Trentworth began with a hand on Winston’s arm.
“I’ll see you at the club tomorrow.” Perhaps by then, he’d have his thoughts—and his emotions—in order. With that, he strode down the dark path that led to the rear of the garden and the gate through which he’d entered.
The faint sound of laughter carried through the night air and halted his steps. He listened closely, certain it was Millicent. The joyful noise made his heart heavy.
Yes, she was definitely better off without him. There would be little humor in her future if he gave in to his feelings for her.