by Amelia Grey
“Good. There is some mystery left me.”
“Maybe,” he said with a half smile.
Her senses perked up again and put her on guard. “What do you mean?”
“Doulton discovered that your mother was ruined by scandal during her come-out season, and that her father married her off to the earl of Bellecourte, a man more than twice her age. You were born two years later. And I know that Lady Beatrice is your aunt. Why did you keep that a secret?”
“My aunt thought it best that no one know of our relation so they wouldn’t be inclined to ask me too many questions. And you, sir, were the only one who queried me at length.”
“You fascinated me.”
Her heart lifted. “Why go see my mother? It appears you had already found out all there was to know about me.”
“Not quite. I knew about your family, Millicent, before you stayed with me in my town house.”
“You didn’t say a word. You should have told me.”
“I wanted you to trust me. I wanted you to tell me what I already knew.”
“Perhaps I should have,” she admitted, wondering if things would have turned out differently if she had told him.
“I tried desperately to get you to confide in me about yourself that morning we were together and again later that day when I called, but you refused to see me.”
“I remember.”
“I had to take this matter further without you. That’s when I decided to go see your mother. I rode like the devil day and night, changing horses often to get to your mother’s house as soon as possible.”
Fear gripped Millicent. “Did you tell her what I’ve been doing?”
“No.”
“Thank you. I know she wouldn’t understand why I had to do it,” she whispered, breathing easier, grateful he hadn’t told her mother that she wrote tittle-tattle. There was still hope that she could keep that bit of information from her.
“I quizzed your mother at length, thinking if she knew, she would tell me, but it became clear that she knew only that you were a companion to your ailing aunt and that you had no other mission in London.”
“Good.”
“It wasn’t good for me. I was convinced someone was forcing you to write for the gossips and it was driving me insane. I couldn’t bear the thought that anyone had that kind of control over you. Then, on the carriage trip back to London with your mother, I figured it all out.”
Millicent stiffened again, but tried not to let it show. Did he really know or was he only trying to bluff her into telling him what he wanted to know?
“You figured out what?”
A satisfied smile settled on his mouth. “Not what. Who I know who is forcing you to write for Lord Truefitt.”
Millicent spoke softly, “Chandler, you need not worry on my behalf. No one is forcing me to do anything.”
“You’re doing it because someone asked you to?”
“Yes.”
“Someone very close to you that you care about?”
“I’m not prepared to say any more on the subject.”
“You don’t have to. Your aunt is Lord Truefitt, isn’t she? The lord is really a lady.”
“Yes. How did you figure it out?” Millicent let out a deep breath of relief. It actually felt good to admit the truth to him.
“It was the only logical answer. Lady Beatrice was obviously ill and couldn’t attend the parties and events, so she had you attend for her and gather the information.”
Millicent leaned close to Chandler. “I must ask you not to tell anyone, Lord Dunraven. After Aunt Beatrice fell and hurt herself, she sent for me to come and take over until she recovered. I didn’t want to do it, and I wasn’t very good at it.”
“Don’t be modest. I thought you very good at it. You had me fooled and you had Andrew ready to find you and expose Lord Truefitt.”
“Do not make light of this for my aunt’s sake. I couldn’t refuse my father’s sister. I don’t care about my reputation. It is ruined anyway, but if the information about her gets out she will lose her employment and be forced to leave London in shame. I don’t want that for her.”
“Millicent, you don’t have to ask. Your aunt’s secret is safe with me.”
Her breaths became shallow. She believed him. Millicent wanted to melt into his arms. He knew how to calm her with just his expression. “Thank you,” she said, then asked, “How exactly did you convince my mother to come to London with you?”
“Oh, that was easy.”
“I know my mother, sir, and it would not have been an easy task. What did you tell her?”
“Not tell her, ask her. I asked for your hand in marriage.”
“Oh, no. Chandler, why bring my mother into this? She will not force me to marry you, I assure you. I refuse to marry you simply because we had that short time alone together in your parlor.”
“I don’t want you to marry me because of that, although that is reason enough.” His voice lowered. “I want you to marry me because you love me as I love you. You do love me, don’t you?”
Millicent opened her mouth to speak, but for a few seconds no words came out. She was too stunned, too elated, too confused. “Yes. Oh, yes, I love you, but I’ve written for the gossip sheets, and now they have written about me and my reputation has been ruined. I’m not a suitable wife for you, Chandler.”
“Yes, you are. None of the things you mentioned concern me, I love you.”
She bent closer to him. “I never thought to hear you say such words. Are you sure you love me?”
“I’m not in any doubt about my feelings for you.”
“You aren’t just saying this because you feel obliged because of what happened between us, or about what was written in Lord Truefitt’s column?”
“I love you, Millicent.”
He couldn’t have said it any plainer, but still she couldn’t believe him. She couldn’t believe such an impossible dream could come true. “How?”
“How do I love you? Must I count the ways?”
“How do you know you love me when there have been so many women in your life?”
“It’s true, I’ve never been in love before—not really in love the way I feel about you. You are the first woman I’ve wanted to be with night and day. I not only want you in my arms and in my bed, I want you in my home living with me, having my children.” His eyes looked deeply into hers. “Millicent, just trust me when I say that you are the lady I want forever in my life.”
A smile slowly spread across Millicent’s lips and joy filled her. “I love you, Chandler.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. First thing tomorrow morning I’m going to apply for a special license so we can be married. That’s another reason that I needed your mother here. You do want her at the wedding, don’t you?”
“Of course.” She went into his arms and he held her tightly for a moment, then quickly turned her loose.
“We can’t have your mother catching us in an intimate embrace.”
Millicent smiled sweetly at him. “What will she do? Make you marry me?”
Chandler laughed. “She’s already consented. Your mother happens to think I’m a very good catch.”
“No wonder she was in such a good mood when she arrived. She has wanted me to marry.” Millicent paused and said, “Chandler, I have a favor to ask of you.”
He smiled. “Whatever it is, I’ll do.”
“Maybe if you could talk with Lord Heathecoute. If you could help his lady by talking to the authorities maybe he won’t expose Aunt Beatrice as Lord Truefitt.”
“Does he know who she is?”
“Yes. He and the viscountess are the only two in Town who know other than her contact at The Daily Reader and, of course, me and now you. Oh, so many people know it will be difficult to keep her identity a secret.”
“Don’t worry about Lady Beatrice. I meant it when I said your aunt will never be in need for anything. I’ll take care of her.” He smiled at her. “In a matter of
a few days you will be my wife. Your family will be my family.”
“Chandler, I am so happy you love me, but you do understand I’ll have to continue the columns for my aunt until she’s better.”
He pressed a finger on her lips. “No.”
“Yes, I must,” she nodded and talked beneath the light pressure of his finger.
“No, Millicent. She will have to find someone else to do her spying.”
“I don’t know who—” she stopped. “But of course I do. I’ll ask Lady Lynette.”
Chandler removed his finger and took hold of her hand. “The duke’s daughter?”
“Yes, she loves gossip.”
“Millicent, I’m sure all that can be worked out so that you are not involved.”
Millicent laughed and squeezed Chandler’s hand. “I must write one last column.”
“And why must you?”
“‘Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,’ and so too can the ton be comforted that the first of the Terrible Threesome has been caught. It is on good authority that I report Lord Dunraven has applied for a special license to wed Miss Millicent Blair.”
He scooted closer to her on the bench. “I think I’m agreeable to you writing that one last column.”
Millicent looked up into his eyes. “Are you sure you love me, Chandler?”
“‘Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.’ Yes, Millicent, I love you.”
“And I love you, Chandler.”
He slipped closer to her on the bench and pressed her hand to his heart. “Will you marry me?”
Millicent smiled up into his eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chandler pulled Millicent into his arms and kissed her thoroughly on the lips.
Millicent thrilled to his touch.
About the Author
Amelia Grey grew up in a small town in the Florida Panhandle. She has been happily married to her high school sweetheart for more than thirty-five years.
Amelia has won the Booksellers Best Award and Aspen Gold Award for writing as Amelia Grey. Writing as Gloria Dale Skinner, she has won the coveted RT Book Reviews award for Love and Laughter, the Maggie Award, and the Affaire de Coeur Award. Her books have been sold in many countries in Europe, in Russia, and in China, and they have also been featured in Doubleday and Rhapsody Book Clubs.
Amelia loves flowers, candlelight, sweet smiles, gentle laughter, and sunshine.
