lay in the dark, listening for the moment Joseph fell asleep. They had spoken only a few brutally polite words over the meal they had shared in the room. Milly had then removed her cloak and boots, and washed her hands and face.

She had taken the blankets from the bed and one pillow, and dropped them on the floor, then climbed on the mattress and draped her cloak over her. Sleep would come, because she had learned over the last few years to take it when she could, especially when she had first run from London.

Sneaking into her father’s office the night she left, Milly had taken what coins she could find, and left her father a note. She had told him she had overheard his conversation with that man, and would not be responsible for the death of her beloved. She had vowed he would never find her, and she never wanted to look upon his face again.

Her anger had aided her in leaving the house, and helped her through booking a seat on the first stage leaving London. Frightened, with only her maid at her side—who had told her she would never leave her, but did exactly that when Milly could no longer pay her—she had believed that what she was doing was her only course of action. Ignorant to the ways of the world, she had then embarked on the terrifying journey that had turned her into the woman she had become today.

“I am sorry your father passed away, my lord. He was a wonderful man.” Milly had wanted to say the words when she’d found out about the late earl’s death, but could not. Here in the dark, the anger had eased, and she felt the need to speak them. To let him know that she too had cared.

Joseph had loved his father deeply; his passing would have been a terrible time.

“Thank you. He was the very best of men, and we still miss him.”

Milly closed her eyes on the words.

“When did he pass?”

“Three weeks after you left London.”

And he hated her more for that. Because she had not been there at his side when he’d needed her most.

“I-I’m sorry.”

He did not speak again, and eventually she felt her eyelids droop, as sleep pulled her under and away from her thoughts.

 

“Come, Milly, it is only a dream. Wake up now.”

Milly woke suddenly. Opening her eyes, she saw Joseph leaning over her.

“Joseph?” She lifted a hand and touched his cheek. “What are you doing here?” She battled to wake fully, battled to wade through the nightmare she had been having and back to reality.

“I slept here.”

Dear Lord, she remembered then.

“I-I was dreaming.”

“Not a dream, a nightmare,” he rasped. “Your screams woke me as you tried to run from someone. Will you tell me who?”

“Him, the faceless one.”

She felt the bed dip as Joseph settled his hip on the edge.

“Faceless one?”

His hand held hers, and his thumb was making soothing circles on the top. It felt wonderful.

“The man my father owed money to sent men to find me. I escaped, and after that I was a great deal smarter.”

“I wish you had come to me, Milly.”

He was so close to her, all that wonderful strength just inches away.

“I could not do so. Would not put you or your family in danger.”

“I would have kept you safe.”

She looked up the face she’d once held so dear. He had once been everything to her.

“Joseph?”

“Yes.” He leaned over her, bracing a hand beside her head.

She touched the side of his face again. Cocooned in the dark, suddenly all her barriers had lowered. Joseph was here, and she had longed for him on so many lonely nights that she had lost count.

Arching toward him, she pressed her lips to his. Just a kiss, nothing more. She wanted another memory.

He held still as she kissed him, as if her touch had turned him to stone. But as she pulled away, his arms banded around her, pulling her to his chest. His lips then claimed hers and demanded a response that Milly was happy to give. She met his demands, and asked for more. The taste and scent of Joseph filled her head. The feel of his hair against her fingers made them tremble. She lost every rational thought but one, the need to be with this man.

“Milly.” He whispered her name against her lips.

Where one kiss finished, another started, and soon she could think of nothing but him, and the delicious feelings he was creating inside her.

His hands were on her body, moving up her ribs to her breasts. She felt them dip beneath the bodice to touch her. The feel of his fingers on her skin, so near the aching peak of her nipple, was exquisite. She needed more. Wanted him to assuage the ache that was growing inside her. The need for fulfilment rose with every touch. For so long she had been alone; now, here in this room, she wanted to feel a connection to this man. The man she had once loved.

She sighed as his lips moved to her neck, where he pressed hot kisses to her skin, then lower to trail across her chest. When he tugged her bodice down and took her breast in one large hand, she moaned.

He took her mouth again, teasing, tormenting, building the fire inside her. Milly reached for the buttons on his shirt, fumbling to free them. She managed three, and then slipped her hand inside to touch his chest. Roaming the planes of warm muscle, she traced a rib, and he shuddered.

“More,” Milly whispered. She needed this. Needed him to erase the dark that had filled her life for so long.

One hand moved to her legs, sliding beneath the hem of her skirts. She could feel the heat from his palm as it moved upward, and then he was there, touching the soft hair between her thighs, and lower. Stroking her secret places. Milly arched into his body as he ran a finger over the hard bud, and exquisite sensations shot through her. Then he placed his finger inside her, and she was beyond thought, could only feel. As he lavished attention on her breasts, circling and licking the nipple, his hands drove the ecstasy higher, until suddenly she shuddered, a cry torn from her lips as she shattered under his touch.

Milly heard the rasp of his harsh breath as he lifted his head.

“Joseph.” She reached out a hand to touch him, but a shout from the courtyard below the window startled them.

“Dear Lord, what are we doing!” His groan was savage. “Forgive me, I should not have done that.”

Milly felt his weight leave the bed, and suddenly she was alone again. Her body tingled and twitched as she grappled with what they had done. Moments later she heard the door shut, and knew she was alone.

She lay there, too stunned to move. How had that happened? It was as if a flame had ignited in them. Such passion had consumed her, such need had filled her, and she knew it had consumed him also.

“Dear Lord.” Milly rose to sit on the bed. She had allowed him liberties. No, she had wanted him to take liberties with her body. All but begged for them.

“How will I face him now?”

What must he think of her?

After a wash in icy water, she tidied herself and rebraided her hair. Donning her cloak, Milly then left the room. She could not hide from Joseph, so she would face him. She was good at hiding her feelings. If he did not speak of the incident that had just taken place, then neither would she.

He was eating when she arrived downstairs. His eyes followed her as she crossed the room and sat opposite him. Unsure when or where her next meal would come from, she ate, even though the food made her want to gag. When they were finished, he rose, so she followed. Minutes later they were on their way to London, Milly in the carriage alone, and Joseph seated on his horse.

 

They arrived in London early afternoon. Milly tried to stay calm as the carriage rolled through the narrow streets. Her eyes were everywhere, remembering, reliving memories. Had it really been four years since she was last here? It seemed a great deal more. So much had transpired. She had changed beyond recognition, and yet outside the window, very little had.

The Ellsworth town house was a large, elegant, white building, with towering columns and mullioned windows that climbed many stories, and was grand in every way. When they pulled up outside, Milly opened the door and stepped down. She had grown used to doing everything for herself, and saw no need for that to change now.

“Come.”

Milly looked at the eyes of the man who had given her her first taste of passion this morning, and found nothing in them but impassiveness, which suited her just fine. She may still feel unsettled from the incident on the inside, but she could portray a cool facade when required.

She climbed the stairs at his side, and the door had opened by the time they reached it.

“Good afternoon, my lord.”

“Good afternoon, Gilbert.”

Milly watched as Joseph handed over his hat and gloves.

“We will have a tray in my study, please. Tea for Lady Millicent, and brandy for me.”

Like any well-trained butler, the man did not blink at the mention of her name. Yet he would remember her, and that she was once to have wed his master. Milly knew the entire household would know that she was here in a short time.

The interior was as grand as the exterior, but she knew that, having visited here before. Everywhere she looked there were examples of wealth. The ceilings rose high above where she stood. Rich shades of emerald and ivory were on the walls, and framed with gold. Floors were waxed to a shine, and furniture polished to a sheen. It was as it had been before, magnificent on every scale.

“Give your cloak to Gilbert, my lady.”

“I will keep it on, thank you, my lord.”

He shot her a dark look at her refusal to obey his command, and then shrugged out of his coat. Milly dragged her eyes from his muscles as they bunched and released with movement. What had happened this morning had unsettled her hugely, but she could not let that show, and must keep her wits about her.

“Please follow me.”

She did as he asked silently, climbing the stairs behind his long angry strides, and went into the room he indicated.

“Please take a seat.” He motioned to the chair opposite his desk, and then Milly watched him take a key from his pocket, and unlock a drawer. He handed her a sheaf of papers.

“This is the note I took the liberty of reading.”

Milly removed her gloves and took the piece of paper.

I would beg that you forgive me, daughter, for what I did.

Twelve words. That was all her father had written to her after ruining her life. Twelve pathetic words. Her anger was too deep to forgive when all he could bother to write her was twelve words.

Placing the paper back on the desk with more care than was required, she then took the papers. Breaking her father’s seal, Milly began to read.

 

Joseph had watched as Milly read the note, and then placed it carefully back on his desk. It had held only one short sentence and was written in a frail hand. He saw by the tightening of Milly’s sweet lips that she was not impressed by her father’s words. And why should she be? The bastard had ruined her life.

“Will you leave me alone, please?”

“If that is your wish.”

She nodded. “It is.”

He could allow her that. Joseph rose and left the room to sit in a parlor two doors to the left, leaving the door wide open.

His butler entered and left a tray, and Joseph poured tea and ate a piece of cheese, then a wedge of cake, as he waited. He then repeated the process and waited some more.

That morning, he had woken to her cries. Heart pounding, he had hurried to her side, only to find Milly caught in a nightmare, body curled, fists clenched as she attempted to escape whatever hell her dreams had plunged her into. His intent only to wake her from the pain, he’d touched her. Rested his hip on the bed beside her as he held her hand. Then she had kissed him, and he’d lost all reason.

God, she’d been responsive, her body arching into his, her hands touching him, Joseph shuddered at the memory of her fingers tracing the contours of his chest. He’d been hard in seconds, aroused to the point of pain as he cupped a soft breast in his hand. When she’d cried out as he touched her intimately, he’d nearly lost all reason himself.

“What a mess.” Joseph exhaled loudly. So much unsaid between them and so many years of bitterness and lies, and now this. The lust, and passion. The need that was now harder to ignore. He could still taste her on his lips and hear her cries as she responded to him. His mate. The thought was dispelled as quickly as it came.

Too much has passed between us, Joseph reminded himself. Too much to be undone, surely.

When the clock on the wall beside the door ticked over forty minutes, he rose to his feet and went to join her. His study was empty; all that remained was a sheet of paper. Picking it up, he read her words.

It seems my father has left me a considerable sum of money, my lord. Thank you for bringing me to London. I shall now find my own way.

“What the hell does that mean?” Screwing the paper into his fist, he stormed out of the room and down the stairs. How dare she dismiss him!

“When did Lady Millicent leave, Gilbert?”

“As to that, my lord, I was unaware she had left.”

Cursing under his breath, he stepped outside and looked around. He saw nothing. Walking down the street, he searched. An hour later, he had not found her, and his temper was once again raging. Reentering his house, he thought about his options. Did he want to know where she’d gone? Yes! The word was loud inside his head.

How could he in good conscience let her roam the streets of London with no money, friends, or place to sleep? He had to find her. He retreated to his study and tried to think as she would, tried to understand how her mind now worked.

 

“I passed by on the off chance you had arrived.”

Joseph watched his sister breeze into the room an hour later. Eleanor was four years his junior and looked the image of their mother, pretty with black curls and soft brown eyes. She was vivacious and full of life. Married to a man she loved desperately, she had never been happier.

“I have found Millicent.”

Her steps faltered before she reached him. He took the hand she held out to him.

“What has that cow done now! How dare she reappear!”

Her anger was a wonderful sight, and had always made him smile, especially when it was in protection of him.

“Sit, Ellie, and I will explain.”

He told her that Milly had not left him for another man, but for reasons that he could not go into, but that there had been danger to him if she stayed in London. His sister was not one to do anything quietly, and promptly burst into noisy tears.

“Oh, I feel so terrible. How could I have doubted her for so long? I am truly a bad person!”

“No you’re not, so stop the theatrics right now, and help me work out where she has gone to.”

“You still care for her?”

Did he? Poking around inside his chest, he didn’t believe he did. But there was something there, now that the anger had eased and been replaced with worry. Passion, yes, but also something like respect for her survival, and a need to know what course her life had taken in the last four years. God, all this emotion was exhausting. For so long he’d shut it away, but it felt as if since Milly had reentered his life she’d sliced open a vein and emotion was pouring out.

“She is at present walking about London in your blue velvet cloak, with no bonnet, and at a guess, no money,” he said, instead of answering her question.

“My cloak?” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh indeed, is that where I left it? But it matters not, what matters is that we find her.”

Unlike him, Ellie would harbor no ill will toward Milly. She could forgive with ease; it was her way.

His anger, he now realized, stemmed more from the fact that she’d had no need to take the course of action she had. He would have taken steps to help Milly if only she had come to him instead of fleeing. She should have trusted him to keep her safe.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Where is she?” Ellie snapped.

“That is what I’m trying to work out!” he snapped back. “After reading the papers her father left for her, she fled... again.”

She fell silent, brows lowered, frowning as she thought.

“The lawyer. Surely she has gone there? Her father’s lawyers would be the logical first step?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and now wondered why he hadn’t.

“It is a good place to start,” he conceded.

“It’s a bloody brilliant place to start, you mean.” She regained her feet and gave him a cheeky smile. “And you are merely annoyed that I thought of it before you.”

“Such a humble creature you are, little sister. I’m sure your husband would be displeased to hear you swearing like a sailor,” he said, nudging her through the door.

“Oh, pooh to that. Louis is far worse than I. Don’t you want your coat, hat, and gloves?” she questioned him, and it was then he realized he’d just walked about for an hour without them. Ignoring her smug look, he returned to his house to shrug into his coat, and grab his hat and gloves. Looking at the darkening skies, he hoped they found Milly soon.

 

Milly’s head had been whirling as she left Joseph’s house. Her father had left her money. She had money... a great deal of it.

Pulling up the hood of the cloak so no one could see her face, she had walked aimlessly for a while, until she could at least find a rational thought inside her head.

For so long her course had been to stay out of sight, find work, and simply exist, but now everything had changed. If, as Joseph suspected, the danger no longer existed due to her father’s death, then was she free to live the life she chose?

“Dear God, is it possible?” she whispered.

Looking at the sheaf of papers still clutched in her hand, she saw the name of her father’s lawyers on the top piece. Surely that was a good place to start?

She had some coins in her purse that the Wimplestow family had given her, so she would use those to get a hackney there. She soon flagged one down.

“Where would you like to go, madam?”

“Well as to that, sir, I know the name but not the address.”

“What’s the name?”

The man wore a cap low over his eyes, and a thick scarf pulled up to his ears to ward off the cold.

“Harby, Newman, and Stathe. They are lawyers, sir.”

The man thought about that.

“I think their rooms are in Bell’s Court, madam. Shall we try there first?”

Milly fished out her coins and handed them to him.

“Take me as far as these go, please.”

“Right, they’ll get you there and back again, should you wish it.”

“Thank you.”

The drive was not a long one, and Milly once again grappled with her change in circumstance and what this meant for her. What did she want to do with this sudden wealth that she had acquired?

“I want a home,” she whispered. “A warm one, with plenty of food.” For the first time since leaving the Wimplestow family, she smiled.

The offices of Harby, Newman, and Stathe were indeed in Bell’s Court. She gave the name of Lady Millicent Lawrence to the clerk, and was asked to wait while he went to tell someone she was here.

“Lady Millicent!”

A tall, immaculately dressed man appeared suddenly before her. He wore small round spectacles and had a wide smile on his face.

“My name is Mr. Harby, and how I had hoped this day would eventually come!”

The man rushed forward and took her hand. Squeezing it, he urged her to follow him into an office.

“Your father told me to expect that one day you would arrive in my offices. I am pleased today is that day!”

“Ah... yes, I see. But how is it that I have this money, when I know there is a distant cousin somewhere who has inherited my father’s title?”

“Your father made a special provision for you before he died. The new Marquess has considerable wealth, and had no wish to contest your portion. He is a man who is used to frugal means, and lives in the country with his wife and children.”

Milly nodded, trying to take in this news.

“Indeed, he was most adamant that should you come to me, I direct you to him, should you wish to meet with him and his family, that is.”

She had a distant cousin who actually wanted to know her. Milly wasn’t sure she could take much more in. Her head felt ready to explode.

Mr. Harby then discussed at length just how much money her father had put aside for her.

“It was his wish that when you returned you have sufficient funds to keep you in comfort.”

“But he had no money, Mr. Harby.”

“Yes, that was the case. But three years ago he made several wise investments that changed his financial situation, Lady Millicent.”

Milly thought she nodded, but couldn’t be certain. She could still not quite believe that her father had provided for her.

“You are free to purchase what you wish, my lady, as I am sure Lord Ellsworth will have no issue signing—”

“Pardon?” Milly snapped out of her thoughts at the mention of Joseph’s name.

The smile fell from Mr. Harby’s lips as he noted her frown.

“Yes, well, the late Marquess wanted to ensure you did not make any rash decisions with the money. Therefore, the earl is to oversee—”

“The same earl I was once betrothed to?” Milly could not take it in. Surely her father had not made such a stipulation.

“I did point this out to your father, and indeed said it was highly irregular to make this stipulation, but he was quite firm in his wishes.”

Mr. Harby did not look happy now. In fact, he looked close to tears.

“So I can do nothing without the earl’s approval?” Milly kept her voice calm and did not scream like she wished to; after all, it was not this poor man’s fault, no matter how much she wanted it to be.

“Yes, that is the case.”

“God’s blood.” Milly could not hold back. “He ruins my life, and then proceeds to dictate to me from the grave! You will excuse me, Mr. Harby, but I need to digest this information. I shall return soon.”

She walked from the office, then through the small reception and out the door. She inhaled a deep breath of cold air once she had stepped outside. Her happiness had once again been ripped away by that man.

How dared he do this to her, and with Joseph of all people.

“Millicent?”

She saw them then, Joseph and Eleanor, walking toward her. He dark and far too bloody handsome, she more delicate, her coloring softer, and so pretty. She fought back the leap of joy she felt at seeing her old friend.

Milly bobbed into a curtsy. “Forgive me, I do not know your title.”

“But I am Ellie.”

“Of course. Y-you look well.”

“I am married now.”

“Yes,” Milly nodded. Where once she could have told this woman anything, she now felt awkward, with nothing to say. Ellie closed the distance between them once more, and took the hand she had pressed to her chest.

“Joseph has told me that you did not leave London for another man but—”

“You had no right.” She looked at the tall, silent man who stood at his sister’s back.

“Eleanor deserved to know some of the truth, Milly. She was your friend. But I did not tell her all of it.”

“It matters not,” she said quickly. “What matters is that my father hated me enough that he placed your name as the one to oversee my money. I cannot now spend any of it without your authority.”

His surprise was evident. So he had not known. She felt a small measure of relief.

“Why would he do that?” Joseph said.

“Control? A last laugh on his silly daughter? It matters not. What matters is that I wish to have money for things, and have no wish to fight with you over every detail.”

His face was expressionless as he stood there watching her once again unravel. It was so bloody unfair! She doubted he’d ever been anything but together, his entire life.

“Well, unless you wish to purchase a brothel, I will cause you no problems.”

“I should purchase a brothel to spite him,” Milly said.

“Yet you will not, but I’m sure you have a wish to do something.”

She looked at Joseph, standing large and steady behind his sister. Eleanor had never known fear, never known hunger or real cold, the kind that seeped into your bones and never let go. He would ensure that for his sister and brothers, as he once would have done for her. But no longer. Milly saw to her own needs now, and wished it no other way.