“ up, my darling, I am here with you.”

They were entering the theatre, and Milly’s stomach was fluttering as she took in the colorful guests in the foyer.

“I should not have let you persuade me.”

“But you love the opera, darling, and look beautiful. I must say, you have also perfected that bored expression on your face. Another thing that has changed over the last four years.”

“Pardon?” Milly dragged her eyes from a gaggle of women who were all chirping like a nest of chicks and trying not to look at her.

“You have changed a great deal, Millicent. Before, you could not hide your expressions. Now, I rarely see them.”

“Oh well... yes” was all Milly came up with by way of an answer. She had changed; who would not in her circumstances?

“Good evening, Lady Mowbray.”

A elegantly dressed couple had approached. Milly searched her memory for their names.

“You remember my niece, my lord. My dear, let me introduce you to Lord and Lady Pembroke.”

The man bowed deeply as the lady curtsied. Milly responded.

“Good evening,” she said, forcing a polite smile onto her lips.

“I am glad your health has improved, Lady Millicent. We are pleased to have you back among us.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

They chatted briefly about nothing, and it was all commonplace and polite, and then they left.

“There now, that was not so bad.”

“No, it was not.” Milly sighed. However, she hated the lies she must tell, and be forced to live. Another black mark on her father’s soul.

The real problem was that she just wasn’t sure she wanted to bother with this charade anymore. The need to see and be seen. The rules that governed her every move. The people who seemed polite to her face, but would not be so behind her back.

“Come, we shall go and find the Ellsworth box now.”

She placed her hand through her aunt’s arm and followed. It was as they approached the stairs that she felt someone looking at her. Searching, she found a man some distance away. Tall, with gray hair, his eyes were focused intently on her. Dragging hers away, she continued on.

There was something unsettling about that look. Something dark and menacing. Shaking the thought aside, Milly realized that entering society once more was more unsettling than she had thought it would be, if a strange man’s eyes upset her.

“Ah, here we are. Good evening to you all.”

As her aunt greeted the inhabitants of Lord Ellsworth’s box, Milly stood to one side. She saw his brothers, Mr. Haddon and Mr. Charles Haddon. And Lord and Lady Thurston, and of course Joseph.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“My lord.” She dipped into a curtsy when Joseph greeted her.

“You look beautiful.”

His words had not been spoken loudly, and she doubted any but Milly heard them. Simple, often-spoken words, and yet when delivered by him, in that deep voice, they made her shiver.

“Thank you. You also.”

He wore a black jacket across his broad shoulders, and his waistcoat was black and silver. Every inch the earl, she thought.

“Do you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful before.” He smiled at her.

“There is always a first time for most things, my lord,” Milly replied as she moved on to greet his family.

She had always liked his brothers. They laughed and joked, but the love the four siblings shared was never in doubt.

“How lovely it is to see you again,” Charles said.

“Yes, I remember now, you sat on my sofa just last week and drank tea, didn’t you, sir?”

“I did.” He gave her a wide smile. “And may I say, your cook’s cherry cake is unsurpassed.”

“I shall be sure to tell her.”

“You told Lord Coombs his cook’s cherry cake was the best last week,” his brother said.

“And they are off,” Eleanor said, coming forward. “They will now argue until the opera begins.”

“Good evening, my lady.”

“My name is Ellie, Millicent. Please use it.” She looked beautiful in a dress of deep gold.

“I shall try. But please, call me Milly. I find I am no longer a Millicent.”

Ellie patted her hand. “I like Milly. And now you must meet my husband. Louis, this is Lady Millicent.”

“My lady.”

Tall and well-built, Lord Thurston had a lovely smile, and hair the color of dried oak leaves. Not quite red, and not quite brown, but somewhere in between.

“It is a delight to meet you at last.”

“Thank you.”

The smile he gave her was genuine, and the one he turned on his wife loving. She felt a small twinge of jealousy that she would never receive smiles like that from the man she loved.

Milly had come to realize that she no longer wished to have someone control her or tell her what she could or could not do. Freedom was not something anyone really ever had, but there were degrees of it, she had come to understand. Small allotments of freedom, such as eating what she liked when she liked. Spending all day reading should she chose to, and travelling the country if the need struck. She’d never hoped to have this, but now she did, she had no wish to relinquish it.

They soon took their seats, and Milly wasn’t sure if it was by design or chance that she was seated beside Joseph.

“My family, and your aunt, think it would be best if we sat together, to show people that there is no ill will between us.” His breath brushed her cheek.

“Oh, yes, I had not thought of that.”

“Do you know, I think those cheek rolls enhanced your features.”

Milly actually spluttered at his words.

“No really, and the glasses, and mud-brown hair. It was a pleasing look. This”—he let his eyes roam from her face down to her slippers and back up again—“is not nearly as appealing.”

“Ha” was all she could manage, as the heat from his gaze was making her tingle all over.

“Very eloquent.”

“If you’ll remember, along with cursing, I now also add pig wrangling to my repertoire. I have had little time in the last few years to be eloquent.”

“I shall keep that in mind if I need my pigs wrangled.”

He was teasing her, and she felt that silly fluttering inside her that she once had. Looking forward, she reminded herself she no longer wanted that, or indeed him.

“Don’t look now, my lord, but every opera glass is now trained upon us,” Milly said, catching the glint of glasses.

“Shall we give them something to talk about, then?”

Before she could stop him, he had taken her hand and kissed the back.

“By jove, did you see that! The Duchess of Chantry just about fell out of her box!”

Milly hid her smile at Charles’s words.

 

She was exquisite, every inch perfection, and Joseph wanted to place his lips on the soft, sweet-smelling skin of her neck.

Milly had walked into his box, and he’d been spellbound. Her dress was colored somewhere between cream and apricot, the perfect complement to her blonde hair and lovely skin. It clung to the sweet curves of her body, and made his collar feel tight.

Her hair was piled high and the curls pinned into place. She wore a simple satin of small flowers the same color as her dress tied around her head, and the effect was stunning in its simplicity.

“You liked the opera four years ago. Do you still?”

She sat at his side, hands crossed in her lap, eyes forward. To anyone looking, she would appear relaxed, yet he knew her well enough to see that was not the case. Coming here was not easy for her. Being the center of attention had once been something she enjoyed, but he could see that was no longer the case.

“I am yet to determine that, my lord.”

He’d noticed that about her too; she no longer spoke in carrying tones.

“What entertainments did you enjoy while you were gone?” He would take any opportunity to find out what her life had been like.

“I once saw a travelling theatre company perform a terrible rendition of Twelfth Night in a field near the village of Dainty. I sat on my lump of hay with great expectation of an entertaining evening. Alas, it was not to be.”

She’d sat on a lump of hay while he’d sat in his box, here at the theatre. With a full belly and warm bed waiting for him. The thought made him angry.

“I hope it did not rain.” He managed to get out in a reasonable tone.

“No indeed, it was a clear night, if a little cold. But I must own that I have never enjoyed an experience more.”

He looked at her, but her eyes were facing forward.

“I believe you said it was a terrible rendition.”

She looked at him briefly, and he saw something pass across her face. Laughter, fear, or sadness, he could not discern what.

“Oh it was, but there is something special about sitting outside on a starlit night, eating roasted chestnuts with people whose only expectation in life is to rise in the morning healthy and whole.”

Joseph made himself look around the primped and pampered guests, and suddenly he knew exactly what she meant.

“We believe ours is a privileged life, and in many ways it is....”

“But in so many ways it is not,” she finished softly.

He did not answer as he did not know what to say. So instead he sat by her side in silence as the opera began.

She sat completely still and took everything in. It was as if this were her first visit. For Joseph’s part, he tried to not watch her, and for the most he succeeded.

When intermission came, his family rose, as did Milly.

“Come, we will walk,” Ellie said, taking her husband’s arm.

The others followed. Rory took Milly’s arm and Joseph her aunt’s.

“Thank you, my lord, for inviting us tonight. It will go a long way toward soothing her nerves about entering society.”

“She has no wish to do so, as I understand it, Lady Mowbray?”

“No, she has no time for society anymore. She will do so for me, but it no longer brings her the joy it once did.”

“She is different in many ways from the woman I once knew,” Joseph said, deciding he had no scruples about discussing Milly with her aunt if it yielded answers.

“Vastly different. I know she has furnished me with an abbreviated version of her reasons for leaving, as did her father. I also know nothing of the years she was gone, although there are times she appears like a caged animal. Restless and ready to run should the opportunity present itself.”

“It will take time,” Joseph said, watching Milly chat with his family.

“I’m not sure she will ever truly be settled. But it’s my hope that she will find a comfortable compromise.”

Joseph didn’t think there was ever going to be a time when he felt comfortable around Milly. She made him aware of her every move, her every word.

“Please excuse me for a moment, Lord Ellsworth, I see a friend who is signaling me.”

“Of course.” As Joseph watched Lady Mowbray walk away, his thoughts were on her niece.

“Lord Ellsworth, how wonderful to see you here this evening. What an extraordinary performance we are being treated to thus far.”

Joseph greeted Mrs. Gillies and her daughter.

“Indeed.”

His eyes found Milly now surrounded by a group of ladies. Rory, he noted, had been cornered by two men. Was she all right?

“My lord, do tell me how dear Lady Millicent is faring, now she is back in society? We did wonder... she has been gone so long, and the rumors, you know....”

“She has been unwell.”

“For four years? One wonders what illness could have taken so long.”

“She has been recuperating.” Joseph wasn’t sure why he was defending her, or why he cared what this woman or anyone thought about Milly, but he was... he did.

The woman made a little mewling sound that made Joseph’s teeth snap together.

“Well, perhaps your broken engagement is for the best then, my lord. Such weakness would surely carry to your heirs.”

“Excuse me. It is time to return to our seats.” He bowed, and walked away, uncaring that his words had been clipped and rude. He made his way to where Milly stood, and it was only as he drew near he realized that it was Lady Lyon and her daughter she spoke with.

“But four years, Lady Millicent. What illness could possibly have kept you from us for so long? Of course, it was for the best your betrothal was broken. A man like the earl cannot be expected to wait.”

He reached them as Milly answered.

“It was an illness of the brain, my lady. I was quite mad for some time. Yes indeed, I drooled and rocked for days on end. The doctors feared the worst, but as you can see there are no lasting effects... although, every now and then—”

“Excellent.” Joseph interrupted Milly before she could get into details of her illness. “I found you, my lady. Come, we must return, as the intermission is over,” Joseph said, taking Milly’s arm in his and leading her away from the now pale-faced Lyon women.

“Breathe,” he said, and was rewarded by a slow drawing in of air, which Milly then exhaled. He shot her a look as they approached his box. Her face was calm, impassive, but her hands were clenched into fists.

“What did she say to upset you?”

“It matters not.”

“It matters to me.”

She removed her hand from his arm and entered the box before him, leaving Joseph to follow and wonder what the hell was said to her that had drained the color from her cheeks and left her hands shaking.

 

Milly got through the performance by smiling. It was not easy, and by the end her cheeks were hurting. Joseph had sat quietly at her side, his gaze alternating between the performance and her. She had never looked his way once.

Eager to leave, she took her aunt’s arm when the curtain fell.

“Come, Aunt, I am not used to these late hours. We shall leave.”

“Of course.”

She said goodbye to everyone. Joseph was the last person, as he stood beside the door to the box.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“Good evening, my lord. Thank you for inviting us to share your box.” Milly did not meet his eyes.

“The pleasure was mine. I hope you did not find the gossip at intermission too taxing.”

“No indeed.” Milly made herself look at him. “Enlightening is what I would term it.”

She passed him with her aunt, and they made their way out behind the other guests. The queues for carriages meant their wait would not be a short one.

“Stay here, Aunt, and I shall see how far away the carriage is.”

“It will come, Millicent.”

“I don’t want to wait,” she said, making her way down the steps. Walking along the row, she saw hers in the distance. The walk would not be taxing on Aunt Beth, but perhaps it would be best to give it a bit longer, until the carriage drew closer.

“Pssst!”

Searching for whoever had made that sound, Milly saw a young boy in the shadows.

“What is amiss, boy?”

“Me ma, she’s hurt bad.”

“What has happened?”

“She fell. There’s an awful lot of blood.”

Milly moved closer.

“Where is your mother?”

“Just down there.” He pointed to an opening between two buildings. It was dark, and Milly was no fool. Something did not feel right.

“I will get someone to help me and return.”

The boy darted out of the shadows and grabbed her, followed by two more, and they had her arms in seconds.

“Unhand me!” she screamed, as there were plenty of people about. Surely someone would come to her aid? Milly fought them as they dragged her toward the opening. They nearly had her there when she heard footsteps.

“Release her!”

They did, and she fell backward, landing on her bottom.

“Milly, are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Hands helped her to her feet.

“What happened?”

“I was looking for our carriage, and a boy called to me.”

Joseph was looking from Milly to the opening and back again. The boys would be long gone by now, and she had no wish for him to chase them and get hurt.

“They have gone now.”

“What did he say to you?

“That his mother was hurt, and would I help her.”

“Firstly, what possessed you to go looking for your carriage, and secondly, tell me you did not actually do as the boy asked?” His tone was curt, anger snapping on each word.

“I am quite capable of collecting my own carriage, and no, contrary to what you believe of my intelligence, I was not about to do what the boy asked. I said I would get help, and th-they grabbed me.”

“Had you stayed with your aunt, this would not have happened.”

“I am no longer a woman who takes orders from you, nor some meek and mild miss, Lord Ellsworth. Therefore, I suggest if you wish for one, you go and see your fiancée!”

Milly walked around him then, and back to where her aunt waited. She said nothing about the incident, not wishing to upset her. But it unsettled her. Why had that boy called to her, of all people?