A Dash of Scandal(99)

“No, Aunt Beatrice. That is not necessary.”

“Of course it is.”

“I won’t hear of it. I haven’t had time to work everything out but—”

A loud knock on the front door silenced Millicent but caused Hamlet to run to the front of the house barking.

“Good heavens, I don’t know who that is, but we’re not accepting calls right now. Oh, dear. I should have known you were too young and innocent to handle the London blades, especially Lord Dunraven. It’s all my fault.”

“Aunt Beatrice, please don’t be upset for me. I’m not.”

When Phillips walked into the room, Millicent walked over to the window and waited for him to present the card of the caller to her aunt. She had to find the words to make her aunt realize she would not be forced into a marriage, not even to the man she loved.

But instead of walking over to her aunt, Phillips walked over to Millicent, and said, “I’m sorry, miss. Lord Dunraven says he hasn’t a card with him, but he must speak with you immediately.”

Millicent’s legs went weak. Her breath caught.

Chandler had come.

After she’d rejected him, refused to see him, he’d come. Her heart lifted and swelled in her chest. But no, she couldn’t see him. She wouldn’t force him to marry her.

“Send him in,” Beatrice declared.

“No. Wait, Aunt Beatrice. I don’t want to see him.”

“Well, I do.”

“I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Phillips, tell him that I’m unavailable.”

Not waiting to be announced, Chandler strolled through the doorway into the parlor with his hat and gloves in his hand. He looked so confident, so dashing, Millicent’s heart skipped in her chest.

“Lady Beatrice.” He bowed and kissed her hand. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said tightly. “I do believe you are just the person I wanted to see.”

Millicent remained by the window, unable to make her watery legs move closer to Chandler. She was elated, thankful he’d come to see her, and she wanted nothing more than to ran into his arms, but she had to remain firm in her decision not to force him to marry her.

Chandler turned to her. “Miss Blair.”

“Lord Dunraven.”

“I apologize for the intrusion, but I have a special reason for calling upon you this evening.”

“I should think so,” Aunt Beatrice said.

Millicent took a step toward him. “Don’t speak further, Chandler. I meant what I said to you the other night. We have nothing left to say to each other. I think it would be best if you left.”

His eyes remained solidly on her face. “And I meant what I said to you, Millicent. We have many things to discuss, but I must take care of first things first. I’ve brought someone with me who wants to see you.”

“Really, Lord Dunraven, you presume too much to come without making arrangements and to bring a guest,” Lady Beatrice said. “This is beyond the pale.”

“Yes,” Millicent added her voice to her aunt’s reprimand. “I’m afraid this isn’t a good time to receive anyone.”

A smile stretched across his face and lit his eyes as if sunshine was sparkling in them. “I think this is one caller you will not wish to turn away.”

He strode over to the doorway and reached out his hand.

Millicent’s mother walked into the room.





Twenty-one




“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,” and so is London comforted that another splendid Season is drawing to a close.

—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column

Millicent couldn’t believe her eyes. “Mama,” she whispered.

Aunt Beatrice gasped. “Dorothy?”

Hamlet barked.

“Yes, it’s me,” Dorothy exclaimed with a beautiful smile on her face. “In London for the first time in well over twenty years.”

Her mother seemed to float into the room on Chandler’s arm. She wore a stylish carriage dress and matching rushed hat that was the color of dark plum. She looked down at Hamlet, who had jumped up in Beatrice’s lap and continued to bark. “Oh, my, you are a protective little doggie, aren’t you?”

Chandler stepped away from her ladyship, who looked at Millicent with a questioning expression. “Do I get a hug from my daughter or just silence?”