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Authors: D.L. Carter

Ridiculous (31 page)

BOOK: Ridiculous
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At home she lay sleepless in her bed for hours.

* * *

The season was half done and the family sitting at the luncheon table, silent and preoccupied, when Felicity recalled Millicent to her primary responsibility.

“I do not understand it,” she said. “We have gentlemen visitors every day, flowers in every room, and still the girls have received no proposals. There is nothing for it, Mr. North, you must increase their dowries and make certain all the gentlemen know about it.”

Felicity had not been informed about Millicent’s concerns regarding dowries, merely the result, and she had to be prevented from literally putting an announcement in the papers once she had heard about Millicent’s solution.

Two girls, pretty and talented with Five Thousand Pounds in the Exchange, to be wed. Apply at Maricourt Place …

Millicent shuddered to think of it.

“I hardly think that is the way to go on,” Millicent glanced down at the plate before her and was surprised to see she was eating fish. Generally, she despised fish. When neither of her sisters spoke she looked around the table. “You are all quiet today.”

“Silence is not a crime,” said Mildred.

“Oh, I do grant you that, it is just unusual in this house. Perhaps you are all tired. We need not go out every night. It might be as well that we stay at home tonight and be comfortable beside the fire.”

“Oh, no,” cried Felicity. “Tonight is the Earl of Decrent’s ball. We must go for Maude’s sake.”

Millicent blinked at that information and sat up to regard her youngest sister with interest. “Oh? Am I to expect a visit from a gentleman of that family?”

“I doubt it very much,” said Maude stiffly. “You need not put yourself out for me; we can stay home tonight with my blessing. I have no expectations.”

“Maude, what are you saying?” said Felicity. “You know very well that the earl’s second son has been paying you the most pointed attention.” She turned to Millicent. “He danced twice with her at the Henderson’s ball and took her in to supper there and last night at the musicale he was most attentive. When we go walking in the park he appears most days to keep us company.”

Millicent glanced toward her youngest sister who was studying the contents of her wine glass with particular attention. “I think if we were to ask Maude we would find that the earl’s son has been dancing at her heels for longer than a few days. Did you not meet him at your very first ball?”

It took only one glance at Maude’s reddened cheeks for Felicity to judge the truth of Millicent’s words.

“I wonder why has he not called on you here?” asked Felicity. “He has had enough time, it seems, to be certain of his affections.”

Maude declined to answer. To stave off an inquisition from Felicity, Millicent rose from her place at the head of the table and went to sit between her sister and mother and instead asked the necessary questions gently.

“Are you being courted? Are his eyes framed with dark lashes?” teased Millicent. “Do his legs show to good advantage in stockings?”

A dimple appeared in one of Maude’s cheeks and she shot a sidelong look toward Millicent. “He looks very fine and is very graceful in the dance.”

Millicent leaned a little closer and whispered in Maude’s ear. “And how does he kiss? I admit, I am a little jealous that you are the first of us to find out about kissing.”

Maude blushed again as Felicity began to cry and fuss. “Kisses? Oh. Oh. The scandal.”

“Oh, be still, please,” said Mildred, from her place on the other side of the table. “Kisses behind curtains in ballrooms do not a scandal make. It would be more of a scandal, or at least a cause for shame, if we managed to get from one end of the season to the other with neither of us kissed at least once.”

“Mildred, how can you be so casual?” demanded Felicity.

“Because I have been at Maude’s side at every event, just as you have. I know very well Maude has had no opportunity for truly wicked behavior. And I have been in her confidence. While the earl’s son is handsome and an excellent dancer, he is also impoverished. He has come to the conclusion that Maude’s dower is far from sufficient for his needs and he has so informed her.”

“Oh,” cried Millicent, drawing back. “The scoundrel. I shall seek him out and teach him better manners. To say something so unkind to a young lady is unforgivable.”

“Oh, no. It was not like that,” Maude clutched at Millicent’s sleeve. “Please do nothing to him. I know you and the duke could discredit him up and down the whole of town, if you wished. No. I told Mildred that he said how very sad he was he could not pursue a courtship with me however much he might be tempted to. He does not have an independence and cannot keep me as well as I deserve.”

“Was this before or after a kiss?” demanded Millicent. When Maude lowered her gaze to the table, Millicent rose and began to pace the room, swearing under her breath.

“Please, Mr. North, do not be cross with him. I am not.” Maude pulled a kerchief from her long sleeve and sniffed into it. “I forgive him. He is not responsible for his secondary status or his family’s lack of estate. But I would prefer not to discuss the matter and I would rather go to a different entertainment tonight.”

“You are too disinterested.” Millicent paused in her pacing and turned to face her other sister. “And you, Mildred. Am I to expect a caller on your behalf?”

“No.”

Felicity and Millicent exchanged a glance.

“No? Just no,” said Millicent. “I am certain that is not so. Surely, I have seen you with a half dozen bucks dancing attendance upon you each evening.”

Mildred shook her head. “They are no one of consequence.”

“Now I am confused. I would have thought from your manner that you found them pleasing. Has no one engaged your affection?”

This time Mildred did not answer. Maude, happy to have the family’s attention on someone else, leapt into the fray.

“Oh, ho. Silence speaks loudest. Mildred has a beau!”

“She has not,” declared Mildred, with some heat. “She has no such thing and is in expectation of remaining … alone.”

“Come, Mildred,” demanded Millicent. “I must know. Have you met someone?”

“I have met several people.”

Millicent waited for more and when there were no words forthcoming, again began pacing. “This is impossible. Have you forgotten you can confide in me? Mildred? Am I so changed that I am unworthy of whispered secrets?”

There was stunned silence from the three women, then Felicity, for a change, shook herself as if coming out of a trance and laughed. “You cannot be cross that your disguise has worked so well. Are you truly shocked that we keep feminine secrets from you, the man of the house? I thought that was the objective!”

Mildred and Maude began to giggle. Millicent stopped and crossed her hands over her chest.

“And now you do look as stern and cross as Papa used to,” observed Maude.

“I now understand his reasons,” muttered Millicent.

“Sit down and eat, Mr. North,” commanded Felicity, amused at Millicent’s frustration.

Millicent stood for a moment completely stunned, then burst out laughing. When she regained her composure, Mildred smiled upon her sister.

“I am sorry, dear. You have been out and about dealing with the tenants, making money, and other such masculine things and I have not had a chance for a long coze with you for months. I have come to rely more on Maude in your absence.”

“I suppose I have only myself to blame. Please forgive me, I have been neglecting you.” Millicent sighed. “I have been busy, but that does not mean I do not want to know if some young buck has caught your eye. For both masculine and feminine reasons.”

“Not a young buck,” said Mildred softly. “A gentleman.”

“Oh?” Felicity, Maude, and Millicent all leaned forward eagerly.

“Do tell,” commanded Millicent.

“If you must know…”

“Yes,” came the chorus.

“Mr. Simpson,” whispered Mildred, then she blushed.

“Who?” cried Felicity and Maude.

“Mr. Simpson,” cried Millicent. “The duke’s private secretary and creator of miracles, that Mr. Simpson? When did you meet him?”

Mildred gave her sister a look of mixed amusement and disdain. “Mr. North, you sent him to me yourself.”

Millicent stared at her in confusion. “When?”

“The coaches, Mr. North. The coaches. Mr. Simpson appeared one morning with four coaches, complete with drivers and outriders and demanded someone must make a decision. Since Mr. North declared that the ladies of the house were going to use them, the ladies must decide. Four secondhand coaches cluttering up Maricourt Place, with all the staff of our neighborhood sitting on the steps and staring, while Mr. Simpson and I climbed in and out of the wretched things examining the fixtures and commenting on the squabs.”

“Oh, dear God,” Millicent covered her face. She could well imagine the disruption four complete coaches could create in their small and fashionable square. Poor Mildred, the subject of those stares. “You did not say anything at the time. Just that we had a coach.”

“It was nothing.” Mildred shrugged and tried to return her attention to her food.

“Obviously, it was something.”

Mildred threw down her napkin in disgust. “Very well, it was. It was the merest hint of interest. It was noticing that the gentleman has nice eyes, that he spoke to the servants kindly no matter how impatient they were. It was the slightest thought crossing my mind that I would like to speak to him again and judge if it were possible, if the acquaintance persisted, that I might conceivably enjoy his company.”

Maude choked on her wine while Millicent and Felicity frankly stared.

“That is a good deal of words to describe a bare interest,” said Millicent.

“Well, it was not as if I was in his company for more than a quarter hour.”

“You were out for over two hours,” declared Maude. “And when you came in you were blushing to your toes.”

“The wind was chill. I had been exercised climbing in and out of coaches.”

“Now, girls!” Felicity raised one hand and both sisters subsided back into their chairs.

“Well,” said Millicent. “I may not be about to do anything about the penurious son of an earl, but I can do something about Mr. Simpson. Cousin Felicity, dear, please ring the bell.”

“What? What will you do?” cried Mildred, rising as Felicity rang the little silver bell at her elbow.

“Why, I can arrange for you to spend a few minutes furthering your acquaintance with Mr. Simpson.” When Merit appeared Millicent beckoned the butler nearer. “Be so kind as to send a footman over to the Duke of Trolenfield’s residence. Present my compliments to Mr. Simpson, his secretary, and ask him if he will do me the honor of taking a cup of coffee with me this evening.”

Merit bowed himself out. Millicent observed that the butler glowed as he left the room. Any opportunity to communicate with the household of the duke fairly made his day.

“So glad I can make someone happy,” she muttered.

“Milli … Mr. North, you cannot send for him. I will not allow it.”

“How can you stop me? The message is already sent.”

“I will not see him. It would be too humiliating. I will stay upstairs.”

Millicent again regarded her fish, sniffed it suspiciously, and set the plate aside. “It is not humiliating. It is merely coffee. The Duke of Trolenfield has asked his secretary to hold himself available should I happen to need something, and tonight I have decided to need his company.”

“Well, you cannot tell him you need a husband for me!” Mildred came to her feet.

“How ignorant do you think I am?” Millicent laughed. “Dear Mildred, I am only providing you the opportunity to decide if further acquaintance … I do not remember what you said exactly, but you wanted another opportunity to examine him. Therefore, I provide it. It is my duty to provide what you need.”

“But what will you say when he comes?”

“I will think of something.”

* * *

Mr. Simpson arrived promptly at six. He first made his bow to Mildred, seated beside the coffee service.

“Ah, Miss. Boarder. I do hope the coach you selected is giving satisfaction.”

“It has four wheels and does not turn over,” said Millicent before her sister could reply. “What else do we need?”

Mildred granted Millicent a frosty stare that would have done credit to the highest stickler of the
ton
.

“Mr. North has no understanding, and since he would walk from engagement to engagement if we were to permit it, he sees no need for the carriage.” Mildred offered Mr. Simpson a plate of cakes and a smile. “The ladies of the house, on the other hand, are very grateful for your assistance.”

“My pleasure.”

Millicent found herself staring at the familiar face of Shoffer’s trusted secretary. The man was hardly handsome by conventional measures and she could not tell by examination of his features if he were worthy of being trusted with her sister’s future. Would he turn into a drunkard as years passed? Would he be short-tempered and intolerant of the noise children made? As if suddenly aware of her thoughts, Mr. Simpson turned and gave Millicent a weak smile.

“His Grace asked me to apologize for his neglect the last few days. He has been busy with parliamentary business.”

That startled Millicent who missed him dreadfully, but had not thought gentlemen offered each other apologies.

“Oh, has he neglected us? I hardly noticed. But then, we can hardly expect such a high ranked gentleman to be always dancing attendance upon us.” Millicent shrugged as if she were not painfully aware of each of the hours and minutes since last she had seen him. Of the hours spent speculating on with whom he had spent those hours and minutes. On the possibility that he had set up a mistress or was seriously courting some young woman out of Millicent’s sight. “Please tell His Grace that we continue to go on as planned. Lady Beth is happily escorting my cousins about town and they have come over quite popular, if the number of invitations on my desk is any indication.”

“His Grace will be gratified. Now, what service may I provide you?”

Mildred winced and almost spilt scalding coffee over her guest’s hand. Her agitation was understandable since Millicent had teased her all afternoon, claiming that she was going to announce that she needed someone to take Mildred off her hands, would Mr. Simpson have any opinions to offer? After all, he was so efficient in finding a house and carriage, would husbands be that much more difficult?

BOOK: Ridiculous
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