“I’m ready, Lord Roland,” she said to Charles.
“Ready for what?” Millicent asked him.
Charles answered with the most bizarre reply. “Millicent, you are departing Roland immediately, and Peggy will accompany you.”
“I’m not leaving.” She laughed as if it was a horrid joke.
“I’ve rented a room for you at the coaching inn outside the village. You’ll stay there while I write to your brother and schedule your journey to his estate.”
“Don’t be silly. I won’t tarry at a coaching inn. I’m not going to my brother’s.”
She was very firm, but he ignored her and continued. “If he won’t consent to your return, I will rent you lodging in town. However, your circumstances will be quite reduced, so let’s hope he’s amenable.”
Millicent’s wary gaze shifted from Charles to Peggy, and she asked, “Why is Peggy here?”
“The butler informs me that you and Peggy have become great chums recently, so she’s the perfect servant to tend you as you transition into the next phase of your life.”
Millicent bristled. “Are you mad? She’s lazy and incompetent.”
“Yes, she is, and she’s also a tattle. She was observed chatting with a newspaper reporter out on the lane. I can’t imagine why she’d have been talking to him. Can you?”
Millicent swung to Peggy and fumed, “You shared our private business with a reporter? What is wrong with you?”
Peggy stared back, looking bored, and Charles said, “She’ll accompany you because—if she remains at Roland—she’ll be fired.”
“So fire her,” Millicent said. “It’s fine with me.”
“Instead of being terminated, she’s agreed to this arrangement. I won’t supply you with any other staff from the manor, so it’s her or no one.”
“I pick no one!” Millicent seethed.
Charles said to Peggy, “Miss Pendleton doesn’t need your help, so you may take your things and go.”
The girl didn’t have the good sense to be silent. “It was all Miss Pendleton’s fault. She stirred the trouble for Miss Carstairs. Not me, and I’ve never gossiped about you.” Then she had the audacity to inquire, “Will you pen a reference for me?”
Charles scoffed. “No, now get out of my sight or I may lose my temper.”
Peggy hesitated for a second, then spun and stomped out. The butler was there to lead her away.
Their strides faded, and a dangerous calm settled in. She and Charles were standing very close, and she peered up at him, searching for some hint of affection or sympathy, but he glared coldly—as if he didn’t know who she was.
“Don’t treat me like this, Charles,” she begged. “Please don’t. I’ve always loved you!”
“Well, I have never loved you, and you have to go too. A carriage is waiting out in the drive. You’ll be conveyed to the coaching inn, and I’ll contact you in a few days, after I’ve heard from your brother.”
“Charles! Stop it.”
She would have fallen to her knees to beg him again, but he’d had enough. He seized her arm and marched her out, and she was so stunned she didn’t have the mental wherewithal to protest or even drag her feet.
They passed numerous servants, and they gaped at her, their expressions condemning. Were they all aware of what she’d done to Miss Carstairs? They were servants! Why would they have the gall to revile Millicent over any issue?
Charles kept on until they were outside and down in the driveway. As they approached the carriage, a footman whisked the door open. She didn’t move toward the vehicle, so Charles simply lifted her in and shut the door behind her. She would have grabbed the latch and jumped out, but before she could gather her wits, the driver cracked the whip and the coach lurched away so rapidly she was flung off the seat.
She grappled for purchase and righted herself, so she barely managed a final glimpse of the manor as it was swallowed up by the trees. Charles was watching her depart, looking cool and placid, as if nothing egregious had occurred.
The traitorous shrew, Peggy, was walking down the lane, her portmanteau banging on her hip. She didn’t glance up, didn’t step out of the way, and they skirted around her without slowing.
Millicent sagged against the cushion, wishing she was dead.
“Don’t make a sound.”
At the whispered warning, Penny awoke from a deep sleep. A hand was clamped over her mouth, and a large man was pressing her down. Her fear cleared quickly as she realized it was Simon.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Late.”
“How did you sneak into the house?”
“I found a window that wasn’t latched. Your servants should be more careful.”
“Your reply has me worrying that you possess criminal tendencies.”
“I absolutely have them. My father, Harry, taught me all his best—or worst—habits, depending on your viewpoint. I can pick a lock or pick a pocket or swindle an unsuspecting dunce out of his money. If shady conduct is required, I’m the fellow for the job.”
He was perched on the edge of the mattress, and she pulled him down so he was stretched out beside her. He kissed her fiercely, and as he drew away, they both sighed.
“You’ve been gone for ages,” she said. “What have you been doing?”
“First, I went to London to bail Libby and Fish out of jail, only to learn that no bail was being allowed.”
“Who ordered that?”
“Originally, we assumed it was your father, but it turned out to be your aunt.”
“You won’t believe what happened to her.”
“Ooh, I hope it was horrid. Is there a torturer’s rack in the basement?”
“By her standards, it was just that bad. Father kicked her out of Roland and sent her to live with her brother.”
He grinned and facetiously asked, “Are you missing her?”
“Don’t be daft. I never liked her, and I’m so glad to be shed of her.” She snuggled nearer and asked, “What else have you been doing?”
While he’d been gamboling in the city, she’d been awash with jealousy. She’d spent every minute contemplating the beautiful girls who might
