Page 45 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
‘We cannot afford to lose focus, Millicent. We are dealing with dangerous men who won’t hesitate to remove any impediment to their plans. Do not let your concentration be broken by something as ridiculous as a well-made man.’
Sage advice. ‘Of course. Yes. I am completely focused on this mission. I swear it.’
Philippa nodded, her hand stilling. ‘I mentioned your progress to the Queen. She is impressed with your natural skills, as am I. This is a wonderful opportunity for you, Millicent. Don’t waste it.’
Millie nodded. ‘Of course.’ But her heart beat in rebellion. She had never been good at following orders. Even those delivered by someone who had her best interests at heart.
‘Watch St George. Get close. See if he reveals any secrets. But remember, if we must engage the enemy, I will take care of him.’ Philippa’s jaw hardened, and her eyes flashed like steel in the sunlight. For a moment, Millie almost felt sorry for St George. Almost.
‘I won’t let you down, Philippa.’
‘I know. You are fearless. You remind me of someone I once knew.’ Turning back to the rose, Philippa leaned down and inhaled deeply. ‘Roses were her favourite, you know.’
Millie quirked a brow. Philippa never spoke about her personal life. ‘Whose favourite?’
‘Someone very dear to me from long ago.’
Desperate for Philippa to share more, Millie chose her words carefully. ‘Where is she now?’
Philippa was silent for several breaths. She turned her head, so the petals brushed against her cheek. ‘Gone. Forever.’ Her low voice broke, the only indication of her emotions, but enough to make Millie’s heart ache for her mentor.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘As am I.’ Philippa straightened, clearing any emotion from her face. ‘We should return to the group. The investigation is afoot, Millicent. Stay alert. Keep those knives on you. Don’t die. Understand?’
It was hardly a declaration of affection, but Millie felt the warmth of Philippa’s friendship all the same. ‘I will. I will. And I won’t.’
‘Good. Now, let’s see if we can use Franklin St George’s false sense of security against him. One thing is certain. He’ll never suspect you. That is a powerful advantage. One Major General Drake cannot attain.’ Philippa winked at Millie, then lifted her skirts, leading the way back down the path to exit the greenhouse.
Just thinking about engaging Franklin St George in anything outside of a bout of fisticuffs left Millie cold as she redonned her coat. But this was why Philippa needed her. Millie’s history with St George – and his belief she was a trifle he could seduce or ignore at will – did give her a certain advantage.
Exhaling a long breath, she squared her shoulders and renewed her determination to use her past with St George to aid their mission as they made their way through the frozen gardens to the house.
Philippa was prepared to cause him bodily harm. Surely, Millie could endure a few hours of false pleasantries while engaging the horrid man in conversation and hoping he let something slip. Something more helpful than his blatantly wandering gaze as it roved over her breasts when she re-entered the drawing room.
Her stomach rolled like a ship at sea, threatening to heave up her late breakfast. She put her hand to her mouth and realised she still wore her gloves.
‘Drat! I need to return these to my room. I shan’t be long.’ Millie left Philippa at the foot of the stairs and ran up to herroom to deposit her gloves and coat, promising to re-join the party in a trice.
‘Stiff upper lip, Millicent. Think of the Queen. It’s only a few hours, after all,’ she whispered to herself as she climbed the stairs. But when she pushed open the door to her bedroom, something felt wrong. Someone had been there. She had left a brush on her vanity that was now under the chair. The covers of her bed were rumpled, and one of the nightstand drawers was left ajar.
Millie’s skin pricked with alarm. She looked around her room, terrified the intruder might still be hiding somewhere. After checking under the bed, behind the drapes, in her dressing room and study, the mysterious snooper was either gone or able to contort himself into the smallest of hiding places.
‘What in the Devil?’ She opened her drawers, but nothing seemed amiss, though it was clear her writing pen had been moved, her papers were shuffled, and one of her favourite books had a small tear on the cover.
Millie shook her head, walked out of her room, and firmly shut the door. ‘Strange,’ she muttered to herself before descending to the main floor. She was still puzzling about her room when she crashed into Franklin St George. He caught her, but as she stepped back, Franklin refused to loosen his grip around her waist.
‘I’m so sorry, Franklin. I didn’t see you there. I must have been wool-gathering.’ She tried to step away again, but instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer. She could smell his aftershave, a pungent blend of patchouli and pine. Crinkling her nose, she tried to breathe through her mouth. ‘What are you?—’
Franklin swooped in and pressed his wet lips against hers before Millie could squirm away. The shock gave her a kick of adrenaline, and she shoved against his chest, twisting her head to break their kiss.
‘What the blazes?’ she hissed, wiping her mouth with her hand.
‘Don’t try to deny it, Millicent.’ Franklin’s eyes were crazed, his colour high. ‘I knew from the moment I arrived.’
Millie’s brow drew down. ‘Knew what?’
‘You still want me.’ Franklin smiled triumphantly. His chin almost completely dissolved into his neck as he nodded at her. ‘Who would blame you when facing a lifetime looking at Drake’s hideous face? I can see how your body reacts to my presence. Stop resisting. Even married women can have dalliances if they remain discreet.’ He tilted his chin and looked down his nose at her. ‘You’re wild for me.’
