Page 43 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
Even Drake, with his limited knowledge of female warfare, knew a gauntlet had been thrown. Nora was waging her own battle, and terms of endearment were not her weapon of choice.
Millicent lifted a brow several shades darker than her fiery hair. ‘Don’t feel bad, Nora. Not everyone is as courageous as I am. For example, I would never let fear of competition ever stop me from claiming what I want.’ Millicent turned to Drake and gave him a dazzling smile. Whether her implied declaration of desire was real or simply a reflection of her competitive nature, the flutter in his heart turned into an alarming thunder. ‘Ah, here comes Lord St George.’ Millicent let go of Drake and stepped away from Nora and Godric. ‘Coming, darling?’ She was making it clear. Drake had a choice. He could stay with his brother and sister-in-law, or he could follow her.
Billy was right. She is a corker.
Despite his determination to maintain distance from the woman destroying any hopes of maintaining control, he had no intention of choosing his despised family over his desirable bride.
Drake took two long strides to reclaim his position by her side, recapturing her hand and tucking it in the crook of his arm.
‘Lead on, my lady.’
This was proving to be a most interesting wedding party.
Millie found Drake’s reaction to Nora interesting in the extreme. But she had no time to think on the deeper meaning of his choice to join her instead of remaining with his first love. She thought she had successfully cleared the biggest hurdle of her day when Drake joined her side, but she was wrong.
At least I’m used to being wrong.
One thing was certain. She did not like Elnora Drake. Clearly, the petite, beautiful, awful woman was rethinking her choice of spouse. And who wouldn’t when comparing Drake and Godric?
Nitwit of a woman.
Nora must have been devastated when Drake survived his imprisonment, and she lost her chance at his title.
Nitwit and a ninny.
Even if Drake had no title and Godric was the bloody King of England, Millie would rather spend her days with an impoverished, dangerous, decidedly devilish man than the bowl of pudding parading around in hideous pants and a canary-yellow waistcoat.
Before she could congratulate herself on being a far smarter woman than Drake’s first love,herfirst love rolled up and ruined everything. Per usual.
Franklin St George, Baron de Borogue, strode forward after stepping out of his carriage, leaving his poor wife to descend alone. Thankfully, the footman assisted her.
Millie tried to imagine Franklin St George drugging a young woman and then nailing her into a coffin to be shipped across the Channel and sold into sex slavery in France. Not a difficult image to conjure, actually. Her stomach rolled, nausea blooming.
‘Major General Drake! Wonderful to see you again. Victoria and I were thrilled to receive an invitation from one of my oldest family friends.’
Lord Franklin St George always had a weak chin. It was something Millie noticed even at the height of her fascination with him. Now, years later, his chin had not improved. He did have lovely, clear grey eyes, but the glint of malice in them ruined the colour completely.
Franklin glanced behind him at his wife. ‘Do hurry up, dear. I’m sure Major General Drake has more important things to do than wait for you to shake out your skirts.’
Victoria was a small, plump woman with strawberry-blonde hair. She wasn’t so much shaking out her skirts as trying to disentangle the lace from where it caught on the carriage step.
‘May I assist you, madame?’ Drake strode over, his black Hessians chewing up the distance easily. He bent over to pull Victoria’s skirt free, and Millie fought the urge to ogle his well-shaped bottom.
Stay focused!
Victoria fluttered her hand over her chest as Drake offered his arm to escort her to her husband. She had large eyes usually focused on her feet, a slight lisp, and her complexion was prone to splotch when she was embarrassed. As it was doing now. She sent her husband a wide-eyed glance as if seeking his approval to take Drake’s arm.
Dear Lord. She has no backbone at all. I’m sure Franklin walks all over her. Or worse.
Millie knew Victoria from their first season together. Millie and her best friend Ivy Cavendale both preferred to decorate the walls rather than parade on the dance floor. They struck up a friendship with Victoria, sensing she was of a similar ilk until the debacle with Franklin St George. Once he made his rejection of Millie clear and set his cap for Victoria, Millie hadn’t felt quite sofriendly toward the girl. Which was stupid. She doubted Victoria had any choice in the marriage. And it certainly wasn’t Victoria’s fault Franklin abandoned Millie as soon as he dipped his wick and collected his money.
All the rumours pointed to Victoria’s father being quite the dictator. Then Franklin had stepped in. Millie presumed he picked up where Victoria’s father left off. The poor woman stopped attending events and was only seen at the largest balls, clinging to her husband’s arm despite his obvious attempts to ignore her.
What did I ever see in this man? And why on earth did I care so much about his opinion of me? Perhaps I’m just as big of a ninny nitwit as Nora.
Nora and Godric joined them then. Nora stood far too close to Drake and kept sending him looks that Drake completely missed. Or ignored.
Perhaps not.
