A Secret Seduction (The Mayfair Literary League #8)

12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

W inston felt much more his normal self when he strode into his club the following afternoon. He’d let the moonlight and Millicent get the better of him last evening. While he was willing to admit how much he wanted her, there was no rush. No need to take risks with which he wasn’t comfortable or those that might jeopardize her reputation.

He was not falling in love with her. Unfortunately, the lie was becoming less and less believable.

Even if he eventually decided he was willing to risk marrying her at some future point in time, there still wasn’t any hurry. If necessary, he would advise Dunthorpe to set his sights elsewhere, which would leave Millicent free for Winston.

In another two or three years, perhaps he would manage to purge the remnants of his father that lingered within him, and he would be fit to marry. Millicent was older than debutantes but that didn’t mean she was near to being on the shelf. That she chaperoned her younger cousin was part of being a member of a large family, not a reflection on her status.

Surely, time was on his side.

The idea eased the tension in his shoulders, and he was in fine spirits when he located Trentworth alone at a table in the corner of the bustling club. The duke was sprawled in a chair with his legs stretched before him, his expression unreadable.

Winston placed a hand on the back of an empty chair as he glanced around, surprised by his friend’s choice of tables as he usually enjoyed speaking with friends. “In need of privacy?”

Trentworth scowled. “It seemed like a wise notion for the conversation we are going to have.”

“Oh, come now.” Winston pulled out the chair and sank into it, ignoring his nerves as he waved for a server to take their order. “No need for such theatrics. All is well.”

“Is it?” His friend lifted a brow, expression doubtful. “From the way you departed last evening, I have difficulty believing it. Keeping the situation from Eliza hasn’t been easy.”

“Last night was an overreaction on my part.” He paused as they both placed an order for whiskey and then watched the server depart. “There is no reason for concern.”

“Does that mean you have decided to keep your distance from the lady in question?”

Winston couldn’t deny a certain amount of hurt at his friend’s words. That wasn’t the only answer to the situation. “I have yet to make that determination.” In truth, he feared he couldn’t keep away from Millicent. Not yet anyway, if ever.

The realization alarmed him, but perhaps it also proved something lasting was growing between them. That would be necessary if there was any chance of weathering the turmoil that would surely follow in the coming years.

“I have to wonder if Dunthorpe will beat you to her.”

“Dunthorpe is not a problem.” Winston waved a hand in dismissal even as he glanced at the bar to see what was taking their drinks so long.

“I beg to differ.” Trentworth waited until he had Winston’s full attention before continuing, “His father and Mr. Davies are well acquainted.”

“Oh?” Winston frowned, not liking the sound of that.

“I have also been advised that Mr. Davies arranged fine matches for his first three daughters. It seems he has skill in such matters.”

“As a man of four daughters should.” Winston nodded, doing his best to keep his panic at bay. “It can’t be easy to see them all comfortably settled.”

“Especially with no title and modest doweries to entice willing gentlemen.”

That was nothing Winston didn’t know, but he appreciated the reminder. It would take time for Mr. Davies to arrange a match for Millicent, given those issues.

“Luckily, Mr. Davies is clever and has already set the stage for an alliance. It seems he has business interests that Dunthorpe’s father intends to invest in.”

That didn’t sound good. “How did you discover all this?”

“I happened to be in the right place to overhear it last evening.”

Winston shrugged and glanced again over his shoulder to where the barkeep was taking a ridiculously long time to pour their whiskeys. “I don’t know that any of these details pertain to me.”

“They don’t.” Trentworth straightened in his chair and leaned forward, holding Winston’s gaze. “Unless you happen to be enamored with Miss Davies and interested in a future with her.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t care for the way his heartbeat sped, nor for the cold seeping into his chest. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult to speak with Dunthorpe and convince him he’d rather marry someone else. “I refuse to be pressured into action before I’m ready. If that time ever comes,” he added for good measure.

Trentworth eased back into his chair as their drinks were finally delivered, though from his disgruntled expression, he wasn’t pleased.

Winston took a sip before the server had taken so much as a step away, certain the whiskey would ease the odd feelings that welled up within him. “I do hope you didn’t share our conversation with Eliza.”

“Why? You don’t want her calling again to make certain you’re behaving yourself?” Trentworth asked with a smile.

“No, and I’m certain you don’t want to accompany her if she does feel the urge.”

At that reminder, the duke huffed. “True.”

“Then it would be in your best interest to help me.”

“How?” Trentworth asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Help me keep Dunthorpe away from Millicent. At least for a time.”

“Linford, are you interested in her or not?” When Winston didn’t answer, Trentworth continued. “If you are, then tell her and formally court her. Then all these issues will fade away. It’s that simple.”

If only that were true. Unfortunately, it was too soon to move toward a future with Millicent. He wasn’t ready. It would be just the beginning of trouble. He was stubborn and irresponsible, as his father had been. And contrary. Why would Winston’s marriage be any different when he shared so many of his father’s traits? Even the steward mentioned it on several occasions.

Millicent wasn’t in such a big rush to marry, was she? Though the news of her father solidifying a relationship with Dunthorpe’s father was concerning, marriages took months to arrange, didn’t they?

While he didn’t want to risk losing her, neither was he prepared to move forward. Uncertainty had him taking a deeper drink of his whiskey, wondering what to do.

The knock on Millie’s bedroom door had her starting in surprise. She’d been attempting to write a letter to her eldest sister who lived in the country, but few words filled the page even though she’d been sitting there for the better part of an hour.

“Enter.”

Her mother peeked her head around the door before opening it fully, a bright smile on her face, which immediately sent concern spearing through Millie. “You have a visitor, darling.”

“Oh?” Hope flared briefly in her chest before she managed to snuff it out. The caller would not be Winston, no matter how she wished it were.

That he’d left the ball directly after they’d been interrupted hurt. She’d hoped he would come inside and ask her to dance, and they’d have more time together. The opportunities to do so were rare, and it felt as if his choice not to do so reflected on her and his feelings—or lack thereof—for her. That she wasn’t desirable enough for him to want to attend.

“Viscount Dunthorpe is calling.”

Millie’s stomach pitched alarmingly. “Mother—” she began, certain her parents had something to do with his presence.

“I know you said you weren’t ready,” her mother interrupted before Millie could finish, “but these things can’t always be planned to a schedule.”

“I suppose, but I am not prepared to consider him as a potential suitor.” Hadn’t she already made her feelings clear?

Her mother’s continuing smile filled Millie with unease. “If he has realized he holds admiration for you, then all the better. Perhaps nature will take its course.”

Millie frowned, uncertain precisely what her mother meant. “As I said before, I would rather wait until later in the Season before Father considers arranging a match.”

“Millie.” Her mother’s firm tone had her bracing for a lecture. “You are nearly seven and twenty. Time is the one commodity you don’t have.” She crossed the room to pull the bell, then strode toward the wardrobe. “Now then, what shall you wear?”

Millie heaved a sigh, put down her pen, and recapped her inkwell. She reluctantly rose and glanced at her ecru gown. Though simple in design and a few years old, she liked it. “Surely what I have on is sufficient.”

Her mother gave it a brief glance then nodded at the maid, who had paused in the open doorway. “Alice, can you please help Millie change? She has a gentleman caller.”

“I’d be delighted, madam.” Alice sent Millie an excited look only to have her expression fall once she noted her mistress’s lack of excitement. “What of the pink striped gown?” she asked as she moved to the wardrobe.

“Excellent suggestion.” Her mother nodded in approval. “Tidy her hair as well, please. And do hurry. We don’t want to leave the viscount waiting for long.”

With that, she departed.

Alice retrieved the gown and sent Millie a sympathetic look. “A viscount? Not the marquess, then?” she whispered as Millie joined her near the dressing screen.

“Viscount Dunthorpe, to be precise.”

“How disappointing.” The ever-efficient maid quickly unbuttoned Millie’s gown and assisted her into the new one even while murmuring in sympathy.

Within a quarter of an hour, Millie descended the stairs and entered the drawing room, unsurprised to see her mother visiting with Dunthorpe. No doubt she was concerned about what Millie might say if she didn’t watch over them.

Dunthorpe pushed to his feet as she entered the room, looking her over from head to toe, which left her wondering what he saw. “Good afternoon, Miss Davies.”

Millie paused to curtsy, while he bowed. “How kind of you to call, my lord.” She managed a polite smile before sitting in a nearby chair. “Such lovely weather we’re having today.”

“It is, indeed.” He returned to his seat, glancing between her and her mother. “I had a nice ride in Hyde Park this morning.”

The conversation continued in a halting manner, and it seemed as if Dunthorpe was trying to be on his best behavior. While the topics he raised weren’t especially riveting, he made an attempt to be engaging.

She couldn’t help but think how easy it was to talk to Winston. He made her laugh and made her think. She looked forward to speaking with him, and it was never a trial, unlike the present conversation.

“Isn’t that right, Millie?” Her mother sent her a pointed look that made her realize she’d lost track of the conversation, something that would earn her reproof from her mother later.

“My apologies. I’m afraid I was woolgathering.”

Sure enough, a hard glint flashed in her mother’s eyes. “The viscount was mentioning how delightful garden parties are, and I said that we enjoy them as well.”

She sent Dunthorpe a questioning look before she could think better of it, not believing for a moment that he enjoyed them. His cheeks took on a ruddy hue as if he guessed her doubt.

“We do,” she agreed. “Is there a particular flower you admire?” A part of her felt compelled to press him for details to catch him in the lie.

His brown eyes widened in surprise. “I can’t say that I know the name of any, but I admire them all the same.”

“All flowers have beauty,” her mother quickly added with another glare at Millie.

“Very true, though I’m quite fond of hedges as well.” The conversation was ridiculous, and she couldn’t help herself from making it even more so.

“Hedges?” The viscount frowned. “Any reason you admire them?”

Guilt filled her since he was apparently trying to come to know her better and she wasn’t making it any easier.

“They offer both privacy and beauty,” she managed, doing her best to keep from laughing as she imagined what Winston would say if he were listening. “And they can be trimmed into so many different shapes.”

“I see.” Dunthorpe nodded, though his expression suggested he remained puzzled. “Does that mean you will be attending the Thurston garden party at the end of the week? I-I suppose they have hedges.”

Millie glanced at her mother, wondering if they would. When she nodded, Millie looked back at Dunthorpe. “We will. Are you as well?”

“I shall make a point of it if you’ll be there.”

“Splendid,” her mother said, smiling at them both.

Much to her relief, Dunthorpe took his leave soon afterward, though his departure didn’t lessen her upset.

“What was all that nonsense about hedges, Millie?” her mother asked as soon as the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house.

“I truly do like them.” What else could she possibly say if she wanted to avoid her mother taking her to task?

“Hmm. It was an odd thing to mention.” Her mother gave her another stern look as she reached for her embroidery. “Do be careful, dear. It is important that he likes you.”

What of my feelings ? Shouldn’t I like him, too ? She bit back the questions. After all, she already knew her opinion didn’t really matter.

While she’d intended to set aside her attempt to capture Winston’s interest after they had nearly been caught, she realized she couldn’t.

How could she settle for an arranged match unless she’d done everything she could to reach for love? The odds weren’t in her favor, but she had to try.