Page 75 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
‘No. I don’t.’ She sipped her coffee. Her black hair was pulled into an intricate coiffure of braids and curls. Streaks of silver threading through it created a dramatic effect, like lightning in a midnight sky. ‘She told you everything, didn’t she?’
Drake’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. A chunk of haddock splatted back to his plate. ‘Pardon?’
What the actual hell?
‘I don’t repeat myself, Major General Drake.’
‘I’m not sure I understand.’
Philippa snorted, an oddly endearing sound coming from such a dignified woman. ‘You have many faults, sir. Lack of intelligence is not one of them. Millicent told you about her work with the Queen. Judging by your pale face and delicate appetite this morning, I’d say you mucked things up quite thoroughly.’
Drake gave up trying to eat. The food tasted like ash, and it was an impossible task at any rate when his mouth kept dropping open from shock. He followed her lead and sipped his own coffee. ‘I did not muck things up, thank you very much.’ He was tired of being bested by every woman in his goddamned house.
‘You did. And you know you did. You just don’t like that I’m pointing it out. But hiding your mistakes won’t fix anything. What did you tell her? That you wouldn’t allow her to continue her work?’
Impossible woman! How does she know so much?
‘Did you speak with Millie?’ It was the only possible answer.
‘I spoke withMillielast night.Beforeshe spoke to you.’ He didn’t miss her emphasis on his use of Millie’s pet name. He was going to be her husband in a few short days. He damn well hadthe right to use such a familiar nomenclature. It didn’t stop the blush from heating his cheeks and fuelling his frustration. He was a war-hardened soldier, for Christ’s sake. Hedid notblush. His cheeks got hotter.
The duchess ignored his obvious discomfort, or – more accurately – revelled in it as she continued talking. ‘She told me she was going to trust you. That is all I needed to hear to predict the outcome.’
Anger, mortification, and shame swirled in his belly with the little bit of food he’d choked down. ‘Predict exactly what, madame?’
Philippa’s lips widened in an expression too sharp to be called a smile. ‘You are a man who values control above all else. And Millicent is a wild typhoon you’re desperately trying to contain. She will destroy you if you don’t let her go. And you will decimate her if you hold on.’
‘I would never hurt her.’ He fisted his hand and pounded it on the table to punctuate his words.
Philippa’s hand dipped into what must be a pocket. Highly unusual. But then, so was the duchess. Drake wondered exactly what she kept hidden in her midnight-blue skirts. Whatever it was, he’d bet it was lethal.
‘I wouldn’t recommend you raise your voice to me again, Major General Drake.’
Drake clenched his teeth and counted to ten. He did not apologise. Because he did not make mistakes.
Until last night. And this morning.
‘I am sorry, Your Grace. I know Millie is important to you. She is even more so to me. As her future husband, it’s my duty to protect her. And my honour to keep her safe.’
Philippa’s low laugh filled the room. ‘Protect her. Keep her safe. Do you know what I hear when you say those words? Control her. Contain her. Take away her choices becauseshe couldn’t possibly be intelligent enough to make her own decisions.’
Fucking hell.
The truth of her words hit deeper than a bullet to his chest.
‘So, you would just have me let her go?’ Even the thought of it stole his breath.
‘If you want any chance of earning her trust, proving your faith in her? Yes.’
Philippa was crushing him into dust. But she wasn’t done yet.
‘I rarely impart my wisdom on men. Most are too stupid and too full of their own ignorance to appreciate it. But I will take a risk with you, Major General Drake. Don’t make me regret this.’
Drake forced himself to straighten his shoulders, hating that he was desperate to hear whatever advice the duchess was willing to impart. He nodded – as if she needed his permission to do anything.
Philippa rubbed her thumb and forefinger in rhythmic circles, then leaned forward. ‘Love, real love, the kind that binds two souls together, amalgamating them in a crucible of trust and commitment, that rare and wondrous miracle of true love doesn’t take choice away under the guise of protection. It doesn’t strip someone of power with the pretence of safety.’
He shook his head, instinctively rejecting her words. ‘I’m not trying to take away her freedom.’
