“The thing is, John will not tell me what exactly you spoke about. He only gushed about seeing you and catching fish and something about man talk.” She grinned over the rim of her wine glass before taking a sip.
Preston relaxed. “He is a fine lad.”
“He is too smart for his own good.” She stepped closer and whispered, “You cannot bolt across the room and attack Mr. Braighton for speaking to her. Take a few breaths and calm yourself. Now, laugh as if I’ve made a joke.”
She was right. He hadn’t been thinking. Laughing as instructed, he leaned in. “You’re right, of course. Thank you.”
“I understand you’re hunting in the morning?” She took his arm and strolled around the room.
Using the distraction to calm himself, he didn’t fight the useless turn that ladies favored. “Yes, we hope to disrupt a few coveys, and perhaps if we do, there’ll be quail for supper.”
“Delightful. I have always admired the notion of hunting.”
Unable to hold back a chuckle, he said, “That surprises me, Your Grace. You hardly seem the type.”
With a shrug, she laughed. “Not the killing of animals, but I like the idea of rising before dawn and traipsing about with one’s friends. Of course, it is unlikely that any of my lady friends would rise before ten.”
“That would make hunting quite difficult. You are welcome to come with us tomorrow if you are keen to muck about with the men.” It was a fun image but spoiled by laughter from Millicent and Anthony.
They drew close to the conversation, and Elinor turned toward the pair. “You two seem amused. May we join you?”
Grinning, Anthony stood. “Yes, please. We were just talking about my sister and her family. I was telling Miss Edgebrook about my nephew Charles and how he is learning to be as fine a mimic as his mother. He favors the sounds of animals rather than people and had me convinced a mouse lurked in the parlor on my last visit.”
Gripping her fan to her chest, Elinor beamed. “I must go and visit soon. I so miss the days when we were all together all the time.”
Anthony’s sister, Sophia, was the Countess of Marlton and one of Elinor’s closest friends. The beautiful American had charmed the Earl of Marlton in an instant. Preston watched the way talk of families made Millicent happy and uncomfortable at once. “Braighton, you have a niece as well, don’t you?”
“Angelina is a year and a half and the sweetest little thing. She had my heart the moment I first laid eyes on her. My brother-in-law is wrapped around her finger. They will come to London in a few weeks. I look forward to seeing them. My mother is in Italy, but we will all be together for Christmas at Marlton.”
Millicent plucked at the edge of the pillow next to her. “You are lucky to have such a large family.”
Only Preston would notice the telling fidget, but it broke his heart.
Oblivious, Anthony nodded. “It is why I took on a partner to run the American side of my company. I couldn’t bear to leave my family for years at a time. Coming back to England has been good for us all.”
Elinor said, “How long has your mother been in Italy? Sophia didn’t mention it in her last letter.”
“She left last week and will stay at least a month.”
Millicent’s eyes grew far away. “I have always wanted to see Italy. What is your mother doing there?”
“Mother is Italian. She is visiting her mother and about twenty cousins.”
Face alight with interest, Millicent looked at Anthony with that light shining in her eyes. “It must be tremendous to see such places.”
Shrugging, Anthony said, “I suppose I take it for granted. I have been to Italy many times. Mother and I spent a year there when I was ten. It is another home for me.”
The more Millicent gazed at Anthony, the more Preston wanted to crush him. “If you will all excuse me, I have a few items to take care of before I find my bed tonight.”
Millicent stared at him with questions sliding across her face but not saying a word.
He made his apologies and went to his father’s hidden study. Pacing the room, he clutched his hands into fists. If Millicent married Anthony Braighton, she could travel and have her dream. He was American and forward-thinking. He wouldn’t hold her back. She could be safe and do good things.
Anger erupted like an Italian volcano. Preston punched the wall. Pain shot through his knuckles, up his arm, and radiated through his shoulder. The wall did not give and left his hand bloody.
Sitting on the couch, he closed his eyes and let the pain subside. He hadn’t lost his temper so thoroughly since the day his father died. He’d been young then, not quite twenty. It had been his excuse for breaking furniture in his distress. There was no excuse for punching a wall over a woman who was not his.
Ordering himself to breathe, he kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t let any woman destroy him this way.
The clock on the wall struck midnight, and he continued to sit quietly. At one o’clock he gave up on her coming to play chess and talk. Before he went upstairs, he checked to make sure all his guests were abed. He found the bachelor’s parlor empty, checked the great parlor and poked his head in the library. Ready to head up the steps, he heard the rustle of cloth and stepped back inside the library. “Hello?”
A gasp. Millicent appeared from the shadowed corner. Her nightgown and robe were pale blue and fit her better than the voluminous nightclothes she’d worn the past nights. This must have been part of her purchases in the village. “Preston. What are you doing?”
He closed the door and left them in only the light of the full moon shining through the window. “I was checking the house before bed. Are you all right?”
“I… I needed a new book.” She held up a small black volume.
“You cannot stay awake indefinitely, sweetheart.”
Pursing her lips, she edged closer to the door. “I realize that, but for now I will read and hope exhaustion forces the issue.”
“If you would talk about your fears, it would help. You slept when I held you. I would hold you tonight and give you sleep.” His body longed to hold her and more. The more would wait, but just to be next to her and give her peace would be a kind of satisfaction.
“No. Thank you, but no.” Even in the shadowy moonlight, he detected her throat bob as she swallowed.
He couldn’t understand her resistance and wasn’t ready to say good night. “You didn’t come for our talk.”
“You were irritated when you left the gathering. I thought it best to let you be alone.”
He’d kept composed until he was alone, yet she had known his state. “How do you know I was angry?”
A shrug. “Your ears were red. Whenever you are unhappy or annoyed, they turn red.”
He would have to work on his composure. “Do you know why I was angry, Millicent?”
“No. Perhaps something Mr. Braighton said or a conversation at the card table. The baroness can elicit rage in anyone. She is very unpleasant.”
Lord, she was stunning, and he just wanted to hold her and never let her go. “I was jealous.”
Those kissable lips pursed, and she cocked her head. “Oh, of whom?”
“You and Anthony.”
Eyes wide, she looked everywhere but at him before her gaze settled on his hand. “You’re bleeding. What happened?”
“I stupidly fought with the wall, and the wall won.”
Coming forward, she took his hand and examined the bruises on his bloody knuckles. “You shouldn’t be jealous, and certainly not of me.”
“Yet, I was.” Her touch vibrated through him from the warmth of her fingers to every inch of his body, head to toe and all the spaces between.
Letting go, she took a step back and said, “Be sure to clean those cuts before you go to bed. You should ice the hand, or you’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“You plan to ignore that my jealousy was about you and another man?”
She nodded. “It’s for the best.”
The fact that she was right did not make it any less annoying. Swallowing down a dozen pleas and complaints, he asked, “When do you want to discuss the developments in your Everton assignment?”
“After the picnic tomorrow, most of the guests will want to rest. I will meet you then.” Going around him, she walked to the door. “Good night, Preston.”
“Try to sleep, sweetheart.” He hated her distance. She cared for him. He knew she did, but something kept her from seeing him as a possible future for her. Letting temper and jealousy interfere with good sense and a solid plan had been foolish. It wouldn’t happen again.
Chapter 17
Millie’s resolve to make their relationship all business continued to slip. She longed to have him hold her while she slept, as without him, she found barely an hour’s rest a night. The exhaustion was wearing on her, but every time she closed her eyes, the house exploded in flames and people died before her eyes.
Deciding she should be stronger than that, she went back to her room after breaking her fast. Perhaps the light of day would relieve her terrors. Her eyelids weighed a stone each as she pulled the coverlet over herself and closed her eyes.
Dead bodies lay half-sunken in the mud. Thunder crashed with explosions. Men screamed, and she was dragged through the muck. She wanted to help. Tried to help. A woman lay in a blue dress, her face obscured by mud. Millie pulled her shoulders to turn the woman over. Maybe she could help.
Eye’s wide, black, and empty, Mother stared back at her. “Why didn’t you save me, Millicent?”
Gasping, she sat up in bed, her face wet with tears.
Someone knocked on her door.
By the time she stopped shaking enough to stand, the knock sounded again.
Beauty whimpered and leaned against her leg.
She gained comfort from petting the dog’s soft fur. “Good girl.”
She wiped her face and opened the door.
Preston’s smile faded as soon as he saw her. “My God, what’s happened?” He backed her into the room, checked the hallway and closed the door.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She lied.
“You look ill. What happened?” He ran his knuckles along her cheek.
Beauty barked and jumped excitedly.
Millie hadn’t seen the dog behave this way before. “What’s gotten into you?”
Preston scratched Beauty’s ear. “It’s not her fault. I brought an interloper.” He held up a tiny gray kitten the size of his palm.
Taking the kitten and rubbing it under her chin, Millie reveled in the soft sweetness. “Where did it come from?”
Beauty wagged her tail and bounced on her front legs, barking sharply.
“We found two in a thicket by the stream while hunting this morning. Lady Helena has taken custody of the other one, and I thought you might like to have this one.”
“Oh my, do you think Beauty will kill the poor thing?” She held the ball of fur away from the excited dog.
Taking the kitten from her hands, he ordered Beauty to sit. “There is only one way to find out, but I suspect your Beauty is a not a killer.”
Once Beauty settled on her haunches, wagging happily and tongue hanging out, Preston showed her the kitten. Beauty inched closer and stretched her neck to sniff the baby.
The kitten reached out with a paw and patted Beauty’s nose.
Beauty licked the kitten from nose to ears wetting its long fur.
Joy that she thought had been lost to nightmares and lack of sleep flooded Millie. “Oh, how sweet. I shall call him Thicket.”
“A fine name.” Preston put the kitten on the floor, and they watched as Beauty herded Thicket to her pallet next to the bed. Soon the two were curled up comfortably for a nap.
Millie checked the clock and realized she’d slept a barely thirty minutes. “Thank you, Preston. I’m gathering quite a menagerie on this journey.”
“I can ask at the barn and see if they need a mouser if you don’t want him.”
“No. I want him. I’m sure he will fit right in wherever I live. He survived the thicket, he can survive Everton House.”
He thumbed away a tear that lingered on her cheek. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“It was just a nightmare. I’m well. I admit the images shook me, but they’re not real.” She wanted to believe it as much as she wanted him to. Why had Mother been in her nightmare? It didn’t make any sense. Mother had been dead for almost ten years.
Narrowing his eyes, Preston leaned against the wall. “Tell me about the dream?”
“You shouldn’t even be in my room. If you are caught here, it would be a disaster for both of us.”
His ears pinked as his temper rose. “What disaster is that?”
“I would be gossiped about and lose my place at Everton’s, or you would be forced to marry me.” She tried to sound severe, but she was too tired and too shaken by the images of her dream. It just came out weary.
“Marrying you would not be a disaster, Millicent. At least, I would not consider it so. I would be honored to be your husband.”
Opening her mouth, she was at a loss for what to say. Did he want to marry her, or was he being ironic? Her brain couldn’t process the idea, and she failed to make any sound come out of her mouth.
Running his thumb across her lower lip, he closed the last few inches between them. “Now, tell me what you dreamed.”
Heart pounding since she’d woken, it now had another reason to beat out a running cadence. The window seat was as far as she could go to put distance between them, and she sat on the cushion, grabbed a lavender-colored pillow and hugged it to her chest like a shield. “I dreamed of the night at the inn. People died, and I couldn’t help anyone.”
Like a magnet, he crossed to her, stopping at her bedpost and leaning there. “Was that all?”
“My mother lay among the dead. She wanted to know why I hadn’t saved her.” Maybe he had some power over her that forced the truth out of her even when she firmly refused to speak of her horrors. Another tear streamed down her cheek.
“You could not have saved your parents, nor could you have saved the man at the inn. We were lucky to get out of there alive.” His eyes mirrored her sorrow.
It was impossible, but he knew her pain and shared her burden. “When my parents became ill, they would not allow a doctor to be called. I begged them to send someone for help, but they refused. Three days later, they were too ill to complain, and I sent the footman to fetch the doctor. He did what he could, but they were too sick.”
His ears turned bright red, and he looked ready to come out of his skin. He spoke with total calm. “Do you think they would have lived if you had disobeyed them and called earlier?”
“The doctor didn’t think so. He said I had done all anyone could. He praised me for trying to keep their fevers down and said he could have done little more.”
“But you do not believe what he said. You blame yourself for your parents’ fate.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Sitting back into the window seat, she rested her head against the cool glass. Ten years might have been yesterday. The man at the inn dying in the mud brought back all those feelings of helplessness, and just like that, she was a fifteen-year-old girl charged with choosing how to save a life. “I wanted to save them. It never occurred to me that they would die when they first became ill. Several of the staff became ill as well, and some of them lived, but not Mother and Father. They slipped away, and there was nothing anyone could do. Yet the guilt is still with me. Intellectually, I recognize I could do nothing, but emotionally, I wanted to fix my mistakes and have them back.”
“You have had nightmares before.” He’d come to know her too well during thei
r short acquaintance.
She nodded. “For the first year after they died, they haunted my sleep.”
“So, you have only slept when we were together since the night at the inn?” The muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Yes.” Clouds rolled in from the north. They reminded her of how Preston consumed her life as if he had always been there.
“Then why not let me ease your burden?”
She loved his compassion and the way he cared for her. “Because a long time ago, I determined that I would never let any man control my life. Letting you hold me so I can sleep would be too close to giving over control.”
Thicket mewed and spit as he whacked Beauty’s wagging tail. The distraction was a welcome one.
“I shall have to convince you that I should never like to control you, Millicent. Your notions of romance are colored by a man who had no honor. I can understand your misconception.”
She opened her mouth to tell him he could never change her mind, but he held up a hand to stop her words.
“It doesn’t matter what you say about what you’ve seen and what you know. What we have would be different because I know you. I know what you need and would never try to change the woman you are. I have no mold I want you to conform to and no ideal woman to make you live up to. You are what I want, just as you are.
“Please do not say anything. I’m going to leave now. Thank you for sharing such a personal story. It means quite a lot to me to have you entrust me with such a personal recollection. Hopefully sharing these thoughts will ease some of your burden and allow you a few hours’ sleep.” He strode to the door.
Her mind was a whirl with all he had said. No appropriate response came to her. She had to speak before he left. “Preston, thank you. You are a good friend to me.”
Turning back with his hand on the doorknob, he smiled though it was a little sad. “I shall always be available to you, sweetheart.”
* * * *
After he left, she stayed on the window seat and dozed off for nearly two hours until she woke with Thicket purring on her chest and Beauty lying on the floor beside the window seat.
A Lady's Escape Page 22
