Neville hadn’t mentioned any troubles of his own. On the other hand, he had said something odd, hadn’t he? Something about things Millie did not know…
“Well we have to come up with a serious illness, and quickly, too,” Lady Sarah said. “I put on quite a performance as we went through the theater lobby, Harbury. Tears! Me!”
“Over me?” Harbury’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Why, Sarah, I’m touched.”
“Don’t joke.” Sarah folded her arms. “After the dramatic way we exited, you can’t emerge tomorrow and say you merely suffered from sniffles.”
“How about a stomach complaint?” Eliza suggested.
“Wouldn’t that cause suspicion, too?” Cassie questioned.
“Maybe… Maybe not,” Adrian commented, considering. “I’ve seen soldiers instantly taken down, dragged close to death’s door, and then recover in the matter of a few days over something in the rancid food.” He squinted. “Although they tended to look drawn and weak when they emerged.”
Harbury appeared affronted. “I can manage wan!”
“Can you?” Cassie appeared dubious.
“He can.” Sarah chuckled softly. “If you break his heart.”
Harbury narrowed his eyes. “I suppose I deserved that, though my brokenhearted days are long past.” He took Cassie’s hand. “Stomach complaint it is, then. Serious. Death’s door. And only my wife is permitted to attend me. Strict orders.No oneelse.”
“Edward,” Cassie chided, while smiling that secret smile she offered only to her husband.
For once, Millie didn’t scoff. Instead, she studied. Did that softening of the eyes indicate true tenderness? Is that how one knew one was loved?
“Which leaves us with Millie,” Eliza said.
Her relatives turned, in unison, to her. Like the tripartite mirror atop the dressing table she shared with Lenora, Millie saw multiple reflections of the same expression. Each face was unique, but their looks of concern were one.
Heavens, how that concern stoked her guilt.
She’d rather face one of her father’s beatings. If all she had to endure was physical pain, she could maintain inward defiance, instead of feeling this awful remorse.
Then again, if her father were alive, he would have married her off to one of his friends to secure political favor long before now. Surely that would have been far worse….
“Shouldn’t Neville be here by now?” she asked, hoping to change the subject. Not that she wanted him here, but the wait was excruciating.
“Don’t you remember?” Sarah asked gently. “He said finding Asquith might take time.”
As if summoned by her thoughts, a knock sounded at the door. Millie’s heart leapt to her throat. This was the moment she must decide how she felt.
The duke called, “Enter”, but only Asquith appeared.
Millie exhaled roughly and threw back her head. She watched Asquith study her for a long moment, then his gaze moved slowly between her family before returning to herself.
“Millicent, might I have a word?”
“Please.” She threw out her arm in a way that encompassed all her relatives. “Speak in front of everyone. Apparently, I no longer have a single secret.”
“No? The Millie I know has never been an open book.” He tilted his head and smiled a mocking half-smile. “Won’t you come out to the stables? I’ve acquired a horse this afternoon, and I’d like your opinion.”
Again, her family reacted as one, glancing toward Asquith with expressions of almost comical disbelief.
“That is,” he clarified, “if Harbury does not mind that I’ve made use of his stables.”
“By all means,” Harbury replied. “Use the stables. What’s that to the sudden, debilitating illness my sister has heaped upon my head?”
“Thank you.” Asquith ignored Harbury’s sarcasm. “Millie?”