Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance (6 page)

Her mother released Millie and stood back giving her a smile. ‘How are you feeling this morning? I was pleased to see that you slept late. I know you thought I was fussing last night when I made you take that sleeping draught, but you certainly needed it.’

Millie shrugged her shoulders.

‘Truth be told, I am not feeling too poorly, just a little wrung out. I have had the chance to think about things this morning, and I’ve decided that last night will not happen again. From now on I will not let people upset me that way. The next time some fool grabs me by the hand and tries to drag me through a crowd, I shall bite his hand until he lets go.’

Violet raised her eyebrows and shook her head. The threat that Millie would sink her teeth into the flesh of London’s young men was perhaps taking things a little too far, but her mother understood her meaning.

Millie tactfully changed the subject. ‘Did you happen to see the flowers I received?’

Her mother gave her a knowing smile: nothing happened in the Ashton household without her mother being the first to know. The servants in their home in Calcutta had been completely at a loss to explain Violet’s ability to outwit them until they discovered she had used the long boat journey from England to learn to speak fluent Hindi.

‘They were lovely, darling, and presumably very expensive, because not only is the edging on the box pure gold, but orchids are out of season all year in England. Someone’s hothouse had an early visit from a St James Street florist. What did the card say?’

Millie gave her a wry smile. Her mother knew everything about the flowers, including what was – or was not – written on the card. In fact, Millie was certain that most of the household knew its contents long before its intended recipient had first set eyes upon it.

With Violet being the best chance she had to find out about the carriage and who had sent the flowers, she decided to humour her mother and play along.

‘Surprisingly, the card was blank; just my name was printed on the front. I would have thought if someone had made the effort to send me flowers, they would have at least put their name on the card. To tell you the truth, it is all a bit of a mystery, but I have found a clue which may help.’

Violet slowly raised her eyebrows, and a smile formed on her lips.

‘Yes?’ she replied.

‘One of our footmen got a look at the carriage that delivered the flowers and he kindly drew me a picture of the coat of arms that was emblazoned on the carriage door.’

Millie pulled the piece of paper from her pocket and waved it slowly in the air. ‘Now I just need someone to help me to identify whose coat of arms it is.’ She let out a heavy sigh and looked down at the paper. ‘I expect I shall have to wait until Papa comes home. If I am lucky he may be able to assist me.’

Violet let out a girlish squeal of delight and in an instant snatched the paper from Millie’s hand. Then she froze. Her hand went slowly to her lips.

‘Oh, I can’t believe I just did that. I spend every waking moment trying to teach you ladylike manners and then I go and behave like I have none myself. I must be the worst mother in the entire world,’ Violet said sheepishly.

Mother and daughter stood looking at one another before dissolving into fits of laughter. As the tears rolled down Millie’s face, she wagged a finger in Violet’s direction. If any of the servants had walked into the room at that moment, they would have been aghast at the sight of the two Ashton women doubled over, holding their aching sides. It took several minutes for the spontaneous silliness to calm down, after which Millie and her mother embraced once more. Millie gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

‘I am sorry Mama. I have been so selfish since we arrived, thinking of my own concerns. It was only when I saw you and Papa at Uncle Oscar’s last night that I realised how hard all those years away from home must have been for you. How much you must have missed your family and friends. I promise I shall try and make a better effort to fit in from now on. Maybe last night’s unpleasantness was a dose of karma for my selfishness.’

Violet shook her head. ‘It’s not all your fault, my dear. I know it’s been hard, and I don’t think I have helped things by being so absorbed in trying to catch up with everyone in such a short time. How about we agree to put this first week behind us and start to find our feet more slowly? You just need a little time.’

Millie smiled, grateful once more that her mother was a rational woman. How rational she would be when Millie took the boat back to India and did not return would be an entirely different matter, but that was for the future.

‘You know I don’t subscribe to all that karma business, but there may be something in what you say. First, let me have a proper look at this paper,’ Violet replied.

She examined the piece of paper Millie had obtained from the footman more closely. On it was drawn the rough outline of a shield, and within the shield was what looked like a horse with a crown above it. Under the horse was a series of three four-pointed stars.

Violet hummed knowingly. ‘Well, your karma might be up to something because if I am not mistaken, this is the coat of arms of the Duke of Strathmore. And if this was the crest on the side of the carriage that delivered those beautiful flowers, then I think someone might have decided to send you an apology.’

‘But no note, just the flowers,’ Millie replied, still perplexed. Without knowing who in the Duke’s family had sent the flowers, she didn’t know whether it was an apology from one particular person for his boorish behaviour, or an apology from another family member who was simply embarrassed on his behalf.

Why did everything in London have to be so complicated? A simple ‘Sorry I was a complete arse last night, can you please run me through with a sharp sword and I will die the painful death I deserve?’ would have been sufficient. Now, with the unsigned card, she was back trying to discover other people’s motives. She swore.

‘Millie, you are going to have to do something about your fishwife’s mouth,’ Violet said with a shake of her head.

‘Sorry.’

‘Of course, now that we know where the flowers came from, we can politely pretend we never received them,’ her mother said, screwing up the piece of paper and throwing it into the fireplace. Violet tucked a wayward curl of her long dark hair behind her ear and examined her fingernails.

Millie felt a subtle change in the air. Violet was right. As the card had not included the name of the sender, Millie was under no obligation to pen a note of reply. Unless the person who had sent the flowers appeared on the Ashtons’ doorstep, there was nothing else for her to do. The lovely flowers would adorn her bedroom for as long as they lasted, after which she would use the glass box for displaying her favourite books and trinkets.

An apology that had not really been offered was one that did not have to be accepted. Nor did it have to be acknowledged. She knew it was a petty stance to adopt, but the memory of being utterly humiliated the previous evening still burned brightly. And since Violet knew a great deal more about the intricacies of
ton
society than Millie did, she knew she had received the best advice.

Millie headed back to her room feeling confident and relaxed, but as soon as she opened her bedroom door and saw the flowers, her thoughts turned to Lucy and, with that, her confidence evaporated.

It was simply not possible to act as if she were indifferent. Someone would eventually ask her about them and the moment they did, she would be obliged to say how delighted she had been to receive them.

‘I hope you were from anyone but Lord Brooke,’ she whispered as she breathed in the exquisite scent of the white orchids. Mr David Radley seemed a decent enough man and it would be far less complicated if the flowers were his way of apologising on behalf of the entire Radley family.

Millie spent the rest of the day quietly working on her tapestry. She had found a perfect spot in front of a window in one of the upper-level sitting rooms. The morning light allowed her to sort the various skeins into the shades of white and grey she would need as she began the painstaking task of recreating the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral in wool.

Her mother had offered to take her shopping on the second morning after the party, but she was content to remain at home. Lucy had sent a note offering her sympathies after receiving word that Millie was still suffering the effects of the long sea voyage from India. At some point Millie and Violet would have to call on the Duchess of Strathmore, but for the time being, the ladies of the Ashton household would not be making any social calls, nor receiving visitors.

Millie was still working in the sitting room later that morning when Grace entered carrying a delicate array of white rosebuds, wrapped in a sapphire-blue ribbon. Millie looked up from her tapestry frame and seeing the flowers, stopped mid-stitch and let out a sigh.

‘I don’t suppose they came with a note, did they?’ she asked. When Grace shook her head and replied that the card had been the same as the first, Millie stabbed her needle into the fabric and sat back in her chair. ‘Same form of delivery as yesterday?’

‘No, Miss; these came via a delivery boy from the florist. When he came to the rear entrance of the house, Mr Stephens asked who had sent them, but the lad said he didn’t know. He did say it was a young man who had placed the order, and it had gone on the Duke of Strathmore’s personal account.’

Grace held the flowers up to the light from the window and examined them, running her fingers over the silk ribbon.

‘Well, whoever he is, he certainly likes blue. Maybe he wants them to match the colour of your eyes, Miss. Shall I put them in a vase for you, or would you like me to leave them here so you can look at them?’ Grace said.

‘Thank you, Grace. Would you put them next to the other ones in my bedroom, please? I don’t want the whole house seeing them,’ Millie replied.

She sensed the hairs on the back of her neck moving. What had Grace said about the gentleman who was sending her flowers liking the colour of her eyes? She thought back to the events of the party and her heart sank. She had been a fool to hope it had been David Radley sending her the lovely gifts.

The obvious answer was far less palatable, as was the notion that the flowers were not meant to be an apology and hence the reason for the card being blank.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Only one of Lady Lucy’s brothers had stood and held her gaze for any length of time; only one would know that her eyes were the deepest of dark blues.

Her father had always said her eyes were the colour of a perfect sapphire because she was a true jewel of India. She had worn deep blue ribbons in her hair all throughout her childhood, believing that she was the reincarnation of an ancient Hindu princess. Millie loved the colour of her eyes. It angered her to think someone could try to use them to cause her pain.

Yesterday’s flowers were no accident, no, they were merely a way for him to get to her while she was at home. By sending her blue flowers, and then the blue ribbons, it was his sly way of saying that he had taken in all of her physical features and would, over time, show her just what he had seen and what he thought of her.

With his initial public humiliation of her now achieved, he was shifting the game into a more subtle, more personal form of attack. And since the Marquess of Brooke had taken his time to examine every inch of her ample curves, she knew he would have made a mental inventory of all her shortcomings. She wondered when the first piglet or ham hock would arrive.

Millie closed her eyes and the corners of her mouth began to crease. Letting her head fall back, she let out a long and wicked laugh. The conversation with her mother had done her a lot of good. She would accept the flowers and enjoy them, and she would proudly wear the blue ribbon in her hair. Let him spend his father’s money on sending her lavish gifts.

‘I am not sure if Mrs Knowles can put half a side of beef to good use, if he sends me one. I don’t suppose he realises that in my part of the world, cows are considered to be sacred. Stupid boy,’ she chuckled.

Since discussing her lack of ladylike manners with her mother, Millie had promised to curb her use of foul language. Now, after enjoying a good, hearty laugh at Lord Brooke’s expense, she took a deep breath and congratulated herself on her restraint. Not one foul word had passed her lips.

‘Thank you, Lord Brooke, the flowers were lovely.’

She pulled the needle back out of her tapestry and calmly went back to work, pushing all thoughts of Alex Radley from her mind.

With the third morning came the third beautiful bunch of flowers and as with the two previous deliveries, the card only had Millie’s name on it.

Later that afternoon, she stood staring at the three arrangements now crowding the mantelpiece and smiled. She could not fault his taste: they were all truly exquisite. This time, the flowers were a mix of little white flowers and lavender in a blue china bowl. Running her finger around the rim, she noted the colour of the flowers.

‘You are cheating, Lord Brooke; any fool could tell you lavender is not blue, but purple. I shall have to take you to task if you are going to start changing the rules of battle,’ she observed.

There was a knock on her door and a moment later Charles appeared. Seeing the flowers, he gave her a smile. ‘So he has not given up yet?’

She smiled. ‘His father’s pockets must be bottomless. I was just thinking of how I could get him to send me jewellery. Anonymously, of course, which would mean I could only wear them at home, but I am sure I could live with that.’

‘Or take them to the pawnbrokers in Exchange Alley; I would be happy to do so for a small fee,’ Charles replied as he leaned back against the doorframe.

Millie eyed a cushion on a nearby chair and wondered if she could hit him with it from that distance. ‘What is the purpose of your visit, dearest brother? I can’t remember the last time you set foot in my bedroom. Are you just arriving home from somewhere or heading out?’

He cleared his throat. ‘It’s been three days since the welcome-home party and I think it is time I took you out for a stroll in the park. You can get some fresh air and stretch your legs. You must be going mad being cooped up here at home.’

She saw his eyes make a sly sideways glance to the clock nestled between the vases of flowers on the mantelpiece.

‘It’s nearly five o’clock and the best of society take over Hyde Park this time every day without fail. The only thing that would keep them from setting out would be a storm blowing in from the Atlantic, and since the day is fine, it’s high time the Ashton siblings joined the fray. Put on your coat, Millie, grab your gloves and I shall await you downstairs. Don’t be long, old girl,’ he said.

Charles stepped away from the door and disappeared.

Millie sighed. Why did big brothers have to be so bossy? And why did they have to be so right about what little sisters needed, for that matter?

Of course Charles was right, she had spent three pleasant days at home and now it was time to get out and face London society once more. She could not hide away in her father’s house forever.

‘Old girl? I am this side of one and twenty,’ she muttered as she rang for her maid. If she went out without allowing Grace to pull her coat out of the cupboard and fuss over her hair, she would never hear the end of it.