by Wendy Vella
“I have never loved,” she lied.
“What, no one?”
“Family, of course, but no one else.” Milly was relieved when he did not question her further about family. Lying had been something she’d had to do often after leaving London, but she loathed it, and tried where possible to avoid it now.
“I think a hero should be able to solve any problem that his beloved presents him with.”
“That’s very broad, don’t you think, my lord? I mean, that is surely setting oneself up to fail, as there can be many problems that he couldn’t fix.”
“But isn’t that the point.” He leaned forward as he spoke and his breath brushed her ear, making her shiver. “A hero should be able to unknot a shoe ribbon and hold together severed flesh for his beloved should it be required. Of course, one would hope for his sake that the latter never occurs.”
Her laugh changed to a yawn.
“Have you been walking long, Milly?”
“A while,” she conceded. In fact, it had been closer to three hours than two, and her feet had begun to ache from the cold.
“May I suggest you wait until morning, or at least some form of transportation next time.”
“I like to walk at night.”
“Many people do, but not in such unpleasant conditions.”
Milly did not reply.
“Your fiancé had arrived to whisk you off to Gretna Green, but alas, you realized after one look into his squinty eyes that your love had waned, so you were forced to flee?”
She had always loved Joseph’s sense of the ridiculous. First, she’d thought him serious-minded, and then after getting to know him better, she’d realized that was the facade he showed society. In fact, there was a great deal more to this man than many people knew.
“It was his nose, my lord,” Milly said. “Overly big, you see, and with a wart on the end. When we kissed, it got in the way, and every time he spoke it rose up and down. It was most disturbing, and I realized that I could not live my life with it... of course, I mean him.” Milly sighed dramatically, and then was forced to stifle another yawn.
“Yes, I can see how off-putting that may have been. However, it seems terribly superficial of you, the path of true love and all that,” he added, waving a hand about in front of her. “Of course, I don’t believe in such a thing anymore.”
“True love?”
“Yes.”
She heard the word, delivered in a cold, flat tone. She had done this to him, and the thought was a distressing one. Joseph had once believed in love, because his parents had loved each other deeply, and he had told her that was what he wanted to share with her.
But life had played a hand in changing Milly’s views on love also. She laughed now at how foolish and naïve she had once been. How she believed love could be formed after a series of parties and balls on the arm of a handsome man. Or driving in the park at his side? The reality was far different. It was struggling to survive for many... as it had been for her. She would have been spoilt and cosseted as Joseph’s wife, but what kind of relationship would that have been for either of them? The same as many who frequented society, Milly knew. But that would no longer suit her. She was changed, in too many ways to count. There would be no happy ever after with a handsome, rich peer for her anymore.
“It is no longer something I wish for either, my lord.”
“However, I am sure that unlike me, you will find it one day, Milly,” he said quietly.
“I do not want it,” she said fiercely. “Love makes fools of sane people.”
“That had some strength behind it.”
“It was a quote, my lord.”
“Of course, how silly of me to think otherwise. Now tell me where this position in Spindle is and with which family, as I know most of them?”
Dear Lord, did he visit Spindle often? The prospect of seeing him again was an unsettling one. He did not recognize her now, but would he if he saw her a few more times. Why would he see you, Milly? He was an earl and she a nobody.
“I’m to be governess to the eldest daughter of a family in Spindle, my lord. I am tasked with helping to prepare her to enter society.”
“Which family? I know most of them.”
“It matters not.”
“Come, we are merely conversing, is it so hard to share this information with me? I’m sure we shall not see each other again. Therefore, whatever we speak of this night will not be passed on, and indeed forgotten in no time.”
“Lord and Lady Wimplestow.”
Behind her, the earl coughed.
“Are you quite well?”
“Yes, quite well. Which daughter?”
“The eldest, as I have already explained.”
He coughed again.
“My lord, are you sure you are all right?”
“I am, but let me tell you, Milly, you will have something of a task ahead of you.”
“You know the family?”
“I do.”
“But they live some distance from your home?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“I wonder at the association,” Milly lied.
“I hunt with Lord Wimplestow occasionally, and have visited his house.”
“I am quite certain I will settle in there perfectly.”
“I hope you do.” His words sounded doubtful.
The Wimplestows were the only family who would take her, given she had no reference other than the one she had written herself. The agency she had approached had suggested she contact them. She had, and had been accepted for the position as companion to Miss Wimplestow.
“That is the fourth yawn in as many minutes, Miss Higglesworth.”
“The day has been a long one, my lord.”
She would close her eyes briefly, only a few seconds to regain her strength. Now she was out of immediate danger, it appeared fatigue had caught up to her. However, she could not fall asleep in this man’s arms. She needed to keep her wits about her at all times. Imminent danger from Mr. Pestle may no longer be nipping at her heels, but that did not mean she could let her guard down, as it would be fatal if Lord Ellsworth recognized her. His anger would be fierce, and she could not blame him for that. Or perhaps he would no longer care? Was he married? Milly did not like to think of another woman having his children, and yet knew this would happen, if it had not already.
Dear Lord, I’m riding in Joseph’s arms.
Chapter Four
Joseph knew Milly was fighting to keep her eyes open, as she kept sitting upright and then slumping backward into him. What the hell was this woman’s story? She was not timid around him, as many supposed governesses would be. She was funny, and even on brief acquaintance he knew she was intelligent. That’s not to say a governess could be neither, just rarely around him. But then in the normal course of events, he would not be carrying a governess between his thighs.
She would have her hands full with the Wimplestow family. They were good people, just a little unorthodox, and their table manners made Joseph queasy. Yet, there was little doubt that Miss Wimplestow needed assistance if she was to enter society... a great deal of assistance, he thought, remembering when last they had met, she had been covered in mud after spending time with her beloved pigs in their sty.
He felt the moment Milly gave up the battle and succumbed to sleep. Her body softened against his, suddenly growing heavy as her muscles relaxed. Looking around her, he checked Mugwort was secured and in no danger of hitting the ground. Of course, a bump or two could surely only enhance such a challenged creature, but still Joseph did not like to see anyone hurting, even ugly little dogs. She was tucked securely in her mistress’s arms and in no danger of falling from them. Joseph then slipped her large bag from her wrist and pulled the ties over his shoulder, so it hung at his side.
The miles passed slowly, as he was reduced to a walk while Milly slept, not that he minded particularly. Holding a woman other than a family member while she slept in his arms when they had
shared no intimacies was something he had never thought about, or indeed experienced, and why should he? It simply wasn’t something that had cropped up in his life. However, now he had firsthand experience, and Joseph had to say it was not an unpleasant one.
His thoughts returned briefly to the woman he had once believed would be his wife. The woman he had loved desperately, and who by now, God willing, would have given him children. He’d wanted to hold her in his arms many times, but society had allowed him to do so only when they danced, or shared a brief passionate kiss when they had managed time away from prying eyes.
Four years ago, she had broken their betrothal, and he had received no word of her since. Pushing aside the anger that came with thoughts of Millicent Lawrence, he focused on the woman in his lap.
He would likely never see her again, and had to admit that had been freeing. Speaking with her, he had been unguarded, as if for this one night he was just a man, and she a woman, and there lay no barriers between them. A strange occurrence, Joseph had to admit, but again, he had to also admit to enjoying it.
Milly had her legs sideways, but had kept her body facing forward; now, however, in slumber she was seeking comfort and warmth. Very soon her cheek was resting on his chest, the brim of her large bonnet connecting with Joseph’s chin. She made a soft breathy noise as she breathed out; the sound was ridiculously sweet. Pushing the brim back slightly, he looked down at her, attempting to get his first real impression of the woman. Her glasses were pushed up on one side, so he removed those as well and tucked them into the pocket of her jacket, and it was as his eyes rested on the long sweep of her lashes that he knew who he held.
It can’t be!
Lifting his eyes to the road ahead, Joseph grappled with the knowledge that Lady Millicent Lawrence was in his arms again. She had ruthlessly broken his heart, and then fled London with her true love, or so she had led him to believe. She had left behind an aunt who loved her, a father incapable of the emotion, and the society he had once believed she had loved.
Sucking in a cold breath of air, he looked down at her once more.
He studied the sharp jut of her cheekbones, searching for the lush young woman he had wanted to marry. She was there in the soft pale skin, lovely mouth, and beneath that bonnet, her hair would be the color of polished gold.
“Where have you been?” he whispered. The anger he’d believed had left him rose to the surface, so fierce it nearly choked him. She murmured as his arms tightened, so he released her. He was not ready to face her yet.
Her actions had shaken the foundations of his life, a life that, until she had left him, had followed its expected path.
“I liked the idea of one day becoming a countess. Alas, your father is a healthy man, and shows every sign of living for many more years,” she had said to him that fateful day she disappeared with her lover.
“If only you had waited, your wish would have come true,” he whispered.
Three weeks after her desertion, his father had unexpectedly died, ripping him adrift completely. He’d pushed Millicent from his head, and concentrated on his grieving family. He’d thought her gone, never to cross his path again. It seemed fate had other ideas.
Following the small rounded tip of her nose, he came to her lips. The bow of her upper lip was parted slightly in slumber. He remembered how they felt under his. Lifting a hand, he traced his middle finger over the outline; she wrinkled one delicate brow, but didn’t wake, so he did it again. Then cursed himself for being a fool. He shouldn’t feel this profound relief at knowing she lived. She was nothing to him now. Nothing and no one, only the woman who had betrayed him with another. Joseph could never forgive her for the hell she had plunged him into.
He had ignored the niggle of doubt that had crept into his head four months ago, doubt put there by the arrival of papers on his doorstep from her father. He had told the deliverer that he would not see Lady Millicent again, nor ever wished to. But the man had insisted he take them, and so he had. Joseph remembered clearly the words written on the note he had opened. Find it in your heart to forgive my daughter. Those eight words had caused him to think of her again, and wonder if she had really not loved him after all. Now he had found her cold and alone, looking nothing like the lady who had left him, which increased the niggle tenfold.
Greyton appeared before them as Joseph walked Monty up the last rise and into the courtyard, where he eased them to a halt. He felt a tug of pleasure as he always did when he came home, but his pleasure was tarnished by the woman he held. He’d tamped down his anger to a slow simmer over the miles, but it was still there. He had many questions for her, the main one being, where was the man she had left him for? For now, he would not let her know he had guessed her identity, because if he did, he believed she would run again, and he did not yet know what he wanted to do about her, if anything. He had something to tell her, something that he should tell her now. But Joseph needed time, and only when he was ready would he impart the knowledge that sat heavy on his shoulders.
“Oh, I seem to have slept the entire journey, my lord. I-I’m terribly sorry.”
Milly roused in his arms and sat up. He steadied her as she quickly turned from him to look at the house.
“Your glasses are in your coat pocket.” Not that you need them.
She pulled them out and placed them on her nose.
“Why are we here, my lord? I-I thought we were going to the village of Stonleigh?”
“This is my home. It’s cold and late. The morning will be here soon enough to get you to the stage.”
Joseph sat quietly as she studied the front of Greyton. The grey walls had darkened with age, and rose three stories above them. It had been built hundreds of years ago by his ancestors, and had seen many changes, but still stood proud today. The sturdy stone facade could be seen for miles, and was a landmark for many. Joseph knew each corner and room intimately. He, his brothers, and his sister had run over every piece of land, and ridden to all corners of the estate. This was home, the place he had wanted Millicent to be mistress of.
“No.” Her head shook from side to side. “I-I cannot stay here.”
Swallowing back the bitter thoughts, he instead said, “Too late, we are here. Now we shall eat, and then I’m sure you would like to spend the rest of the night in a comfortable bed.” Lifting her off his thighs, Joseph placed her between his legs and then swung himself out of the saddle to the ground. Lowering her sack, he then held out his hands.
“Give me the dog, Milly.”
Taking the squirming bundle of ugliness, he lowered it to her feet, where it promptly put its nose to the ground and headed for the grass.
“Now you.” Placing his hands on Milly’s waist, Joseph refused to acknowledge the spark of awareness he felt as her hands settled on his shoulders and she allowed him to lift her down.
She is nothing to me now.
“If you will point me to the road that the stage will travel down, my lord, I-I shall be on my way.”
“Enough, Milly. You’re tired and hungry. Sleep, then I will personally take you to Spindle in the morning.” Releasing her, he then picked up her sack, took her arm, and urged her toward the steps.
“Your horse, my lord?”
“Will make its way to the stables, where my stable hand will take care of it.”
Milly stopped to watch as Monty did just that; at a trot he headed round the side of the house and disappeared.
“Please let me beg your forgiveness once more, my lord. It was rude to have slept as I did.”
“For two hours,” Joseph said. “And yes, it was, but then I would rather that than listen to chatter.”
“I-I do not chatter!”
“No, you slept,” he added, pushing aside his anger. She’d know something was wrong if he continued to speak in a cold, clipped tone.
“And I have apologized for that. But you could have woken me.”
He didn’t reply. He’d spent that time looking at her and battling his
emotions. For now he would not betray his knowledge. He needed to sleep on what he had learned. Stepping up to the front door, he rapped the knocker loudly.
“But you will wake your servants, Lord Ellsworth!”
“I have done so before, and as the house is locked, there is no other course open to me,” he said, ignoring the twinge of guilt at her words.
“B-but it is not right. They need their sleep.”
“As do I, and as I pay their wages, I’m sure they will not be too put out.”
She made a small tsking sound that suggested she was displeased, but he cared not. What he cared for at that moment, was to get away from this woman.
The door opened several long minutes later, and his butler appeared, pulling on his jacket, followed by his two dogs. Bending, Joseph scratched behind long, shaggy ears and murmured a greeting to them both.
“Good morning, Bailey. Forgive the time, and my intrusion on your sleep, but I have arrived home earlier than planned.”
“No intrusion at all, Lord Ellsworth.” His butler bowed and smothered a yawn at the same time.
“Now these, Milly, are real dogs,” he said, taking her arm. “Virgil, and Horace, are skilled at hunting.”
“You named your dogs after Roman poets?”
“I did.”
“They succeed because they think they can.”
“A governess who quotes Virgil, how interesting,” Joseph mocked, remembering Millicent’s love of the poet.
“I must be able to help those I serve.”
“How commendable.” He nearly choked on the platitude.
“I picked up a stray on my journey, Bailey,” he said to his butler. “Please prepare a tray of food and a bed for Miss Higglesworth, and perhaps some washing water. I would not want to inconvenience you with a bath at such an hour.”
“I have no need of a bed or food, my lord. The stables will do, or lead me to the servants’ quarters.”
Placing a hand on her back, he urged her through the doorway with a firm hand.
“My servants will not be rising for some time, or my stable hands. Therefore, one of the dozen empty beds here will have to suffice, Milly.”
