Chapter 1 #2
Mildred Pepperwirth glanced into the mirror of her polished walnut vanity table to meet her younger sister’s gaze.
They were in a lavish guest room at Hampton House attending a house party through the weekend.
It was the first formal dinner party in the country for her sister Rowena to attend since she’d turned eighteen.
“Nervous about what?” Milly waited patiently as their lady’s maid Constance tucked the last few tendrils of Milly’s chestnut hair into place.
The maid had created an elegant coiffure that left a mass of hair in thick, coiled strands almost in a Grecian fashion.
A green fade comb studded with diamonds was nestled in the base of her hair, keeping the intricate coils bound together.
Rowena, perched on Milly’s bed, was already dressed in a white lace evening gown, one suitable for a young lady only just come out into society. She tugged on her elbow-length white gloves, fidgeting with them until she’d tugged them too tight and then was forced to loosen them again.
Milly fought off a smile. Her little sister had no reason to be nervous. She was exquisite and every male eye would be on her once she joined the other guests downstairs.
“Oh, you know. The parties, the balls, the suitors?” Rowena’s eyes were soft but the same arresting shade of blue that she and Milly had inherited from their father. The brilliant color had captivated many a young man and made many a lady jealous.
“I suppose I was at first,” Milly replied.
“But it all becomes so tedious.” She despised all the social engagements that accompanied a typical season, not because she didn’t like dinners and balls or dancing.
She loved to dance, loved to visit with friends, but it had only taken her one season to realize that she was nothing more than a broodmare on an auction block.
The Season had only one true purpose, she’d come to realize: to secure alliances of the wealthy and elite through marriage.
Milly had quickly learned to feign a distaste in dancing to avoid giving the impression she would entertain a man’s romantic interest in her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry; she was much like any other woman—she longed for a loving husband and a happy marriage like her parents had, but she knew what her parents had was rare.
They weren’t simply husband and wife. They were partners in everything.
From the moment her father had met her mother, they’d known they were meant to be.
But Milly hadn’t met a single man since her come-out who she felt that instant connection with.
She wanted what her parents had. Her mother had an equal say in finances and the control of the house and their investments.
Milly wanted that, too, but knew of not one single gentleman of her age who would even consider such an equality in marriage.
That meant Milly had no real chance of finding a love match like they had, not one that would give her the freedom she needed.
During her years of private schooling in France, she’d been fortunate to glimpse a freer society for women, but here in England, she was a pawn, a piece to be bargained and bought, based on her family’s fortune and her father’s lands.
The realization was unpleasant and Milly had done the only thing she could think of to avoid marriage to a stranger, or marriage to a man she couldn’t stand.
She’d become standoffish, mulish even, in the presence of eligible men.
If they could not stand her coldness, her feigned arrogance, they left her in peace.
It was a lonely peace, though, one without a hope of love.
She was not brave like the suffragettes she secretly admired.
She would not have chanced such a strategy to avoid marriage if she didn’t know without a doubt her father would never force her to marry.
He would let her remain under his care for the rest of his life if she didn’t find a man who suited her, which was her plan if she didn’t find someone who could give her both freedom and happiness in a marriage.
It was a lonely solution, but better than the alternative: forced to live the rest of her life with a man who would never see her full potential as a partner.
If any man viewed her as property to be bought, she could never respect him.
Love could not grow in a garden sown with seeds of domestic slavery.
The only way she could ever marry would be to find a man who would love her mind, her heart, and her soul and agree that she wasn’t a lesser being.
He would want to support her when she volunteered to teach children to read, especially girls who could benefit from education and better not only themselves but also their families.
Milly needed a man who would stand beside his wife if she attended a suffragette meeting, not one who would ignore her or chastise or even forbid her from supporting her belief in equality between the sexes.
But such a man did not exist, at least as far as she could tell.
Rowena got off the bed and came over to stand behind Milly, leaning down a few inches to peer at her own reflection in the mirror. She tweaked the bodice of her gown, tugging it up a little rather than down as most young ladies might.
“I don’t think dancing would ever become tedious, but I am so clumsy when I’m nervous. What if I trod on my partner’s toes?” Her little sister bit her bottom lip nervously.
“You’ll do fine, Rowena. Stay close to me if you get nervous.” Milly pinched her cheeks to pinken them a bit before she stood and reached for her black evening gloves.
“I do so love that gown,” Rowena sighed.
Milly checked her figure in the full mirror by the dresser.
It was a wonderful gown of sapphire blue silk with gold and black netting of lace over the bodice.
The netting split apart down the front of her dress below her waist to allow the sapphire paneling to show through as she walked.
The train was a little long, but the slight bustle at the back displayed her figure to its best advantage.
Constance shared a little smile with Milly as they both caught Rowena smoothing a hand over her hair before she faced them.
“How do I look?” She performed a little pirouette, her eyes shining with excitement and youth.
“You look splendid, as always.” Milly clasped her little sister’s hands, glad that with her sister she could be herself, if only a few minutes longer.
“Shall we go down to dinner?” she asked.
“Yes.” Rowena raised her chin, a self-confidant smile replacing the girlish eagerness as though she’d become a different woman in an instant.
They departed her room, which lay in the east wing of Hampton House, where most of the guests were staying for the dinner party.
A group of gentlemen and a few ladies were waiting at the bottom of the grand staircase for the other guests to come down.
All eyes turned to Milly and Rowena as they came into view.
Milly paused, letting Rowena have her moment to collect the admiration of the room.
Enjoy it, little sister. Someday you will have to choose your path—wife or spinster.
Until she did, Rowena could enjoy her first dinner party.
Milly glanced at the faces below and froze.
There was one man down there she had no intention of interacting with unless forced.
He hadn’t been on the formal guest list but had to have been a last-minute addition.
His presence wouldn’t have stopped her from coming, but lord she so hated to be around men like him…
After the last house party at Hampton House, she’d been determined to avoid him if possible.
Mr. Owen Hadley was a fortune hunter. A man like that was dangerous.
They cared little or not at all for the women they seduced in an attempt to find suitable heiresses.
She stared hard at the man’s face for a moment longer, wishing she could will him to disappear.
But he stayed right where he was, his presence mocking her for her inability to make him vanish.
His scandalous reputation preceded him, and he left a trail of broken hearts and unmarried ladies who lacked the wealth it was rumored he was seeking behind him.
She’d heard far too much about Hadley’s history with women.
How he’d worked his way into many beds, but the widowed ladies knew better than to marry him.
A rich widow had the world at her fingertips, and very rarely did those ladies remarry, because it meant turning over their freedom and money to their new husbands.
Milly had to applaud those widows for turning the fortune hunter away.
Mr. Hadley was a temptation to sin for any woman.
Even Milly had to admit that as he stood there in his evening suit, dark hair long enough to look a tad too roguish to be fashionable, and that grin that melted a woman’s resistance, he looked good.
He was tall, too tall, but perfect for her, not that she liked that—she didn’t, of course.
She preferred to be an equal height to men, and given that she possessed a little more height than many young ladies, most men of her acquaintance weren’t taller than her.
Hadley, however, was too tall, almost a head above Milly. It made her feel…vulnerable.
Hadley laughed at something the Earl of Hampton said and then glanced up the stairs. His eyes flicked over her briefly, a hint of a frown touching his sensual lips; then his focus turned to Rowena and damn him, the man’s hazel eyes lit up with a piercing fire.
Milly’s stomach clenched and she froze on the stairs, one gloved hand clasped to her breast.
Rowena. Not her sweet Rowena. The man could seduce any lady, but not her little sister. Rowena needed a good match. Scandal would ruin her beyond redemption and she would be forced out of polite society.
I will have to distract him, even if it will be most distasteful.
Squaring her shoulders, Milly walked down the last two steps and greeted her hosts. The Dowager Countess of Hampton; her soon-to-be-husband, Mr. Leighton; and his daughter, Ivy, along with Leo Graham, the Earl of Hampton.
“You look splendid,” Ivy said as she took Milly’s arm.
Milly never failed to be surprised at Ivy Leighton’s friendliness.
The young woman was half Gypsy by her father, and her mother had been a lady’s maid.
It was in every instinct Milly possessed to treat Ivy coolly given her status as nouveau riche, which happened to be below Milly’s own long-generation titled lineage.
The first time they’d been introduced, Milly had certainly acted unpleasant.
She regretted that. Immensely. Her frustration with Leo’s intent to propose to her had put a damper on her mood.
Milly had been so focused on convincing the earl that she wasn’t a good match for him that she’d acted rather callously and arrogantly with regard to everyone around her.
Ivy had been a victim of her behavior, and in the last few weeks Milly had made every effort to be deserving of the friendship that Ivy offered.
Ivy had been persistent, and Milly had found herself unable to dislike the young woman once they’d spent a few afternoon teas together discussing literature and politics. They had much in common in their views with regard to women and the rights they unfairly lacked in society.
Milly tilted her head close to Ivy to whisper, “What is Mr. Hadley doing here? As I understood it, he and Lord Hampton had a falling out at the last house party.” It had been quite a scandal. Mr. Hadley had left during the middle of a shooting party with a black eye and a sour temper.
Milly allowed Ivy to guide her away from the other guests into an alcove where they could have a small amount of privacy. Ivy’s bright caramel eyes darkened a little.
“I’m not sure, but Leo insists they are still friends and that Mr. Hadley no longer has intentions of trying to steal me from Leo.”
Milly huffed in reply. “Of course he doesn’t, because he’s eyeing my sister like a fine glass of sherry he wants to taste.” She glowered at the accused seducer, hoping that he could feel the sting of her gaze. He turned and raised one brow in challenge at her from across the room.
“Milly,” Ivy gasped, but it soon turned to a giggle as she followed Milly’s fixed attention.
“He does look a little too interested. It’s a good thing the seating arrangement at dinner keeps him away from Rowena.”
Milly touched her throat as she readjusted the diamond necklace that lay against her collarbone. “Who’s the unfortunate party guest that must endure his conversation?”
Ivy shot her a sideways glance. “Why you, Milly dear.”
For a moment, Milly simply couldn’t process what her friend had just told her. She’d been resolved to distract him from Rowena but that didn’t include seating next to the odious man at dinner.
“Absolutely no—” Milly was silenced as the butler announced dinner was prepared. “Ivy, I’m not sitting next to that man,” she hissed in her friend’s ear.
Ivy merely laughed. “Someone has to and who better than you? I think you’re a perfect match in ill tempers.
” The teasing comment made Milly frown deeply.
Even though she’d been seemingly ill-tempered on purpose, it wasn’t who she really was.
Deep down, she was a woman who wanted love and laughter in her life.
But a man like Hadley would never see the real her, nor would a man like him want a real partner in life.
He only wanted a wife for money. He embodied everything she hated.