His grandmother was turning a beautiful shade of puce. He added fuel to the fire. “The only small—really very tiny difficulty—is that she has a tendency to steal, but I’m sure—”
“Steal?You’re consideringan illiterate maidservant who steals?” Her voice rose to a screech.
“Oh, not all the time,” he said reassuringly. “And I have every hope of curing her of her larcenous habits. I’m sure she wouldn’t steal from you, Grandmama.” He smiled.
His grandmother clutched her pearls and glared at him. She seemed lost for words, which he thought was a nice change. Her mouth opened and closed, rather like a goldfish’s, but no words came out.
It didn’t last. Her bosom swelled and she said in a voice of doom, “Are you telling me you brought this—thiscreatureto London with you?”
He said with dignity, “She’s not a creature, Grandmama. Please recall, you are speaking of My Intended. But alas, I was unable to bring her to London. She ran off with some of my valuables.”
His grandmother heaved a sigh of relief, so he added, “But I have every hope of finding her.”
Her eyes bulged. “Are you mad? An illiterate French maidservant, to be the next Countess of Foxton? You cannot be serious!” He wasn’t sure, but he thought there might be steam coming out of her ears.
“Oh, but I am, Grandmama. Very serious.” He gave her a beatific smile. “So you don’t need to be fretting about me and the succession anymore. As soon as I find her, I’ll be married and working on getting an heir. Just as you’ve always wanted.” He rose. “I must be off now. I have a busy day planned tomorrow. Good evening, Grandmama. Sleep well and dream of my nuptials.”
After breakfast Milly and Zoë were getting ready to go out for an early morning drive with Izzy and Clarissa. The plan was to take Milly someplace where she could walk in the fresh air, get some exercise and not feel so constricted. The garden, of course, was impossible; though her mother never usually ventured out there, she just might this one time.
It was not the season for flowers, but though it was cold outside, the skies were clear and Zoë was looking forward to the outing. Milly was not the only one who’d been feeling confined: everywhere Zoë went, Milly went, too, and it was driving her mad.
The carriage waited outside, the horses restless to be off. Zoë, Clarissa and Izzy had gathered downstairs in the front sitting room, talking with Lady Scattergood while they waited for Milly to join them. She always took ages to dress, dithering over what to wear, but also, today, how to make sure her mama wouldn’t see her.
The front doorbell jangled. They exchanged glances. It was rather early for a caller.
“I’m here for Miss Harrington,” they heard a deep voice say to the butler.
They stiffened. Had Mrs. Harrington discovered where her daughter was hiding?
Lady Scattergood made a dismissive gesture. “Treadwell will take care of it.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Harrington does not reside here,” they heard Treadwell say in his usual pompous voice.
“Nonsense. I know she’s here, so fetch her at once.”
“Good day to you, sir,” Treadwell said in his most freezing dismissive tones. Then they heard, “Sir, I must protes—Squawk!” It was a most un-Treadwell-like sound.
They hurried to the entry hall. A man stood just inside, brown-haired, with regular features, of medium height, stockily built and quite stylishly dressed. He was a complete stranger.
Behind him, Treadwell stood outside, on the front steps, looking like an extremely ruffled owl.
The man bowed to Lady Scattergood. “Good morning, ma’am, ladies, I’m sorry to barge in like this—”
From behind him Treadwell bleated, “He did, I tried to stop him, but—”
The man dismissed him with a snap of the fingers. Treadwell stopped, swelling with wordless outrage. No one ever snapped fingers at him like that. He did the finger snapping in this house.
The man continued. “Your butler did try to stop me, but my case is urgent. I am here for Miss Harrington. My name is—”
“Thaddeus!” Milly screeched from the landing. Snatching off her veil and tossing it aside, she flew down the stairs, hurtled across the floor and threw herself into his arms, babbling, “I knew you would come. Mama didn’t see you, did she? Oh, Thaddeus, I’m so unhappy and I don’t know what to do. I can’t bear being cooped up like this. And Mama will be furious when she finds me. Oh, Thaddeus, you’re here, you’re here.”
He held her close and murmured soothing things into her ear, and eventually, when she had calmed, she said, “But why are you here? I won’t turn one-and-twenty for ages yet. Weeks.”
“I’m taking you away,” Thaddeus said. “Today. Now, in fact. So run upstairs and pack your things. My carriage awaits you.”
Zoë glanced at her sisters. This was excellent news.
Milly blinked up at him. “Your carriage? You mean we’re eloping? Oh, Thaddeus, I don’t think—”
