The Mischievous Bride (21 page)

With a smothered sob, she pushed the pillow into his stomach and ran for the door. Before she could take two steps, he reached out and gently pulled her around to face him.

“It’s not like that. I, uh, thought that if I put my hat in the ring, the suitors who truly want to marry you would come to Bath, and you could have your choice of gentlemen.”

She stared at the guilty look on his face and sniffed. A cold knot of anguish twisted in her chest. “How very generous. You started a competition, is that what you are saying? May the best man win?”

Even through her sarcasm, he seemed relieved. “Yes. You deserve the best man. I aim to see you get him.”

She glared at him. He wanted her to marry another. He had no intention of ever marrying her. When would she get that through her thick head? “You are not interested at all? Is that what you are saying?”

His silver gaze studied her for a few taut seconds, then he tucked the pink pillow back onto the chair. “Didn’t say that.”

“Ah, so you plan to continue this farce until I am married? Is that it?”

He looked up. “Something like that. If the man is worthy, he won’t care about my involvement at all. He will win your heart and take you into his arms, vowing his unending love and devotion.”

Her heart shattered. “I thought you didn’t believe in love?”

He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her.

His pale gray eyes softened as they roamed her face. “Perhaps, I have found a change of heart.”

Milli was more confused than ever.

Chapter Sixteen

C
lad in a light blue gown that set off her chestnut curls and gray eyes, Milli stood beside Jane in the grand salon of the Bath mansion as violin music floated in the air. It was the perfect place to have a ball. With glasses of champagne in their hands, men and women gathered and conversed in loud voices. Candlelight shimmered about room, reflecting off the murals that were painted on the ceiling. Stunning flowers dotted the perimeter of the dance floor while the scent of roses drifted about the room.

Milli was hoping Jane would be delighted at the response of people that had showed up at the ball. That was the very reason Milli had come to Bath. To help Jane. But the duchess’s blue eyes were wider than usual. The lady had been forcing a cheerful disposition all evening. Milli frowned. It was obvious Jane and Roderick were not getting along. They were forever bickering, and she was more than a bit worried about their marriage.

And Marcus wasn’t helping matters any. Why was he so eager to have her wed? It hurt just thinking about it.

She had overheard Jane and Roderick fighting over Marcus’s crazy plan to act as her suitor. But Marcus had given the duchess the same explanation he had given Milli. Jane wasn’t very happy. But to Milli’s astonishment, Roderick and Stephen seemed to agree that Marcus’s approach was brilliant. It was a good way to sift out the true suitors from the havey-cavey ones.

As Milli chatted with Jane, her gaze drifted to Marcus strolling about the room. Her heart skipped at the very sight of him. He was talking to Miss Canton, and he flashed the lady a dazzling smile.

At that moment, Marcus looked up. His eyes met Milli’s. Her breath caught, and she instantly shifted her gaze to the other side of the room. She hadn’t seen much of him the last few days and that was fine with her. She was furious. How dare he pretend to have a fondness for her in order to draw in more gentlemen.

She would show him she was immune to him, even his kisses. She certainly did not need him as a decoy for her suitors.

She had begun the husband hunting plan for Jane, to keep the lady busy, but the entire Bath plan had seemed to backfire, making the duchess’s relationship with Roderick worse, and Milli’s situation more complicated than she ever wanted.

She frowned, wishing she could back out of her plan to find a husband. But if she recalled, it was Marcus who had started all this.

 “Oh, dearest,” Jane said, her eyes lighting up. “Do forgive me. I see Captain Argyle. And there is something I must ask him.”

Milli nodded, her smile not quite meeting her eyes as Jane went off to speak to the captain. A few feet away, Milli saw Roderick’s menacing scowl. The duke muttered a curse as he approached the couple.

Milli’s stomach knotted. She hoped the duke didn’t strike the captain.

“It seems you have many admirers,” Lizzie said, coming up to Milli. “There were many gentlemen talking to Stephen about you.”

Milli kept her narrowed gaze attached to the duke and duchess. “I daresay I am rethinking this plan. I did not think it would cause so many complications.”

Her sister frowned, looking in the same direction. The small orchestra played softly in the background. “It has nothing to do with you. This is something they must figure out for themselves.”

Milli felt tears of frustration fill her eyes. “But they were so happy, Lizzie. Of all the people in the world, I never thought they would have . . . problems like this.”

“They still love each other.”

Milli watched as the duke’s glare turned black as midnight. “Do they?”

“Of course, they do. But you must keep up your spirits. Let this ball be for Jane too. She needs all of us right now.”

“Drat and double drat, I wish we were still in London and none of this ever happened.”

Lizzie chuckled. “Now, now, this is your time to find your husband. Knightengale has the next dance, and then Valford, Breadford and Bennington. Which one of them do you favor?”

Milli grinned, despite the underlying tension between the duke and duchess. “I like them all. But I am not in love. Is that not terrible?”

Lizzie’s tender gaze flew to her husband. “One day, you will find your prince. Have no worries about that. Pray about it. Make wise decisions, and he will be there when you least expect it.”

Milli’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ah, like a knight on a white horse?”

Lizzie chuckled. “Ha, don’t expect the white horse or the knight suit. Stephen tried that and fell flat on his face. In the mud, I might add.”

Milli felt her heart warm as she thought about her brother-in-law’s fight for Lizzie’s hand. “I still have Fennington’s quizzing glass, and Marcus hates that thing.”

Lizzie gasped in horror. “Oh, Milli! No? Stephen hates that quizzing glass! It reminds him of—”

“I know. It reminds him of your past,” Milli said playfully. “But it makes Marcus livid. And I think this is a horrid plan he has devised.”

“I don’t understand it either. But Stephen thinks it grand. Men. I don’t think I will ever understand them.” Lizzie’s gaze drifted across the room. “Oh, and speaking of men, Lord Hughmont doesn’t look too happy. He is sending a glare this way as I speak. I hope you have saved a dance for him.”

Milli rolled her eyes in exasperation. “This is the silliest thing I have ever done. Searching for a husband is ridiculous.”

Her sister looked confused. “But I thought you wanted this?”

“I only wanted to help Jane out of the doldrums. This seemed like a good plan.”

“Oh, Milli, how could you?”

Milli flushed. “Well, I wanted to see her happy. I know. I know. It was a stupid plan. I never thought it would turn into such a web of problems. One thing just kept leading to another thing, and another, and another.”

Lizzie shifted her worried gaze toward Jane. “I know you meant well.”

Milli frowned. “Look at her. She’s miserable. I think—”

A tall shadow hovered over them, halting her speech.

“Ah, Miss Millicent, I believe this is our dance.”

Milli looked up at Lord Knightengale and smiled. “Lizzie, if you would excuse us?”

“Of course, my dear.”

The music was soft and magical as Knightengale twirled her around the ballroom. He smelled of cigars and mints. It was an interesting scent, Milli thought. But the man was holding her a bit closer than she wanted.

“I feel you are taking advantage of me, sir,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a warning.

His bright smile beamed her way. “Don’t be coy, Miss Millicent. You are so very little, and I am so very big. I vow it is hard to get any closer to you unless I place you on my feet as we dance.”

Milli snickered in delight. “How gallant of you, sir.”

After a few minutes, they finished the waltz, laughing with one another. He was as blunt as she, and he seemed to truly care about her.

Another hour passed as Milli danced sets with Bennington, Breadford, and Valford. They were all delightful gentlemen, and Valford had even spoken about the monthly theater meeting, hoping he could play Romeo,

“And you could play Juliet,” he had said eagerly.

Milli couldn’t help but grin at the gentleman. He was the most shy of all her suitors, but there was something quite sweet about the little man. “Do I dare ask? Are you hoping for a kiss, Lord Valford?”

The man reddened. “Well, uh . . .”

She looked over his shoulder, her lips quivering with amusement. His slightness didn’t bother her at all. He complemented her delicate form. But he didn’t affect her the way Marcus did. There was no tingling in the pit of her stomach, no butterflies, no racing heart. Just a calmness as one would have with a friend.

 Lord Hughmont was beside her as soon as she finished her set with Valford. “I thought you promised me the first waltz,” he stated.

Milli frowned. Why was Hughmont so upset? “I don’t recall any such thing.”

Without warning, he took her arm. “
‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’
”

“Oh, please. Not
Hamlet
tonight, sir.”

The man’s face fell. “Oh, very well. Would you like to take a turn in the gardens then? I have some information about that other play we were talking about.”

Milli was about to shrug out of Hughmont’s grasp when she caught sight of Marcus watching her. His eyes narrowed as he started toward them. There was a glint of danger in the man’s gaze that made Milli reckless.

“I would be delighted,” she said, turning and giving Hughmont her best smile. Marcus could do nothing here. A turn in the garden with other men seemed to irritate him. Why not give him a lesson in love. Bath was no different than London.

“Millicent, I believe this is our dance.”

Milli glanced over her shoulder and stammered. How had Marcus approached them so quickly? “Ah, I don’t think—”

Lord Hughmont was tugging on her other arm.

Marcus glared at the man. “This is my dance,” he said, the menace in his tone as hard as steel. “And I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

Hughmont’s lips thinned as he dropped Milli’s arm. “I have no wish to start a scene.” He nodded to her. “Until later, my dear.”

Milli glowered at Marcus, her face turning red. “It is not your dance.”

But it was too late. Marcus had pulled her onto the floor. It was another waltz, and all eyes were upon them.

“Why did you do that?” she hissed.

He pulled her close, wrapping a firm hand about her waist. “I am vying for your attention, my dear.”

Her heart lurched at his boldness. He was playing the part of the eager suitor.

A flutter of voices from a group of older ladies a few feet away drifted to her ear. “My, my, don’t they make an attractive couple.”

Milli felt her cheeks color. “You are making a scene,” she muttered, wishing she could deny this man.

He flashed her a set of white teeth and pulled her closer. “That is the point, is it not?”

Before she could reply, he swung her around the dance floor as if they were walking on air. She broke into a laugh, not able to hold a grudge. “You are . . . a rascal, Lord Marcus Clearbrook.”

 The amusement in his silver eyes softened the harshness in his face. Something seemed to change between them. She wasn’t sure, but a tiny flame of hope ignited in her heart. She shouldn’t do this, she told herself. He would only hurt her again.

Before she could decide what to do, he pressed a warm hand against her back, turning her. “Now, let
me
take you into the gardens.”

His gentle whisper singed her senses. His hold on her tightened in such a tender way, she wanted to cry. He had her in the palm of his hand, and she didn’t care. She wanted to be near him, smell the muskiness of him, feel the strength of him, hear the velvety sound of his voice as he spoke to her now. She was hopeless.

He caressed her with his eyes. Whatever spell he was weaving was working. She shoved her concerns about his past behavior to the back of her mind. She was in heaven with the man she loved, if only for a few minutes.

The jolt of his warm hand slipping to hers, burned through her gloves. With the finesse of an expert, he directed her out the doors and into the gardens. Music drifted in the air, and she felt herself floating on a cloud.

Moonlight barely peeked through the trees as he guided her down the paved stone trail. He entered the low maze of evergreens, as if he knew the turns by heart. The fresh clean scent of trees reached her nostrils, making her more aware of her setting. Unexpectedly, he stopped and whirled her around to face him.

“Marcus?” she whispered, wondering where this was going to lead.

“Milli.” He pulled her toward him. She felt the brush of his thigh against hers. Her heart reeled at his touch.

His finger traced her bottom lip, spinning her senses. “So very beautiful,” he said, his voice husky.

She breathed in the aroma of his cologne. He was so close. Her entire body trembled. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. At that moment, he was everything to her. Call her a fool, but she wanted this. Dreamed of this.

He dropped his lips to her neck, sending shivers of delight down her spine.

“Marcus.” She pressed her hands against his powerful chest, feeling the beating of his heart.

He moved his mouth to her cheek, then to her lips, capturing them in a mind numbing kiss, sending her to heaven and back. He tasted like a fine brandy, smooth and gentle. Desire shot through her, causing her knees to buckle. Eventually, she fell limp in his arms, burying her face in his neck, almost too shocked to speak.