A Dash of Scandal(13)
“Oh, I wouldn’t, Aunt. You can trust me on that,” she said, feeling somewhat guilty, since she’d just this evening been alone with a handsome gentleman. She must make sure that didn’t happen again.
“I’m sure you will behave splendidly, dearie. But it is interesting that Lord Dugdale might be thinking about settling down and making a match. I do wish I could be out and about myself. I know just the questions to ask that wouldn’t raise suspicions.”
“I was careful.”
“I know. It’s always such a delight to hear what is going on with the earls.”
“From what I heard, Aunt Beatrice, it’s clear Lord Dugdale is paying more attention to the young ladies at the parties this year and staying later for dancing at the balls.”
“Oh, it would be so delicious to have one of them finally wed. Maybe now that the earls are reaching their thirties they are finally growing up. But it will be such a shame to lose them. They’ve been splendid to write about all these years, but not a person among the ton will care a pence about them once they are married.”
Millicent watched her aunt’s expression soften as she talked about her work. “You seem to actually enjoy what you do,” Millicent said.
“Dearie, I do. I do. I can’t imagine what it would be like not to have my column to write. It’s my life. Now, did anything else interesting happen?”
Millicent immediately thought of the gentleman she’d met in the hallway in an unused section of the house. She had been drawn to him in a way that excited her. She had never felt the least brazen in her life until she looked into his eyes. He was the only gentleman she had met since coming to London whom she would like to talk to again.
She had been enchanted by his unbelievably blue eyes, the tilt of his head and the way his friendly, disarming grin fascinated her. She couldn’t forget the way her skin prickled when his unveiled gaze swept up and down her with appreciation. And then offering her his pencil before letting her go.
But, was he a gentleman or a rogue?
Millicent mentally shook herself. What was she doing daydreaming about him? She was at the parties to do a job for her aunt, not to get starry-eyed over a courtly rogue who dared to be so forward as to detain her, then caress her hand and blow her a kiss so tantalizing she could almost feel its softness land against her cheek. Besides, he could be a married scoundrel for all she knew.
Several handsome young gentlemen in her village had tried to persuade her to accept their marriage proposals, but Millicent was waiting until she met a man she wanted to be with every day for the rest of her life.
Millicent wondered if she could feel that way about the nameless gentleman she had met last night. Already she wanted to see him again. She wanted to know if she would have that same sensuous experience of breathless wonder when she looked into his eyes the second time.
Her father had provided well for her and she had no need to marry for financial security. She wanted to marry for love.
But, Aunt Beatrice had made it clear that she was here to do an assignment. If she enjoyed a little of the Season along the way, so be it, but that was not her primary responsibility. Still, Millicent couldn’t help but think about the upcoming evening and look forward to it with a very different attitude than she had the previous evening of engagements.
“Come, come, dearest, don’t take so long over your thinking. We must finish this before I sleep. Did you hear anything else that we need to write about?”
“No, nothing other than what I’ve already told you. I’m sure I’ll do better tonight.”
“It does take a certain aptitude to listen to conversations and glean what is good gossip and what is mere talk, not worthy of print. Now, don’t hurry with your rewriting of this so there will be no mistakes in the column, and see that Phillips delivers the package on time.”
“Consider it done.”
“Splendid.” Beatrice’s eyes closed. “Now leave me, Millicent. I need to rest.” Her eyes popped open. “Don’t forget to seal the paper with Truefitt’s crest.”
“I’ll take care of everything,” Millicent said softly, wishing she could bend down and place a tender kiss on her aunt’s forehead, but with Hamlet curled beside his mistress that was not going to happen.
“Go on to sleep, Aunt Beatrice, and dream of pleasant things. All will be well.”
Millicent tiptoed out of the room and softly closed her aunt’s door. She walked down the shadowed hallway to her bedroom and, after sending her maid, Glenda, downstairs for tea, Millicent shut herself inside. She turned up the lamp on the small desk that had been put in the room for her and sat down to start the painfully slow work of rewriting the article, making all the corrections her aunt had suggested, thankful that the gossip column wasn’t very long.