Authors: D.L. Carter
It was into this debate that Millicent and Shoffer walked, all unaware.
“Timothy. Timothy,” cried Beth, leaping to her feet. “Please, my dear, support me. We have a ballroom and I have a larger guest list to use. We must host the ball.”
“Which ball?” inquired Shoffer.
“It is hardly proper,” cried Felicity. “Mr. North, I insist we must do it.”
Millicent glanced back and forth between the two women, even as Beth seized both Shoffer’s and Millicent’s arms to draw them further into the room.
“You are a person of sense,” said Beth to Millicent. “Inform your cousin that her suggestion simply will not do.”
“I beg you, leave me out of this,” said Millicent. “My duty, as far as my cousins are concerned, is to pay for their entertainments. I have no other role.”
“This is far more important. As the head of our household, your voice is final.” There was a note in Felicity’s eye and a hardness to her voice that promised all manner of punishments if Millicent spoke against her mother’s plan, head of the household or no. “You agree with me that we will host Mildred’s engagement ball.”
“Oh, but I thought we were having a garden party,” said Millicent weakly. “An afternoon tea. It is all arranged and paid for.”
“That,” declared Felicity, “was arranged for an entirely different reason. The engagement requires a separate celebration.”
“Oh, heaven,” sighed Millicent sinking into a chair. “Another expense.”
“Do not be a skinflint. This is your dearest cousin. You cannot be so miserly as to deny her an engagement ball.”
“Actually, I rather prefer Maude…” began Millicent, grinning.
“No,” cried Felicity, echoed by Beth.
“Enough,” cried Mr. Simpson, overriding all voices and stunning his future mother-in-law into silence. “Ladies, as much as I appreciate your efforts on my behalf and the enthusiasm with which you wish to welcome me into your family, I must insist any engagement party be in proportion to my rank. While both I and my dear Mildred are members of good families, both distantly related to an earl, a grand
ton
ball is not the appropriate manner for announcing our engagement. A simple dinner party with friends is all that is required.”
He beamed at them all. Millicent glanced toward her sister in time to see her nod her head in support of her future husband. Astonishing! Beth and Felicity growled and grumbled at having their plans dismissed, but soon turned to quarreling about which household would host the dinner. Shoffer caught Millicent’s eye, then Simpson’s and summoned them both with a jerk of his head. Without offering apologies to any of the ladies, the gentlemen retreated.
“Could I possibly impose upon you,” said Millicent to Simpson, “to provide a home for your mother-in-law after your marriage?”
“Mr. North, how can you say that?” asked Simpson, with a grin. “I thought you liked me.”
Millicent looked back at Lady Beth, her chin firm and lower lip pouted, her sisters glowing with shared happiness, Felicity, happy to have one daughter well settled, confident enough in her position to quarrel with the sister of a duke, and started to laugh. It took a moment for Shoffer to work out the reason, then he joined in. Simpson waited until after the ladies of the two households began to giggle before he surrendered to the general merriment.
Eventually Millicent regained control of herself. Looking Shoffer directly in the eye, she whispered, “I have never been so happy in my life.”
“Nor have I,” replied the duke.
* * *
After giving the matter serious thought, Beth announced over breakfast the next morning that she had resolved the matter of the engagement celebration.
“Did you not learn your lesson?” interrupted Shoffer, regarding his sister over the coffee pot. “The Boarders will not thank you for your presumption. It is their place to celebrate the engagement!”
“Oh, phoo, Timothy. I am not so much a fool as that. I intend to present it to Felicity in such a way that she will think it her idea. And when Mr. North protests the cost, then I shall step in and offer to share it.”
Shoffer winced at the enthusiasm in her voice. He was learning to mistrust that tone. It seemed to presage all manner of difficulties for him. Although he could not bring himself to regret Beth’s emergence from her shell, it was occasionally inconvenient.
“That is not proper at all, poppet. You cannot be giving money to Mr. North.”
“Oh, do not frown so, Timothy, it is not so bad. I thought only to suggest that we go to Vauxhall for the evening. A small party. Just Mr. North and his family, Mr. Simpson, and ourselves. If there is any member of the senior branch of Mr. Simpson’s family in town, we may invite them, as well.” When Shoffer did not comment, she continued. “Only think, Timothy. What other entertainment in London is so egalitarian?”
“Egalitarian? What have you been reading?”
“Nothing you would not approve. Well? Shall you come with me to see the Boarders?”
Shoffer made a show of rolling his eyes and groaning. Before he could open his eyes warm arms were wrapped about his neck.
“Please. Please, Timothy. Say we can go. It will be so much fun.”
“Dear sister, how can I refuse you when you are choking me to death?”
Beth loosened her grip, laughing.
“Little hoyden. What a bad example we have set you. Strangling people to get your way. Shocking little minx.”
“’Twas meant to be a hug,” pouted Beth.
“Very well. Present the suggestion to the Boarders, but be prepared to accept their refusal.” When Beth gave a shout of joy, Shoffer continued. “Only because you are determined to visit Vauxhall and I will only permit you to attend in my company.”
Beth bent to hug him again, and kiss his cheek before hurrying from the room.
“Thank you, best of all brothers,” she shouted back over her shoulder. “Ask Forsythe to send round the carriage; I am going at once.”
“Take a message for me,” shouted Shoffer after her. “Tell North I shall see him later today. One o’clock. He knows where and why.”
Beth waved and disappeared. A nod from Shoffer sent a footman to arrange for the carriage for Beth. After finishing his breakfast, Shoffer spent a few hours working with Simpson before departing for his appointment. It did not occur to him that Millicent would not be waiting for him. She would. She wanted him as much as he desired her.
Simpson found he was unable to hold the duke’s attention to any of the matters raised. Not farm, nor mine, nor investments on the Exchange could batter through Shoffer’s distraction.
“I think, Your Grace, that we are gaining nothing today.”
“Are you dismissing me from my studies, Simpson?” Shoffer grinned. “Or are you seeking extra time to spend with your beloved?”
Simpson reddened slightly. “Miss Mildred is busy with her mother this morning. I was thinking more that your mind is elsewhere.”
“I admit that is true. Perhaps I have spring fever. The weather is so much improved I would much rather be out and about.”
Simpson’s gaze flickered toward the window and back without changing expression. While it was not actively raining, the sky was overcast and dismal. It was an improvement over outright snow, sleet, or fog, but only a man blind or in love could imagine it a fine day.
“I have correspondence to attend to, Your Grace, if you wish to finish for the day.”
“Bother the correspondence, Simpson. Go visit your fiancée. Steal her away from her family for a walk or some such. Life is too short to spend writing letters for me.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
“And tell Forsythe to have my greys set to my phaeton.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Simpson gathered his papers and left, still frowning. Not half an hour later, Shoffer was seated in his high flier, smiling, gloved hands gently gripping the reins.
It was a beautiful day, bright with a soft breeze. He hoped North was in a good mood for he fully intended that they not waste such a day indoors. He wanted to carry out his threat to take North shopping for clothes. A man bore the responsibility and the pleasure of dressing his mistress. North, skinflint that she was, spent too much time in secondhand clothes. This season’s colors for married and experienced women were bright golds and blues which would suit her coloring brilliantly. He had seen some brocaded silks from China and India that would look very well on North. Lacking a lady’s maid, North eschewed stays which made seduction easier for Shoffer, but that meant that soft, sheer chemises were more important and he knew exactly which store provided the best. And he wanted to purchase a few light, lacy night rails for her, as well. Stripping her out of her day dresses was all very well, but there was something about feminine curves, encased in glowing silk, moving towards a man through candle lit gloom that enhanced arousal.
He wanted to take her shopping. To have her hand resting on his arm as they paraded down Bond Street. Then, when she was suitably attired, they would take the air during the Grand Parade and he would show her off to the
ton
gathered at the park. His smile broadened. He would be the focus of the greedy eyes of envious men when they saw him side by side with the most beautiful woman of the
ton
.
He blinked and shook himself, almost colliding with another carriage.
By the Gods, he was in love. He was in love with North! There was no other explanation for the odd path of his thoughts.
When had he become so besotted? When?
Love could be the only name for the warmth that resided in his chest. The lightness of his step during the day. The heat that arose in him whenever he considered her name.
He was in love with his best friend, his dearest companion: North.
North was his friend, his lover; she was the one person he could trust with his treasured sister, with his mind and his confidences.
He considered the matter for a moment. Being in love with North was not a problem. Indeed, he approved it. He had been worried that he was incapable of that emotion and it was reassuring to finally achieve it. There was only the problem on continuing in this happy state considering that
she
insisted upon remaining a
he.
This engagement of Simpson’s would work well for the ongoing affaire with North. It was only to be expected that a devoted cousin such as North would want to visit the newlyweds. Shoffer, being a considerate employer and friend to both sides of the union would offer Mr. North accommodations in his own home whenever North came to visit the family.
It was even possible that cousin Felicity and little Maude would want to live close by to Mildred. Shoffer could find a house to rent to them and the sisters and mother could keep each other company. Not too big a house. He wanted no spare bedroom kept ready for North when she visited. And in the summer Shoffer and North could travel the countryside together visiting their properties. He would give the matter some thought. He was certain there was a way for that to be possible. Did not other gentlemen travel from house party to house party in each other’s company?
Since the families were bonded by matrimony and common country society who could protest the constant companionship?
Hours spent riding together. Nights spent in each other’s arms. The very thought was delightful. Since they both possessed female relatives no one would raise an eyebrow should female clothes be found in North’s luggage. Then, whenever they were so inspired, “Helene” could appear in public with Shoffer and keep the gossips at bay.
And, if he gave the matter some thought, he might find some small cottage in an out of the way village they might use as a house of assignation. Somewhere North could wear women’s clothing. Where they could walk together down country lanes as a man and woman.
He thought, when North revealed her true feminine nature, that it would be difficult to transfer his affection for his masculine friend to the female who lurked beneath the disguise, but that had not been the case. North’s feminine nature was so engaging that Shoffer had fallen into desire and lust, and now love, without seeing the hole beneath his feet.
How odd, and yet, how not, that love had grown between them.
He considered the matter as he navigated the crowded streets. All things considered together, he did not mind being in love with North. She was a handsome, even-tempered woman whose jokes never failed to make him laugh and whose smile filled his heart with joy. He enjoyed her company above all others.
Loving one’s mistress was not so much a sin as loving one’s wife, in the eyes of the
ton
– not that their opinions mattered.
His current relationship was complicated, but he saw less reason now to end it. North already had admitted she loved him. Now he knew he loved her.
Altogether, a very happy relationship.
* * *
His plans to take the air of Bond Street went out the window as soon as he arrived. The housekeeper met him at the door with the information that “Mrs. Winthrop” was already upstairs. Shoffer nodded, then jogged up the stairs two at a time. When he threw open the bedroom door, he found Millicent already situated under the blankets. Not, however, with the flow of her hair arranged over the pillows, her hair was too short for that. Nor was she smiling seductively and raising her naked arms toward him, drawing him across the room and into her embrace.
No.
Attired only in a thin cotton chemise, she was leaning against the headboard, legs crossed, with a filo open on her knees and she was reading correspondence while chewing on a pencil. Shoffer thought he had never seen so alluring a woman.
Millicent glanced up and smiled as she watched Shoffer draw off his cravat and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
“Good afternoon to you, Your Gracefulness.”
“Good afternoon, my love.”
He waited a beat to see if she would react to the word, but she did not. Instead she watched avidly as each layer of clothing was removed.
“I heard your sister’s suggestion for the engagement party,” said Millicent, conversationally as the duke’s shirt followed his jacket to the floor. “I take it you have approved the outing? I find I do not trust the girl where her own amusements are concerned.”