Page 42 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
‘Brother!’ Godric Drake, Baron de Vane, strode forward, his baroness floating along beside him in a gown matching her blue eyes and a white, fur-lined coat contrasting her black heart. ‘May we offer you our most heartfelt solicitations on this most wonderful event!’ His brother reached out a hand in greeting. Drake did not move. After an awkward pause, his brother dropped his hand.
‘Come, Beaufort.’ Nora’s voice was soft and far too high. Drake realised he preferred a lower, huskier tone. She let go of her husband’s arm, walked up to Drake, and put a gloved hand on his arm. ‘We are family and have missed you. I was thrilled to receive your invitation.’
Millicent growled again. The damnable flutter was back.
Nora’s sweet scent of peonies clashed with Millicent’s much more appealing citrus and sun-warmed cotton. But while seeing Nora in the flesh did not reignite his former feelings, it did remind Drake of all the reasons distance was key with his new bride. Allowing himself to become vulnerable would only end in destruction.
Drake moved away from both women. Nora’s eyes widened. Her mouth crimped at the corners. She didn’t miss his rejection of her. Neither did Millicent. Her dark eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn’t interpret.
Stepping back, Nora took her husband’s arm once more, though her gaze never left Drake’s face.
‘Lord and Lady de Vane, allow me to introduce my bride-to-be, Miss Millicent Whittenburg.’ Drake held his hand out to Millicent, though now he was too far away to touch her. His fingers itched and his heart kicked hard in his chest. Drake ignored the stupid organ. ‘Her stepmother organised this entire week. Including the guest list.’
Godric threw his head back and laughed, his jowls quivering with mirth. ‘Lord and Lady de Vane. Beaufort, please. We need not be so formal. As Nora said, we are family.’
Drake clenched his jaw. There was a time he would have happily planted his fist into his brother’s face and derived immense pleasure from hearing his nose crack like a walnut. But now he lacked the energy to fuel his ire. It all seemed so patently petty.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord and Lady de Vane.’ Millicent’s husky voice vibrated with unspoken hostility. When Godric stepped forward, taking Millicent’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles, Drake’s jealousy spiked, inconveniently distracting him from remaining aloof. He took a jolting step forward, reclaiming Millicent’s hand from his brother and tucking it in the crook of his elbow.
Jesus! I am the world’s biggest fool.
‘I’m sure you would like to refresh yourselves before meeting the rest of our guests.’ Millicent emphasised ‘our’, making her own subtle statement. She and Drake were a unit, and based on the glare she sent to Nora, she wanted the woman to be very clear on that point.
Drake forced his twitching lips to remain in a firm line. He refused to be charmed by his future wife.
Their fraught conversation was interrupted by another carriage crunching down the alder-lined drive.
‘Bugger,’ Millicent whispered.
Drake turned to his betrothed and watched her face pale as she narrowed her gaze on the approaching carriage.
Nora gasped at Millicent’s coarse language, her hand fluttering over her chest like a moth hovering over a flame.
Godric’s cheeks reddened in splotchy crimson patches. ‘I say!’
Millicent looked at each of them, straightening her shoulders. ‘Err, I meant there is a bug on her, just there.’ Millicent leaned forward and swatted at a non-existent insect on Nora’s white coat. ‘The words ran together in my alarm. Heavens, I wouldn’t want something nasty to sting you, Lady de Vane. You might swell in unsightly bumps or develop a fever if you aren’t careful.’ But quickly, her gaze returned to the approaching carriage.
‘It appears we have another guest to welcome. Lord Franklin St George, if I’m not mistaken.’ Drake watched Millicent carefully as he spoke the name.
St George was a prime suspect in Drake’s investigation. Was that why Millicent reacted so strongly to his arrival? Did she also know of his potential crimes? If she was engaged in her own investigation, was St George her focus as well?
Or did her reaction stem from something else? He knew his fiancée had a history with St George, but exactly what that history entailed was unclear. Drake didn’t gamble, but he would place money on the odds that Franklin St George was the bastard who compromised his wife-to-be.
A slow-burning rage filled him like hot tar. If St George was the man who treated her innocence so callously, his mistreatment of Millie was reason enough to kill the bastard, let alone whatever connections he might have to the sex-trafficking ring.
‘I’ve played cards with him at White’s before. Capital fellow. How do you know him?’ Godric asked.
‘He’s an old friend of Millicent’s, isn’t he, my love?’ He shouldn’t have used the term of endearment. It came out without thought. But he was too shallow not to enjoy Nora’s sharp inhalation or Millicent’s gaze completely refocusing from the carriage to Drake’s face. With two words, he had accomplished several goals.
Millicent’s lips parted. Whether her reaction was caused by ‘my love’ or referencing St George as an old friend, he could not tell.
‘I wouldn’t call him a friend, darling. More of a family acquaintance.’ Millicent drew out the syllables in ‘darling’, and Drake once more fought the urge to smile. She was sparring with him, even in the use of pet names. What an unexpected moment to find joy.
Fluttering. In his chest.
Definitely something to tell his doctor.
‘Shall we welcome him? And then we can all return to the house together.’ Nora smiled brightly. ‘Millicent, you must tell me how your maid was able to dress your hair so… casually. I wish I could be that brave in my fashion choices.’
