Page 21 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
This was not the time to discover her secrets. Drake would leave it. For now. But he would find out what Patricia had done to her stepdaughter. And the woman would pay for every injury Millicent was forced to suffer.
‘Then come and meet your staff. After which, you may get settled in your rooms.’
Drake had appointed her a lady’s maid. A new girl his housekeeper had hired. He would expect a report from the woman on exactly what pained his betrothed. ‘I expect you in my study in an hour. You have that long to prepare yourself.’ It was time to discuss the terms of their marriage. Which was problematic. As the terms Drake thought he wanted a few moments ago seemed less clear.
A marriage of convenience was the only acceptable way forward for Drake. They would be joined in name only. He had no interest in producing an heir. His brother would inherit the title upon Drake’s death. But as it was the one thing Drake’s ex-fiancée – now sister-in-law – wanted most, Drake intended to live a long, long time. With any luck, his brother and sister-in-law would die first, and the bloody title could go to a distant cousin.
Millicent would make no demands on his time. In return, he would allow her to live as she pleased. There would be a handful of events requiring her presence but their individual lives need not change. She would live separately from him. He had several properties from which to choose. They could pursue their individual interests, and this alarming attraction would dissipate.
I will not be swept into madness.
This was a simple business arrangement allowing him more freedom in his investigations for the prime minister. Nothing more. He would explain the boundaries of their relationship to Millicent with cold efficiency. An emotion she should learn to expect from him, as it was all he would give.
So why did the thought of a convenient marriage feel so suddenly and unaccountablyinconvenient?
Millie wanted a bath. But after meeting the staff – including a mischievous lad of nine who introduced himself as Master Bright and winked at her before disappearing back to the kitchens – investigating her expansive suite of rooms, and organising the unpacking of her trunks, Millie barely had time to wash her face and change her clothes before her meeting with Major General Drake.
Her husband-to-be might not rank as highly as her father and stepmother in the beau monde, but based on his estate, his bank account seemed far healthier than Lord Whittenburg’s quickly diminishing finances.
It doesn’t help that Patricia spends money like a wildfire blazing through dry wood.
Before Patricia met her father, Lord Whittenburg let Millie join him in his meetings with his man of business. It was unheard of for a woman to take any interest in running an estate, but Millie was good with numbers, and her father had grown to depend on her frugal habits. Then Patricia joined their family, and their finances plummeted as drastically as Patricia’s necklines.
My father’s affairs don’t concern me now.
But she still worried for him, for all the good it did. That was her past. It was time to start focusing on her future. For now, that meant getting ready for her meeting with Drake.
Her lady’s maid, Penny, was a sturdy young thing. Millicent would guess her to be in her mid-twenties, though she carried herself with the confidence of a much older woman. Her keen gaze took in the bandages poking out of Millie’s corset as shehelped her to change from her traveling clothes into a deep-green day dress with black, lace trimming.
‘I don’t wish to overstep, miss, but I have a poultice for… injuries. If you like, I can bring it to you. We can apply it before bed.’ Penny kept her gaze on her hands as she fastened the tiny, obsidian buttons along the back of Millie’s dress. ‘We wouldn’t want infection to take root. I was always getting into scrapes as a child. My mother learned the best potions to keep a body healthy. She still sends me this and that when she can, so I have plenty. It would be no trouble.’
Millie bit her lip against a sudden need to burst into tears at her maid’s small act of kindness. She hadn’t cried once since the fated kiss. She didn’t dare show such weakness. But Penny’s no-nonsense tone, her offer of comfort without pity, nearly burst the damn. Digging her nails into her palm, she focused on that pain instead of the much larger ache in her soul. She would not turn into a watering pot. Not now. Maybe later.
What would the duchess think of Millie if she dissolved into a puddle on the floor? Philippa believed Millie to be strong and resilient. And so, she would pretend to be exactly that until her moment of weakness passed. She would get through this week, marry the earl, and get back to training. There was important work to be done. Millie was determined to make something useful of her life by stopping people even more twisted than her stepmother. Murderers who were exploiting innocent girls. Those young women needed courageous, powerful champions to keep them safe. That is exactly what Millie would become.
She cleared her throat of any pesky emotions. ‘A very thoughtful offer, Penny. Please do bring it to me this evening. Thank you.’
Penny looked up from her task and smiled at Millie in the mirror. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through a large window to Millie’s left.
‘I’m glad Major General Drake chose you to assist me, Penny. I think we shall get along famously.’
Penny ducked her head as a mahogany strand of hair escaped her cap. ‘Thank you, miss.’
‘These rooms really are quite splendid.’ Millie spoke brightly, attempting to dispel the sudden awkwardness as she looked around at her new home. How odd to think she lived here now. Soon to be the wife of a man she barely knew. A contradictory, mysterious, confusing man.
Her bedroom was adorned in shades of lavender and sage. Windows looked onto the back of the property where manicured lawns dissolved into a wild, dark wood. The dressing room had three large windows, letting in plenty of light for the spacious closets. Her sitting room was appointed with a fireplace, delicately carved white furniture, and a writing desk complete with parchment, quills, ink, and sand. A huge, oak-carved bed with a million pillows and creamy white bed linens took centre place in Millie’s bedroom. She could see the untamed forest from her bedside window.
Major General Drake might be a stranger, but he certainly went to some trouble ensuring a comfortable suite for her. It was more than she expected. More than she deserved after trapping him into a marriage neither of them wanted.
If only he wasn’t so damnably honourable. Perhaps she could still convince him to break the engagement. She nodded her head. That was the best path forward. Surely, he could see the wisdom in such a course.
The gossips may have something to say about the major general begging off after ruining Millie, but his reputation would be less damaged than her own. She could happily bear the weight of society’s censure if it granted her freedom. She was sure Drake would agree. Millie only needed to convince him.
‘I believe I am ready for my meeting, Penny. If you wouldn’t mind directing me to Major General Drake’s study.’
Penny dipped in a quick curtsy. ‘Of course, miss.’
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