A Dash of Scandal(70)

Millicent’s breath caught in her throat. Did he mean that? When he said things like that, she almost could believe he meant every word.

“You know all the things to say to make a lady lose her head over you, don’t you?”

Chandler lifted his head. She wondered if he was trying to look through the darkness into her eyes and read her innermost thoughts. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She had to take advantage now while she had him at a weak moment.

“I want to know what pleases you.”

“You know how to kiss and tease and make me desire you as I never have any other man. You are a rake. It is what you do, what you are good at and I can’t fight you.”

“Millicent, you misunderstood me.”

“No. I am not ashamed of wanting your touch, or your kisses. I have longed to feel about a man the way I feel about you, but I will not fall victim to believing you care about me, Chandler. Don’t try to make me believe you care.”

“All right.” He stepped away from her. “I guess it is best we know where we stand.”

Millicent took a deep breath, wondering where she’d found such courage. It would have been so easy to have believed him. Thank God she hadn’t.

“Will you agree that I can call on you tomorrow and take you for a ride in Hyde Park?”

“Why do you insist on pressing me on this matter?”

“I tried to come to a conclusion about that very thing tonight, and I have no answer other than I want to be with you.”

“If I agree to see you openly, will you promise not to see me in secret again?”

“No.”

He drove her to madness! “You are a mystery, Chandler. Why see me in open and secret?”

“How can I kiss you the way I want to, the way you want me to, if I don’t see you in secret?”

“That is the problem. I fear I am only a mad dash away from scandal.”

“And so you are. I’ll call on you at half past three today. Be ready.”

With those parting words he slipped away into the misty darkness.

***

Chandler’s lashes fluttered against the bright sunshine of midday. He squinted, his eyes not wanting to adjust to the daylight. Had he been dreaming about Millicent or had she really been in his arms?

They were in a room lit only by candlelight. She wore a low-cut gown of pure white gossamer. Her skin glowed like the finest alabaster and felt as soft as the most expensive silk the Orient spun. She tasted of honey. He was kissing her. Madly. Until the harsh light of reality intruded.

No, it had been only a dream. He had left her at Lady Beatrice’s door.

He kept his eyes closed and rolled over. The sheets were cool to his back. The pillow fit snugly under his head. He didn’t want to wake from the sweet dream, but had no choice. Even though he hadn’t seen his valet, Chandler knew the servant was moving about the room, quietly opening the draperies, laying out his razor, pouring warm water into the washbowl.

Chandler’s lashes fluttered again.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Chandler remained quiet. He wasn’t ready to move or speak. His lower body wasn’t prepared to admit that Millicent was not in the bed with him. After a moment or two, reluctantly, he raised his head and looked around. Winston stood at the one window where the draperies were still closed.

“That’s quite enough light, Winston,” he managed to say and laid his head back down.

“Very well, sir.” He left the draperies alone and walked over to the wardrobe. “Lord Dugdale is below stairs wanting to speak to you.”

That woke Chandler. He sat up in the bed, “Andrew? At this time of day? That’s odd. Did he happen to say what he wanted?”

“No, sir. Only that it was urgent, and he was prepared to wait until you were available to see him.”

Something had to be wrong for his friend to pay a call midday. Millicent crossed his mind. He wondered if anyone had seen him with her last night at Lady Beatrice’s and had written about it? He grunted a laugh. No, if anyone wrote about them the information would have come from her and he felt sure she wouldn’t report on them again. So what was wrong?

“Tell him I’ll be down as soon as I dress.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take him some tea and scones. That should occupy him until I get down.”

As soon as Winston closed the door behind him, Chandler rose. He washed his face and shaved with the warm water the valet left for him and wet his hair before combing it away from his face.