Page 83 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
Franklin’s grey eyes widened. ‘What are you talking about? What girl? You said in your note you wanted to discuss a liaison. Is this girl an addition you want to make to our little twosome?’
She rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide her disgust. ‘No, you idiot. I lied. Please pay attention. I want to know who your brethren are in the Devil’s Sons. Who are the men organising this horrific trade of women, Franklin? Tell me now, and I’ll do what I can to keep your name out of it.’ For a woman who abhorred lying, Millie was pouring them out rather easily when it came to duping Franklin.
‘So you don’t want to have an affair?’ Comprehension dawned in painfully slow degrees. He grabbed her wrist in a harsh grip. ‘You stupid, little bitch!’ He hissed, pulling her close enough to smell the stale gin on his breath. ‘You don’t know anything! You can’t proveanything.’
‘I found Lucy.’
His grip tightened, and his sad little chin began to quiver.
I have you now, you bastard.
‘She is safe. And she identified you as her kidnapper. It’s over for you. Unless you tell me who you’re working with. It’s the only way out for you, Franklin.’
Watching his face pale as his eyes widened filled Millie with pride at a job well done.
‘It’s not possible. You’re just a silly, useless woman. How could you possibly?—’
‘I’m much more than that. I’m the woman who is going to ruin you far more thoroughly than you ever ruined me.’
He pulled back his hand in a move Millie had seen a thousand times from her stepmother. He was going to try to slap her.
He wouldn’t succeed.
As his hand flew, she knocked it aside with her left hand, then slammed her right fist into his throat.
Franklin’s face turned an alarming shade of purple. He clawed his throat with both hands, gasping loudly as he fell to hisknees. She grabbed his head in her hands, slamming her knee into his nose. It exploded in a spray of crimson all over her dress.
‘Even my stepmother hits harder than you, Franklin.’ She spoke to his prostrate form as he writhed on the ground.
‘Miss Millicent!’ Reynard came running around the hedge, skidding on the pebbles as he reached her.
Franklin rolled onto his side, one hand cupping his nose while the other was pressed to his throat. High-pitched gurgles made the blood still pouring from his broken nose bubble in a most distracting way.
Philippa emerged from the holly bush as Drake sauntered over from the oak tree.
‘Nicely done, Millicent. Shame about your dress.’ Philippa eyed the crimson stain on Millie’s split skirts.
She looked down. Her favourite riding habit was a mess. ‘Yes. Next time, I’ll make sure to avoid breaking a nose if at all possible.’
‘Are you well?’ Drake’s icy eyes melted in the sunlight with an emotion Millie was too fearful to name.
Does he truly love me? Is that what this is?
Because words were one thing, but actions were quite another, and far more telling of a person’s true feelings.
‘What the actual hell is going on?’ Reynard looked at each of them, his voice rising. ‘I got word to return post haste, I left the search for the missing girl, saw Miss Millicent being accosted by Franklin St George. Meanwhile, you two were hiding in the shadows. Why did neither of you try to help? And when did you learn to fight like that, Miss Millicent? And why confront St George now? Will someone please explain?’ Reynard looked ready to explode.
‘I wouldn’t mind hearing this tale.’
Millie followed the sound of a vaguely familiar voice. She looked beyond Reynard to see a tall, dark, handsome man strolling along the walk with a petite woman at his side.
‘Hannah!’ She squealed and ran past a shocked Reynard to almost bowl her friend over in a massive hug.
Hannah and Killian were back! And standing in Drake’s garden. It was unbelievable.
‘Millie! We couldn’t possibly miss your wedding.’ Hannah’s strong arms tightened around Millie before releasing her. ‘When Robert received word, we cancelled the rest of our trip and took the next steamship to London!’ Hannah Simmons, former ward to Philippa, now Lady Killian, Duchess of Covington, was a sight for sore eyes.
‘Does Ivy know you’re here?’ Millie kept Hannah’s hand in her own, tugging her closer to where Philippa still watched over a whimpering St George.
