Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance (21 page)

Alex took the long way home. After the disastrous meeting with Millie’s father, he badly needed to walk off his anger.

The Radley brothers had arrived back in London early the previous day and after catching up on some needed sleep, they set about re-establishing themselves. A bored Phillips had been delighted to see David and Alex on the doorstep, travel bags in hand, and had spent the following morning making sure both their wardrobes were up to the mark.

‘Unfortunately, none of the other staff will be available for a few days,’ Phillips noted. ‘But I am sure that between Mrs Phillips and myself we shall all manage.’

David screwed up his face in disgust, while Alex shrugged his shoulders. He had more important matters to consider.

The following afternoon, once Alex had managed to get some sleep and had seen to a few urgent errands, he called in at Millie’s house to see Mr Ashton. The reception he received from Millie’s father was not at all what he had expected.

James Ashton had been polite but not overly friendly when he greeted Alex at his study door. He had shown Alex to a green leather club chair and then taken a seat in the matching chair opposite. Their discussion was brief and James’s response to Alex’s request to court Millie was curt, to say the least.

Now as he headed home, Alex focused his gaze on the pavement as he walked, hoping that it was just lack of sleep to blame for the surreal day he was having. It occurred to him that perhaps he had not heard Mr Ashton correctly when he had mentioned the Earl of Langham, but the fact that Millie’s father had then swiftly shown him the door left him in no doubt as to how unwelcome he was at the Ashton house.

Alex stopped in the middle of the street and looked back the way he had come. What had Millie’s father said? ‘I don’t think the Earl of Langham or his daughter would think too highly of your suggestion, young man,’ Alex muttered, recalling James Ashton’s words. What was that supposed to mean?

He continued past Grosvenor Square and into Bird Street, finally arriving back at the house a little over an hour after he had left. The moment he stepped inside the front door, he was greeted by David, who wore a smile of great expectation.

‘Well, how did it go?’ his brother asked, attempting to give him a hearty congratulatory pat on the back. Alex stepped out of David’s reach and held up a hand. ‘Dreadful. He didn’t exactly give me a welcome-to-the-family speech. In fact he didn’t even offer me a cup of tea. He said no and then asked me to leave.’ Alex pulled off his coat and after roughly tossing it onto the coat stand, stood shaking his head in disbelief.

‘I have never been thrown out of a private home before,’ he said, his voice edged with anger.

‘Not a good time for a first. So what happened? What did you do wrong?’ David replied.

Alex screwed up his face. He had no idea why things had gone so awry. He sighed. ‘It’s got me completely at a loss. The only thing I am certain of at this point is that if I don’t get a cup of hot tea in the next five minutes, I am going to expire from thirst.’

‘You go upstairs, I shall find Phillips and get him to bring us up a tray to the main sitting room. I will see you in a few minutes,’ David said, patting Alex on the back.

Alex nodded in agreement and went up to his room. Alone in his bedroom, he stood staring at his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. He rubbed his temple and made himself a silent promise to stop scowling. ‘When did I lose my charm?’ he asked the mirror. He heard a knock on his bedroom door as David passed by. He gave his reflection one last look and shook his head.

In the sitting room, with a cup of tea in his hand, David tried to help him make sense of the situation. ‘So you asked to see Millie, but Mr Ashton said no. Then you asked to court her, but he also said no, and then he said something about the Earl of Langham before throwing you out? Do I have it right?’ David asked.

Alex nodded. ‘That’s about the sum of it. I was only in his study for all of, perhaps, five minutes. I consider myself fortunate that he offered me a seat.’

David drummed his fingers on the leather chair. ‘So, if we add the strange letter Lucy received to your not-so-welcoming reception at the Ashtons’, we can conclude that something is seriously amiss.’

Alex rubbed his eyes. ‘And if that was not strange enough, I passed Viscount Lewis on the way back here and he offered me his congratulations.’

David raised his eyebrows. ‘What for?’

Alex shook his head. ‘I don’t know, but the more I think about it, the only way we are going to get any answers is by getting out and talking to people. The season has kicked off so there must be more balls and parties starting to happen. With any luck I will be able to run Millie to ground at one of them and get an answer from her. Otherwise we are just guessing.’ He held up a finger. ‘I have an idea. I’ll be back in a moment.’

He put down his cup and headed downstairs and into the front hall. On the small table, Phillips had left a pile of letters and invitations. Alex picked them up and brought them back upstairs. After dumping them in the middle of the sitting room coffee table, he and David set about opening them all.

‘Don’t worry about any functions that have already taken place, just burn those. We only need concern ourselves with parties happening this week,’ Alex instructed, as he tore open a large, heavy letter and handed it to David.

He watched as David’s eyes quickly scanned the paper, then felt his heart leap as his brother’s mouth opened and out came a loud. ‘Yes! Oh well done Alex, you illiterate genius.’

‘What is it?’ he asked, ignoring the backhanded compliment.

‘The East India Company Annual Reception. James Ashton is quite senior within the company, so there is no way he would miss something like this, especially when he has been away for all these years.’

He read a little further down the invitation and smiled. ‘And a special presentation will be made to Mr James Ashton in celebration of his outstanding service to the company and his appointment as a principal. Brilliant, now we know the whole family will be there.’

‘So when is it?’ Alex replied.

David gave a knowing smile as he shook his head, but said nothing. Alex leaned over and made an unsuccessful grab for the letter. David laughed. ‘Relax, brother dear, the party is tonight. You have all afternoon to get yourself ready.’

Alex closed his eyes and sighed with relief. He would only have to wait a few more hours before he could speak to Millie. He was certain that by the end of the evening, everything would be sorted and any misunderstanding between them cleared away.

Finishing his cup of tea, he went back to his room, where he lay down on his bed. The soft, burgundy-coloured coverlet was a welcome comfort for his tortured mind, but within minutes, the confidence he had felt when speaking to David began to ebb away, and the first signs of doubt slowly crept in.

What if Millie would not speak to him? No, he was sure she was not the sort to go in for the silent treatment. In fact, if anything was certain in this world, it was that Millie Ashton would die having the last word. He rolled over onto his side and tucked a pillow under his head.

‘I know one thing I need and that is sleep,’ he muttered, as he closed his eyes. ‘I might just take a small nap; at least I will look a little less haggard when she sets eyes on me.’

As sleep overcame him, Alex descended into a strange dream, where he found himself married to an angry woman who looked just like the Earl of Langham.

Millie sat quietly in the family carriage for the ride to East India House. She nursed a quiet, self-satisfied smile, knowing that the deep-blue silk evening gown she wore matched her eyes perfectly. As soon as she had seen the fabric at Madame de Feuillide’s salon, she knew she had to have it.

Any argument Millie might have anticipated from her mother soon evaporated when Millie held the sample of blue silk up to her face. ‘Yes,’ Violet had said, without hesitation.

Under her cloak, against her heated skin, lay a stunning sapphire necklace. Every so often Millie reached up and touched her throat, just to be sure it was still there. Aunt Beatrice had offered to loan her the family heirloom the moment she saw Millie’s new gown. Mr Ashton had agreed to his daughter wearing it on the stipulation that she not leave the main reception room at East India House without being accompanied by one of the family.

‘I don’t have to tell you how priceless that necklace is, Millie,’ her father had explained, the afternoon he brought it back from Ashton House. ‘If anything happened to it, your uncle would never speak to me again. It was one of the few items we agreed not to sell when we discovered how much of the family fortune your grandfather had lost.’

‘Yes, Papa. I promise to guard it with my life,’ she’d replied, holding the black velvet box in which the necklace lay.

A chill of excitement swept over her as she stepped out of the family carriage and into the glittering reception area. This was a special night for her father and she would do everything she could to make it a success for him. She had heard so much about East India House growing up that it was a little surreal to finally stand within its hallowed walls.

On every wall of the room hung huge paintings showing the countries and trade routes that The East India Company controlled. There was also a series of six large canvases, each one depicting a location in the world that was a source of the company’s wealth. She recognised a picture of Calcutta and smiled.

Closer to the doorway that lead to the main reception room she saw a large map of India, with Calcutta marked out in the top right-hand corner. Gold silk tapestries bordered both sides of the painting of India, edged with tassels of pure gold and silver thread; they were priceless. A lump formed in her throat and she blinked away a tear. East India House was a small piece of home set right in the heart of London.

Entering the main reception room, Charles took a glass of champagne from a footman and handed it to her. She gave him a smile. ‘Thank you, Charles. This shall be the first of only two champagnes I shall have for the evening.’

Her brother raised an eyebrow.

‘Why?’ he asked.

She looked past him, and into the elegant crowd. ‘Because, Charles dearest, I intend to be sophisticated and sober this evening; I know how much this means to Papa,’ she replied, taking a sip of the fine bubbles.

Charles stepped in close and whispered in her ear. ‘And here I was thinking it was because father would skin you alive if you lost that necklace.’

Millie gave him a serene nod of her head.

‘That too.’

It was close to nine o’clock by the time Alex and David arrived. Alex had slept well into the evening, and it had taken all of Phillips’ immense skills as a valet to get him washed, shaved and dressed in just under an hour.

‘At least the bags have disappeared from under your eyes,’ David remarked, as they climbed the stairs and joined the line of guests being received by the head of the company’s London office.

‘Thank God for that,’ Alex replied, though he had a terrible feeling he would need more than his boyish good looks to get anywhere with Millie tonight. The letter Lucy had received from Millie had kept him awake for days. His greatest fear was that she had found someone else and that his hurried dash back to London had all been in vain.

Her father’s outright rejection of his request to court Millie had rattled him to the core. He had to find her. ‘I will take the left side of the room, you take the right. The sooner I find her and speak to her, the better things will be,’ Alex said. He gave David a wave and began to work his way through the crowd.

Half an hour later and he was still searching. His progress was hampered by the sheer number of guests who wished him to pass their regards onto his father. At one point a slow panic began to creep into his mind: what if Millie was not at the reception? A quick check with the head footman confirmed that the Ashton family had arrived around eight o’clock and were somewhere within the main reception hall.

‘Where are you?’ he muttered, as he turned and headed towards a group of guests gathered near a large window.

Lord Gilbert was wickedly funny. He was also extremely naughty. The third son of the Duke of Lamberton had a reputation which stretched nearly all the way back to Scotland.

An unashamed rake, he was a cautionary tale for mothers to tell their unmarried daughters. Millie thought he was brilliant. And the fact that she was standing in a group listening to Lord Gilbert’s latest exploits at the racetrack bore testament to how popular Millie had become during the preceding weeks.

The Millie of old would not have been able to come within ten feet of him, but with her new figure and confidence, she had gained entrance to his select group of friends.

‘Well, of course the jockey went off and had two of the biggest pies he could find. The owner couldn’t for the life of him understand why his steed ran last; and I swear it took all my strength to keep a straight face as I walked over to the bookmaker to collect my winnings,’ Lord Gilbert announced to the enthralled gathering, which promptly fell about laughing.

A round of applause followed his story, at which Lord Gilbert gave an elegant bow. As Millie wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, she gave Charles a grin. Finally, she had found a man in London who had a sense of humour she could appreciate. ‘He is rather good at holding a crowd,’ she said.

Her brother smiled and shook his head. ‘Don’t get too attached to our outrageous friend, Millie. If Mama or Papa start heading in this direction, you and I will have to make a quick exit.’

‘I know, I know. I think he was the second person I was warned about when we stepped off the boat,’ she replied. ‘But it doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun in his company at a public gathering.’

‘True, but —’ Charles stopped mid-sentence. Something over Millie’s right shoulder had caught his eye.

As she turned to see what it was, her brother caught her arm and pulled her back. ‘Careful, you nearly made me spill my champagne,’ she snapped, hurriedly checking her gown to ensure nothing had spoiled the fabric. Satisfied that her appearance was in order, she looked up at him and saw a look of deep concern on his face.