The Mischievous Bride (7 page)

He smiled down at her. “Why not?”

The tenseness she felt evaporated. “Finally, a man who sees things my way. I am hoping the duke sees the sense in it too.”

“You do?”

“Well, yes. You see, I plan to buy a place in Bath and turn it into a wonderful school for young women where ladies can learn the best things in the world. Just like gentlemen learn at Eton and other places where Society sends their sons.”

He paused for a minute, looking up at the sky. “I daresay, that will take a good sum of money.”

“Oh, it’s not as if I am going to ask Roderick for a vast sum. I will be using my own money for that. Papa was quite wealthy in his own right.”

“Was he?”

Her eye sparkled with delight. Finally, a man who didn’t want her for her money. How refreshing. “Indeed, and he left half of his estate to me.” She shrugged. “But I have no need of all that money. There are better things to do with it anyway. Besides, Stephen is so afraid someone will marry me for my inheritance that I believe he would like to lock me up in a tower. My sister worries about me too, and that is the last thing I want for her. She is quite concerned about certain type of gentlemen suitors.”

Knightengale’s brows dipped. “Fortune hunters you mean. I suppose I would feel the same way if I were your guardian.”

She touched his arm. “I see we understand each other. But this way, I can kill two birds with one stone.”

He look a bit confused, but he raised his large hands to adjust the jacket sitting on her shoulders.

She looked up at him, her eyes crinkling with delight. “For one thing, I will rid myself of my money by the end of the year. That way, no fortune hunter will ever come near me. And second, my dream of a great school will be born.”

He frowned, letting a hand trail along her arm. “And does your family agree to your plans?”

She watched him, wondering if he was cold and wanted his jacket back. “Oh no. Stephen is a dear, but he would not agree to my plans. Did you know he is my guardian until I turn twenty-one? So, whoever wants to marry me has to go through him.”

“That is quite a plan, Miss Millicent. I hope you succeed.”

Happiness filled her. Finally, a man who listened to her. “Do you?”

His dark eyes gleamed like tiny flames in the moonlight, making her think he was quite a sympathetic man. “I understand the female mind a bit better than some of my fellow lords,” he said gently.

She grinned as she slid the coat off her shoulders. “You are so very kind. But before we return, I should give this back to you. Thank you for your gallantry.”

He took the jacket. “Thank you,
Milli
. You don’t mind me calling you by that name, do you?”

She avoided his steadfast gaze and shifted her gaze toward the sky. “Well...”

Lizzie had told her that since she was older now, in no uncertain terms should she let any gentleman who was not family call her Milli unless he was her fiancé. However, the kindness of Lord Knightengale touched her. Yet, the man was not her fiancé or anywhere near that.

“I am sorry, but I think not,” she said apologetically. “It is my name. The shortened version, of course.” She threw her palms in the air. “But people might think . . . things.”

He leaned toward her, taking her face in his huge hands. “What things, my dear?”

She pulled back, feeling a bit panicky. The feel of his cool skin shocked her. Lizzie had warned her that moonlight did funny things to gentlemen. “Uh, perhaps we should be heading back to the supper room?”

He stroked her cheek. “You’re a beautiful woman. Don’t you want me to kiss you?”

“Kiss me?” she squeaked. “I think n—”

But he didn’t let her finish. With one hand, he swept her onto the nearby bench, hauled her against him and pressed his mouth to hers.

Stunned, she grabbed his shoulders for support. She should have slapped him away, but at first, she was too stunned to react. Besides, a slap to a man this size would probably make him laugh. And then he might try kissing her again.

When her brain finally snapped to attention, she pressed her hands against his massive chest, trying to push away. But it was like trying to move a boulder.

His beefy hand wrapped around her waist, steadying her, and he wasn’t letting her go!

She was finally able to jerk her lips from his, seething.

In the dim recesses of her mind, she realized his kiss wasn’t anything like Marcus’s. There was no tingling in the pit of her stomach. No floating on air. No heat. No passion. Nothing special. In fact—

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

The angry words made Milli jump. She would have fallen off the bench had Knightengale not caught her. She peered around the man’s broad shoulders to see two smoldering gray eyes glaring at her. “Marcus!”

The blood drained from her face, and she actually felt herself gulp.

“It was my fault entirely,” Knightengale said as he swung Milli back to the ground as if she were as light as a feather.

“You filthy dog!” Marcus was beside them in a second, grabbing Knightengale by the collar.

Milli yelped. Knightengale had thirty pounds on him if not more. “Marcus! Stop!”  

Knightengale socked Marcus’s hand away. His dark eyes glittered with fury. “A brawl at the ball is not to my liking, but if you insist.”

Marcus shot Milli a blazing glare that made her blush. “Get yourself back to the ballroom at once and wait for me. We are going into that supper hall together.”

“Wait for you?” she repeated, shifting her gaze between the two angry men. Her stomach turned when she saw Knightengale’s fist curl beside him. It was a huge fist, she thought worriedly. Very huge.

“I won’t go,” Milli bit out, lifting her chin in defiance. “I won’t let him hurt you, Marcus. No matter what you say!”

Knightengale loosened his hand by his side and smirked.

Milli’s eyes narrowed on the man. She didn’t care for that smug expression. “I didn’t like your kiss anyway.”

It was Marcus’s turn to snicker at her remark, but his eyes had turned black with rage. “Milli, I want you to do what I say. Leave us.”

Milli chewed her bottom lip as fearful images of Marcus’s bloody body flitted through her brain. Knightengale would squash him to a pulp.

She turned her back to Marcus and pressed her small hands against Knightengale’s broad chest, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t hurt him,” she whispered.

“I heard that,” Marcus replied in a harsh tone. “And if you think I am going to let some gentleman take advantage of you—”

She spun around. “I kissed him! Is that what you want to hear?”

Marcus’s silver eyes turned deadly. In one swift motion, he picked her up and moved her aside. “Return to the ballroom, or I shall carry you there and return here to finish my business.”

Knightengale let out a dark laugh as he started down the graveled path toward the ballroom. “For the love of King George, Marcus. I cannot in good faith hit you. One, you are my friend. And two, I would smash your handsome face so bad, women would hate me forever.”

Milli sighed in relief as she watched the huge man turn the bend and disappear. She had her back to Marcus, ready to stop him if he decided to run around her in order to apprehend Knightengale.

“Well,” she sighed, staring toward the empty path, “at least one of you had the good sense to stop.”

A host of emotions were swirling in her head. She didn’t like being scooped up like some ball and thrown place to place by either of the men. She didn’t like Knightengale’s kiss. And she didn’t like Marcus being so angry with her.

Marcus said nothing. Tension filled the space between them. She could feel his glare burning into her back. She swallowed, thinking it was better having him angry with her rather than lying on the ground, bleeding to death.

She waited a few seconds, wondering if she should turn around and face him. No, that didn’t seem like a good idea. She heard a low growl followed by a string of curses. Goodness, this was not a time to have a discussion with a bear!

She put one foot in front of the other and started down the trail back to the ballroom. She made it about three steps before an ironclad hand clapped onto her shoulder, stopping her.

“Wait just a minute!”

She spun on her slippers, giving Marcus her best glower. “What is it?”

The fire in his eyes almost singed her hair. She faltered, wondering if she could make a run for it.

He squeezed her shoulders, making her feel about five years old. “If I ever find you out here with another gentleman who is not your fiancé—”

Anger got the best of her. How dare he treat her like a child! He didn’t own her! He didn’t love her! And he was the one who let her leave with Knightengale in the first place!

“Oh, you poor little lord. Are you mad because he kissed better than you?”

In one swift move, he dragged her toward him. “I thought you said you didn’t like his kiss?”

Drat. The nearness of him was doing funny things to her. She was remembering his warm lips on hers. She could barely think as she stared at his mouth. “I didn’t like it. But . . . it was much better than yours . . . that is . . . if I have to rate it.”

He dropped his hands from her as if she were as cold as ice. “I should lock you in your room.”

Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. “J—just try.”

“You were literally throwing yourself at him! Do you want the rest of the
ton
to think you a . . . a flirt? Do you want to taint Elizabeth and Stephen, let alone Jane who has done so much for you?”

She swallowed. She had never thought about that.

“When I think of all the stupid things you’ve pulled in the years I’ve known you, this one is the worst.”

She dropped her gaze, not willing to look at him. He despised her.

“That idiotic jump in the library was nothing compared to this! You are a spoiled brat, and it’s time someone took you in hand.”

She bit her lip as anguish tore at her heart. She was unable to move.

“Your sister would be mortified if she knew what you were doing out here. Your Papa, God Bless his soul, gave you everything, never telling you no,” he continued, his silver eyes sweeping over her in contempt. “And it’s time someone told you something besides yes!”

A trembling fury began to build inside her. She would think about her broken heart later. Right now, she was taking all she could from this man.

She stomped her foot against the gravel beneath her. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

He blinked in shock. “What did you say?”

Her chest heaved. “I hate you!”

His black brows puckered. He seemed to realize what he had been saying, but it was too late. He had severed the small thread that had held them together, and she wanted him to know it.

“I hate you,” she whispered, no longer able to contain her anger, she was shaking so badly.

He frowned, taking a hesitant step toward her. “Perhaps I—”

She glared at him, not caring about the tears flowing down her cheeks. “Do not say another word to me. I think you have made your point quite clear.”

She turned and ran along the path back to the ballroom, wiping the wetness from her face, hoping no one would see her. All she wanted to do was hurry home. But she could not. The duchess had asked her to stay the night.

The ache in her chest grew. She had thought the ball would be wonderful. But the past few hours had been a nightmare.

Chapter Six

M
arcus felt like a complete idiot as he entered the empty ballroom. He should never have taken his fury out on Milli. But the thought of Knightengale holding her, kissing her, had stirred his anger. When Knightengale was no longer his target, he had moved on to her. The ache in her eyes had speared his heart.

He lifted a hopeful gaze to the sound of approaching footsteps echoing against the floor. They were too light to be a man’s. Perhaps Milli was reconsidering her cold words. His eyes widened on the duchess. “Jane—”

She entered the empty ballroom, her keen gaze taking in his frown. “Did you find Milli?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes and no? You don’t look too happy about it. Where is she?”

“I’m right here, Jane.”

Marcus was surprised to see two large gray eyes peeping out from behind the pillar. Relief caused him to smile. “Milli?”

She walked toward them, her pink gown making her glow beneath the candlelight. Her delicate form made his heart race. He had to admit, this female was no longer a child. But she wouldn’t look at him.

“Oh, Jane, I have a terrible headache. Would you mind very much if I went to my room for the evening?”

Jane frowned as she exchanged glances between the two. “I had hoped Marcus would bring you into supper.” She lowered her voice and glanced behind her. “Everyone is asking about you. I told them you had taken a bit of a break from the festivities, but would return as soon as you could. “

Milli saw the worry in Jane’s eyes and realized what Jane was not saying. The gossipmongers had started already. They had seen her leave with Knightengale.

But where was the man? Had he left?

Milli sighed, spreading her lips into a tight smile. “I just needed a bit of air or I thought I would swoon.”

Marcus cleared his throat.

Milli glared at him. “Well, I had a headache.” She turned back to the duchess. “I daresay, I wasn’t feeling quite the thing. Pray, forgive me for not helping you host the supper. But I am feeling better every minute we stand here.”

“And you are staying the night, after all,” Jane said relieved. “If you decided to retire for the evening, I could explain. But I must say, I am pleased you feel better.” She worried her bottom lip. “Some people were noticing Knightengale’s departure as well.”  

Milli felt about two inches tall.

The duchess’s expression wavered as she turned to Marcus. “Would you mind escorting Milli into supper? I find . . . I need to sit down.”

Milli walked closer.

Beneath the candlelight, Jane looked a bit pale.

“Are you feeling ill?” Milli whispered, recalling the duchess’s condition.