The Winston Millie had first met in Paris would never have pursued anyone to the Mediterranean. Why go to such trouble, when there were so many willing women within arm’s reach?
From the moment she’d first let him touch her, she hadn’t been the same.
“I don’t need him,” she told Josephine now.
“No, I don’t suppose you do.” Josephine looked at her thoughtfully. “But the heart hardly cares what one needs, does it? The heart is mostly concerned with what one wants.”
* * *
HE WAS A bloody coward.
Winston stood at the edge of the villa’s main courtyard, with his hands on the stone railing, looking through the trees at the turquoise water below. There wasn’t to be a moment’s peace, because Rutledge joined him at the railing.
“Thought you might like a drink,” he said, offering Winston a glass of arak.
“Thank you.”
Rutledge looked out at the view. “Never loved anything so much as a warm Mediterranean afternoon and a fine glass of liquor.”
Winston needed to figure out how and when he was going to ask Millicent to marry him.
“If you’ve got intentions toward Miss Germain,” Rutledge said after a moment, “perhaps you ought to let Jaxbury know about it.”
“My intentions are none of Jaxbury’s goddamned business.” Winston knocked back a swallow of the milky-white arak, felt the bite of licorice on his tongue.
“He sees Miss Germain as his responsibility.”
But Millicent was Winston’s responsibility. He wanted her to be, for the rest of his life. He wanted to care for her, hold her, give her everything he had.
“I love her.” The words came out without him meaning them to, and he looked sharply at Rutledge, who merely regarded him in return. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“Congratulations,” Rutledge said.
“Bit soon for that, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
Winston looked at him. “What if she doesn’t accept me?”
Rutledge raised a brow. “Forgive me, but what woman would not accept a man of your rank?”
“Millicent,” he said flatly.
And then something behind them caught Rutledge’s eye. Winston turned...and saw Millicent standing there at the corner of the house, fully within earshot of their conversation, looking at him in disbelief.
Rutledge sipped his drink and turned away from the railing. “I think I had better go see what Josephine is doing.”
* * *
I’M GOING TO ask her to marry me.
Millie stared at Winston, caught, unable to pretend she hadn’t heard what he said.
Her heart raced wildly, and everything except him seemed to fade away. It was difficult to breathe. She felt suspended in time with his words pulsing inside her.
“Millicent...” His voice was rough. The breeze toyed with his dark hair while he watched her with eyes full of longing...and love.
He came forward, wearing his simple sailor’s clothes, and took her hand. He touched her face, a gentle brush of his fingers against her cheek and his thumb along her lips.
“I love you,” he said. “Since the moment I met you, there hasn’t been anyone else. Not even in the weeks we were separated. And there never will be. I can’t even stomach the thought of it. When I thought I might have lost you—” His expression darkened, and he let out a breath. “Nothing could compare to the fear I felt.”
Perhaps she hadn’t known what to expect from Winston at all.
But he didn’t know the whole truth. He didn’t know about the baby. “Winston—”
“Shh.” He put his finger over her lips. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. I meant to ask the second you awoke. I’ve been a coward these past two days, unable to find the right time, the right place.”
“Winston, there’s something you need to know.”
He shook his head. “You’ve already said you don’t need me. I know that,” he said, searching her eyes. “But is it possible you could want me? Choose me?”
Dear God, yes. Yes. But—
“Millicent Germain...” He sank to one knee in front of her and took both of her hands, kissing them, and looking up at her. “Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
His question soared through her, filled her heart, made her blood sing. And new tears sprang to her eyes because he loved her that much, and because...
“I am with child,” she confessed instead of answering, barely able to push the words out past the fear that the news might change everything.
It took all of her willpower to make herself meet his eyes. And what she saw there was...
Shock...and joy.
“A child?” He got to his feet. “Truly?” His gaze raked over her as if she’d suddenly turned to glass. “Good God, you shouldn’t be standing.” He glanced toward the table and chairs on the patio, and then— “Holy hell. The attack on the ship, the fighting—” Stunned, he looked at her belly, and she could see him reliving the terror of those hours knowing now that the baby, too, had been in danger.
“I won’t hold you to what you’ve asked me,” she said, and tried to step back, but he wouldn’t let her. “If you need time to consider—”
“Time to consider?” He pulled her closer and held her gently, mindful of her shoulder. “Millicent, the only thing I want to consider is how quickly I can make you my wife. Please tell me you can trust me that much.”
Emotion clogged her throat. He really, truly wanted her for his own. The truth of it took wing, and she reached for his face, standing on tiptoe to kiss his lips. “I do trust you. And I love you—so much more than I know how to say. And yes—” an unsteady smile tugged at her lips “—I will be your wife.”
It was like a dream, and she barely had the chance to accept that it was real before he kissed her in return—deeply, thoroughly, lovingly—with the Mediterranean sunshine caressing them with its warmth and the sound of waves drifting up from the turquoise sea below, whispering through the ancient olive grove clinging to the terraced hillside.
“I vow myself to you, and our child, completely,” he told her, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “You have my solemn promise. Forever.”
EPILOGUE
“EDWARD, TALK WITH Winston and make him see reason,” Millie said, seated on a picnic blanket near the old mill in the village at the Winston estate. “He’ll listen to you.”
Sunshine filtered through the trees onto the grassy spot by the river. Food enough for an entire regiment spilled out of a giant basket she and Winston had brought from the estate. Millie brushed a crumb from her greatly rounded belly and reached for another currant cake.
Winston plucked a dandelion flower and twirled it playfully beneath her chin. “If by reason you mean I should have allowed you to continue your studies until you were in danger of becoming a live birthing exhibition in front of the other students...”
“Winston! That would never happen.” The flower tickled, and Millie rubbed her chin, checking her fingers to see if he’d left a smudge of yellow pollen. Amusement creased Winston’s eyes, and even now her breath caught just looking at him.
The most magnificent man in all creation. And he was her husband.
“I daresay they would all be shocked as well as educated.” Cara laughed, shifting baby Matthew on her lap. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes glowed with happiness as she looked down at her child and adjusted his sleeves. “I still can’t believe you managed to conceal yourself in scholars’ robes for four months.”
“Four very short months.” By the time they’d traveled to Malta and Winston had used his influence to gain her admission to the surgical school, there hadn’t been much time before her pregnancy made it difficult to continue. Not that there was the least doubt that everyone knew the new young “man” at the school was the Duchess of Winston, but waddling belly-first through the corridors would have stretched the limits of
what people were willing to ignore.
In any case, Winston had insisted they return to England before she became so heavy with child that traveling would be dangerous. He’d been completely deaf to her argument that she could continue at the school and bear the child at their new home in Valletta.
But now, seeing Edward and Cara’s beautiful baby boy, she couldn’t regret that they’d returned. It was a wondrous thing to share in their joy, and not only that, Millie would have Cara by her side when her own time came.
“Afraid I can’t help you,” Edward told Millie now with a smile. “I’m in full agreement with your husband on this.”
Millie reached out and put her finger beneath Matthew’s tiny little hand. He curled a fist around her, and a flood of happiness and anticipation welled up in her heart—happiness for Cara and Edward, and anticipation for the child sitting full in her own belly.
“I expect you’ll have to be content pursuing your studies in fits and starts,” Cara said, sliding a knowing gaze Millie’s way.
Millie looked over her shoulder at Winston and hoped that Cara was right, and there would be many more babies interrupting her studies. She thought of the wonder that her life had become—the thrill of those months at the school, the blessing of Winston being hers forever. She had friends, a husband who loved her, more homes than a person had a right to...and soon, she would have a family.
It was everything she’d ever wanted, times ten. And it was perfect.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460338476
A Promise by Daylight
Copyright © 2014 by Black Canyon Creations, LLC
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