Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance

by Sasha Cottman

  When she walked through the front door on her father’s arm, Millie had felt as if she radiated light; now she was positively giddy with success. Every word that came from her lips seemed to be the perfect one. She laughed in all the right places in other people’s jokes, and her dancing was so light of foot, she barely touched the floor.

  ‘I just need a moment to catch up with Uncle Oscar, Millie. Are you all right to sit here until I return?’ Charles asked, as they stopped in front of a row of chairs on their way from the dance floor to the supper area. Charles had managed to get a dance with his sister late in the evening, but only after he had exchanged firm words with one eager young man who was adamant about his name being on Millie’s card for that particular dance.

  She called Charles to task for his behaviour as soon as they were out of earshot of the offended dance partner. ‘You didn’t have the right to push in, Charles. Mr Banks’ name was on my card.’

  ‘I wanted to dance with my lovely sister; besides Banks is only interested in your dowry. You could have turned up in a sack tonight and he still would have begged to dance with you. His father has just dropped a fortune on a failed mining venture in Scotland and the son desperately needs cash. Don’t go trading a mad rake like Lord Brooke for a gambler’s son, Millie. At least Brooke knows how to handle his blunt,’ he replied.

  As Charles headed off to find their uncle, Millie took a welcome rest on one of the comfortably padded chairs. Being the centre of attention for the evening was giving her sore feet. Why did new slippers always have to pinch? She gave the supper table a brief glance and wisely settled on a cup of tea offered by one of the Langham household staff.

  ‘He is so romantic, such a hero. I can’t believe he would be too shy to speak to her, but when I saw the letter I knew it was from him. She is the luckiest of girls,’ Millie’s ears pricked up; someone had a secret admirer.

  She sat quietly sipping on her tea, while straining to hear the conversation between two young women who had sat down several chairs away from her.

  ‘She received it yesterday, all the way from Scotland.’

  Millie recognised one of the girls as being Lady Clarice Langham’s friend, the one who had made such horrible comments about Millie at the Earl of Shale’s ball. Lady Susan something or other was her name. They had never been formally introduced, but she knew exactly the kind of girl Susan was: a spiteful gossip who took pleasure in other people’s misery.

  ‘So do you think Clarice will have him?’ the other girl asked.

  Millie stared at her tea. Lucy had confided to her that David carried a flame for Lady Clarice Langham. Now it would appear he had finally mustered the courage, albeit from afar, to speak his heart. She smiled. After all that had happened, she still liked David and wished him happiness.

  Lady Susan let out a large sigh of disgust and replied loudly.

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course she will have him. He is handsome and funny, and one day she will be a duchess. One does not get a love letter from Lord Brooke and put it in the top drawer, never to be read again. This is going to be the wedding of the season, and it’s only April.’

  A hot flush raced up Millie’s neck to her face. The china teacup rattled as she gripped the edge of the saucer tightly in her hand. She wasn’t sure if her breath had caught in her throat; she knew only that she couldn’t breathe. She gritted her teeth and slowly lifted her head. As her eyes rose, she began to frantically survey the ballroom, searching for any sign of salvation.

  ‘Isn’t that Millie Ashton, Lady Lucy’s friend?’ the girl who was not Susan asked. ‘Why yes, I do believe it is; though since the letter only arrived yesterday, chances are she has not heard about Lord Brooke and Clarice. More’s the pity,’ Lady Susan replied, in a voice too loud for what should have been a private conversation

  The two girls stood and walked away. As they passed in front of Millie, Susan looked over her shoulder and gave Millie a self-satisfied smile, leaving no doubt as to why she had chosen that particular place, and that exact moment, to divulge Lady Clarice’s good news. Susan had wished to see the results of her handiwork: to see the heartbreak written all over Millie’s face.

  With a brittle smile painted on her lips, Millie looked away and waved to an imaginary person across the room. She would rather die than give Susan any kind of satisfaction.

  When Charles returned to his sister’s side a little while later, she was white-faced and trembling. ‘Millie?’ Charles asked.

  Without looking up, she offered him her hand. ‘I need to leave, Charles,’ she replied. ‘Now, please, if you don’t mind. I would walk home, but Mama paid a small fortune for these slippers and it wouldn’t do to ruin a second pair. I need my outside shoes and my coat, please.’ She pointed in the direction of the ladies’ cloakroom.

  Charles looked at her crestfallen face and took hold of both her hands.

  ‘What has happened? You were all light and gay when I left, and now you look as if you are about to face the executioner.’

  ‘He’s getting married,’ she said, without emotion.

  ‘Who? Who is getting married?’ he replied, perplexed

  She closed her eyes and whispered. ‘Alex.’

  Charles sighed.

  Millie sucked in a deep breath. ‘He wrote a love letter to Lady Clarice Langham, and everyone knows. Or if they don’t, that horrid Susan will have it all around the room by the end of the night. Please Charles, I cannot bear to face Clarice; you have to take me home.’

  Her brother let go of her hand. ‘No,’ he replied.

  ‘What?’

  He shook his head, and then to make certain she understood his meaning, he put an arm around her and steered her back towards the main ballroom. ‘No, I am not taking you home, Millie. Nor am I going to allow you to sit and mope in a dark corner all evening. You have been the centre of fun and laughter tonight, and as far as I am concerned, our work here is not yet done.’

  ‘But —’ Millie stammered.

  ‘But nothing.’ Charles waved his hand in the air. ‘Don’t tell me, because I can tell you the story myself. You, along with most other young women in London, allowed yourself to fall in love with Lord Brooke. He paid you some attention and you thought he was a gift sent from heaven just for you. Shall I go on?’

  Millie shrugged her shoulders and Charles continued. ‘As soon as he sensed you were getting in too deep, he took a large step backwards. Or to be more accurate, fled to Scotland.’

  Charles stopped a passing footman and took two glasses of champagne from a well-laden tray. He handed one of the glasses to Millie. ‘Here’s a toast to your bruised heart, Millie. Wear it with pride, and learn the lesson well.’

  He downed the contents of his glass in one swig and then pointed the empty glass in the direction of Millie’s still full one. ‘Come on, we have a long night of it ahead. It’s time you saw your first London dawn while still in your evening clothes.’

  Millie looked at the glass in her hand and gave a tentative laugh. If ever there was a defining moment in her quest to be accepted by the ton, this was it. The gown, exquisite though it was, served only as a thin layer of decoration; how she handled herself in the face of possible public humiliation was the true test of how far she had come in the past few weeks. If she did encounter Lady Clarice Langham, it would be with all the grace and humour she could muster.

  She took one small sip of the champagne and pulled the glass from her lips. ‘Just don’t allow me to ruin this dress – Madame de Feuillide will kill me.’

  ‘Deal,’ Charles replied.

  Millie put the glass to her lips once more and finished the rest in one large gulp. ‘Time to find some interesting people to have fun with and, while we are at it, see if we can find some more of this magnificent champagne,’ she announced as she straightened her spine.

  With their arms locked together, sister and brother headed back into the ballroom and Millie’s coat and shoes stayed safely hanging in the cloakroom.

/>   The day after the ball, Millie wrote to Lucy and reluctantly ended their friendship.

  In time her heart would mend, but she couldn’t risk encountering Alex and his new bride when visiting at Strathmore House. The price of preserving her pride would unfortunately be her friendship with Alex’s sister.

  ‘I have not seen an engagement notice in the Gazette,’ Violet noted, as she and Millie went about their daily social planning the following week.

  ‘It is odd, the whole business. All I have heard is a rumour that Lord Langham’s daughter received a love letter from Lord Brooke, but no one else seems to be able to shed any further light on the situation,’ Violet added.

  Millie continued to thumb through the latest copy of La Belle Assemblée, taking careful note of the newest hairstyles. She had considered cutting her hair short, but when she mentioned the change of hairstyle to her mother, Violet’s eyes had grown wide with horror.

  ‘Where on earth did you get such as foolish notion from, my dear? Short hair is not at all suitable for a young, innocent miss such as you,’ her mother explained. ‘Unless you have had a very public affair with someone fascinating and need to make a dramatic statement, the whole thing would be lost on society. You would just look silly.’

  ‘Maybe he is waiting to make things more public when he returns to London,’ Millie replied, trying to shake off the feelings of dread and guilt which were currently her constant companions.

  Her mother shook her head. ‘That’s what I don’t understand.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Millie replied.

  Violet leaned over Millie’s shoulder and pointed to a gown with white ruffles and a high neckline. ‘That’s sweet,’ she said. Millie closed the book and glared at her mother. ‘What don’t you understand?’

  ‘Why the Radley family are still in Scotland, that’s what. If Lord Brooke is getting married, then why did he write to that poor girl and then remain in Scotland? It makes absolutely no sense. By the way, have you written to Lucy again? Now that you two have made amends, if anyone has any idea as to what is going on with her brother, I would think she would be the best source of information. I am surprised she didn’t mention it in the letter she wrote to you. Then again she may not be in her brother’s confidence; men tend to be rather secretive creatures when it comes to their personal affairs.’

  Millie puffed out her cheeks, thinking it might be time to tell her mother something of the truth. It was hard enough to mask the pain of a broken heart, but at least she could share the sadness she felt over the loss of Lucy’s friendship.

  ‘I have written to Lucy again, but I don’t expect a reply. In light of Lord Brooke’s impending nuptials, I have decided it would be prudent to end any association with the Radley family,’ she replied.

  She heard Violet sigh. An arm came around her waist and she was pulled in close. A gentle kiss was planted warmly on her cheek. ‘Do you feel better, now that you have finally told me? I thought you might be nursing a little heartache, darling. You seemed very much out of sorts the day Lucy and her family left town. I thought at first it might have been disappointment at Lucy’s departure, but it didn’t take long for me to suspect there was more to it than that.’

  Millie smiled and gave her mother a kiss in return.

  ‘Thank you,’ Millie said.

  Violet smiled. ‘Not to worry, my love, your special someone is out there, and I would not be surprised if you met him very soon. Over the next few months town is going to be full of charming young men.’

  There was a knock on the sitting room door, and as the two women looked up, they saw Mr Ashton enter the room with a puzzled look on his face.

  ‘You will never guess who I just had a visit from.’

  Chapter 16

  Alex’s back ached and he shifted uncomfortably on the leather bench. He would never again complain about the discomfort of travelling in the Strathmore family coach.

  By the time he and David had reached Darlington he was ready to bribe the driver and take over the reins of the London-bound mail coach himself. He would give anything to get out of the cramped public coach and into the fresh air. He would swear on a holy bible that the man seated opposite him had decided that sniffing was an art form. He had been studiously practising it for at least the last thirty miles.

  When the coach did stop to change horses and exchange mail, it was only for a few minutes. There was just time for a quick visit to the rear yard, followed by the hurried purchase of some provisions, before they got back into the cramped coach and ready for the next forty miles of road.

  ‘We are making good time,’ David noted, as he handed Alex a slice of buttered fresh bread. ‘This would normally have taken us two days.’

  Alex nodded. They had made excellent time in the day and a half since leaving Edinburgh. He looked out the window at the countryside as it rolled past, grateful that the Great North Road was clear of snow. He could hardly believe his father had not stopped him from going back to London.

  They had been in Scotland for just over two weeks, but Alex knew if he remained at the castle any longer he would go mad.

  During that time, Lucy had received the letter of apology from Millie and penned her own letter of reconciliation. Within days of having sent his own letter to Millie, Alex had taken to pacing back and forth across the bailey and down to the castle gatehouse, waiting expectantly for the morning cart that brought supplies up from the village. But each morning he returned to the keep empty-handed and disappointed.

  By Alex’s reckoning, he should be an almost-engaged man, but his intended fiancée had not deemed it necessary to pen him a reply. There had been more than ample time for Millie to respond to his heartfelt declaration, and her silence began to concern him.

  Then one morning, Lucy received her second letter from Millie. She came into the breakfast room with a look of worry on her face, the letter clutched tightly in her hand.

  ‘Alex, I need to speak with you,’ she said. The hairs on the back of Alex’s neck stood up when he saw the pained look on her face.

  ‘This doesn’t look good,’ David muttered under his breath, and put his cup of coffee down.

  ‘I don’t know what has happened, but Millie has politely but firmly ended our friendship.’ She walked over to David and handed him the letter. His brow furrowed as he read it and a sense of dread and foreboding gripped Alex as he watched.

  Something had gone terribly wrong in London.

  ‘She says that due to recent developments it is no longer possible for her to visit at Strathmore House, as she would not be comfortable knowing that you may also be in attendance,’ David said.

  As Lucy took the letter back from David, she looked sadly at Alex. ‘I knew there was more to that evening at your house than you were prepared to admit; you were far too quick to protest your innocence. But that aside, it would appear that Millie is not in love with you after all and has decided you pose too great a risk to her reputation to be seen in your company. I’m sorry, Alex, but it doesn’t look like you are going to get your happily ever after.’

  She folded the letter, and gave a quick glance at the food on the table. David pulled out a chair and offered her a seat, but she shook her head. ‘I don’t really feel like breakfast this morning. I might just take a cup of coffee and go for a stroll on the ramparts. The fresh air might help to clear my thoughts.’

  David poured his sister a cup of coffee and showed her to the door, closing it after she had left. Alex meanwhile remained rooted to the spot, stunned by Lucy’s revelation. When David returned to the table he came and sat by Alex’s side.

  ‘There was more in the letter, and you are not going to like it. After ending things with Lucy, Millie went on to say that she is going to marry the first man who offers to take her back to India.’

  Alex shot to his feet. ‘I need to leave,’ he said.

  ‘Father will not agree to you going, you know he won’t.’

  Alex nodded. ‘I know, but I have to see Mil
lie. If father won’t agree to me leaving then I shall have to find my own way back to London. Let me try and talk to him as soon as he returns from the village. In the meantime, I will check my top drawer and see how much money I have. I might need to buy a coach ticket.’

  He picked up a fresh plate from the table and upon reaching the sideboard, started piling it high with food. No matter the outcome of his discussions with his father, he could not be sure when he would next enjoy a hot meal. He returned to the table and started to eat, only looking up when David placed a tray containing a whole baked salmon on the table in front of him.

  ‘You are going to need your strength to face him and the long cold road back to London,’ David said, teasing some pink meat from the fish and placing it onto Alex’s already overladen plate.

  The discussion between the Duke of Strathmore and his son went just as Alex had expected. As soon as his father had returned to the castle, Alex sought him out and demanded he be allowed to leave. A furious row had ensued, at the end of which Alex had packed a bag, bidden his mother and sisters farewell and started walking for Edinburgh.

  Three hours later, his father sent a carriage. The Duke of Strathmore would not allow his son and heir to freeze to death just to prove a point.

  As the carriage pulled up on the roadside, David leapt down and hailed Alex. ‘Had enough?’ he called out. Alex picked up a lump of snow from the road and threw it at him. ‘About bloody time; did he expect me to walk the whole way?’ Alex replied.

  David dodged the snowball and made a rude sign with his hand. ‘You did well getting this far, I’m impressed. I think Father expected you to hole up in the tavern for a few hours and sulk before coming back to the castle. He waited over an hour before he sent someone to look for you. The rest of the delay was my fault. I decided to take my time packing a bag when he asked me to go after you.’

  Alex shook his head.

  ‘I’m not going back to the castle; I’m going to London.’