In Good Company (35 page)

Millie frowned. “Why didn’t you simply introduce the children in the receiving line, like everyone expected you to do?”

Caroline waved the question aside with a flick of her fan. “Surely you, Miss Longfellow, being such an esteemed member of your profession, know that children are highly unlikely to behave properly if they’re made to stand still for too long. I, being a rather magnanimous sort, excused them from such a dreary obligation. But now it’s time for them to put adorable smiles on those three little faces and allow me to show them off properly.”

“We’re not pets,” Elizabeth muttered.

“That’s debatable, but . . .” Caroline moved closer to the children and looked them up and down. “All of you, surprisingly enough, turned out very nicely this evening. Why, those dresses, with all their frills and lace, are too precious, and . . . look at you, darling Thaddeus, wearing pants, and well-tailored
pants at that.” She smiled again. “You’ll do me and your uncle proud this evening, and if you behave, I’ll give you a wonderful surprise at the end of the ball.”

“What kind of surprise?” Rose asked.

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, Rosetta.”

Rose immediately turned stubborn. “My name is Rose.”

“It’s not. Rose is a common, nasty name, so you’ll go by Rosetta, thank you very much. Now, take my hand. You may take my other one, Elizabeth, and you, Thaddeus, may walk beside your twin.”

“I want to hold Miss Millie’s hand,” Thaddeus argued.

“That would not be proper, dear. Miss
Longfellow
, not Miss
Millie
, is the nanny, so she does not get to have the honor of holding your hand, especially since I expect her to trail after us.”

“I’ll trail with her,” Lucetta said, stepping up to Millie.

“I don’t recall inviting you to join us, Miss Plum.”

Lucetta drew herself up, and right there and then, in a blink of an eye, she turned . . . haughty. “Surely you must realize that I’m not the type of woman who waits to be invited for anything, Miss Dixon.”

For a second, Millie thought Caroline was going to argue, but she looked at Lucetta for a long moment, seemed to realize she’d met her match, and shrugged. “Fine, but make certain the two of you stay three feet behind me.”

Lucetta dipped into a cheeky curtsy. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Not bothering to address the cheek, Caroline folded up her fan, grabbed hold of Elizabeth and Rose’s hands, and without speaking another word, stalked for the house.

“Do you remember when Everett offered to purchase me something for my assistance and I refused his offer?” Lucetta asked, twining her arm with Millie’s.

“Changed your mind about that, have you?”

Lucetta grinned. “I have indeed, and I think we might just have to ask him for an added bonus for you as well.” Her grin widened. “That diamond collar Caroline’s wearing is nice. Perhaps we’ll insist Everett buy us two of those.”

“I highly doubt I’ll ever be invited to an event that requires something so fancy.”

“Good point, but stop frowning, dear. People are beginning to take note of us.”

Glancing to Lucetta out of the corner of her eye, Millie found her friend had changed from haughty to aloof, although her eyes were sparkling and her lips were curled rather intriguingly right at the corners, lending her a most mysterious air. “How do you do that?”

“Years and years of practice, but . . . smile.”

Summoning up a smile, even though her lips had turned remarkably stiff, Millie held fast to Lucetta’s arm as they traveled down a hallway—the requested three feet of space being carefully maintained—and into the ballroom. Pretending not to notice everyone staring her way, Millie kept her gaze on the children. Pride flowed through her when they used proper manners with everyone Caroline introduced them to, leaving quite a few guests smiling fondly after them when they moved on to meet other people.

“Everett’s over by that wall,” Lucetta whispered with a nod to the left.

Pulling her attention away from Thaddeus, who seemed to be telling a well-dressed lady all about his tin soldiers, Millie suddenly felt her stomach clench when her gaze settled on Everett.

He was looking . . . well, certainly not dashing considering the state of his bruised face, but he was laughing at something
a young lady was saying to him and then nodding appreciatively at a gentleman who spoke to him next.

“He doesn’t seem to be suffering any lasting effects from those brawls. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself, and no one seems to be giving him the cut direct,” she said.

Lucetta squeezed her arm. “I never imagined anyone would cut him, Millie.” She waved a hand in the air. “Look around. We’re right smack in the midst of proof of exactly how large the Mulberry fortune is, something no guest here, I assure you, has neglected to notice. The decorations alone had to have cost a sizeable fortune, and you can smell the tempting aroma of dishes that I’m going to assume will be extraordinary.”

Taking a moment to look around her surroundings, Millie found that Lucetta was exactly right. Gold tulle was strung from the ceilings, sparkling with what she hoped weren’t real diamonds, and exotic hothouse flowers were spread all over the room, their delicate scent mixing with that of the delicious food Lucetta had mentioned. Chandeliers sparkled, and crystal was everywhere, while members of the staff Miss Pickenpaugh had brought in served glasses of champagne off of silver trays. Fountains were tinkling from every corner of the room, and an entire orchestra was set up on the far side, the members of that orchestra formally dressed and even now beginning to tune up their instruments.

She’d never felt more out of place or more inconsequential.

This was Everett’s true world, filled with sparkling people, sparkling surroundings, and sparkling conversation.

She was simply an orphan who came from poor parents and never had anything sparkling to say, unless it revolved around children.

“Millie, are you all right?”

“Of course I am,” she finally managed to whisper.

Taking a very firm grip on her arm, Lucetta pulled Millie up to Caroline, who immediately bristled. “What happened to the three feet?” Caroline hissed under her breath.

“Millie isn’t feeling well, so I’m taking her back to the terrace.” Lucetta nodded to the children. “You may stay here, but when Miss Dixon is done with you, go to your Uncle Everett or come back to us. We’ll be just outside.”

“Millie, Lucetta, there you are.”

Drawing in a steadying breath, Millie soon found herself being given an enthusiastic hug by Abigail, right before Dorothy replaced Abigail and gave her a good hard squeeze.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my dear, as do you, Lucetta,” Dorothy said with a smile.

“They neglected to wear their tiaras,” Abigail grumbled.

“You expected them to wear tiaras?” Caroline’s face began to darken. “That is . . .”

“I was just about to take Millie outside,” Lucetta interrupted. “I think the closeness of this room has made her a little light-headed, so if you’ll excuse us . . . ?”

Without bothering to wait for anyone to reply, Lucetta spun around with Millie still attached to her arm and began strolling ever so casually through the crowd, although she somehow managed the stroll at a rather rapid rate of speed. Pulling Millie through the door, she hustled her back to their obscure terrace and pushed her down on the stone bench. “What happened?”

Tears blinded Millie for a second before she dashed them away. “I’ve been so silly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I tried to pretend otherwise, but deep down I thought there was a chance . . .”

“For you and Everett?”

Millie waved a hand rather helplessly in the air. “I told you—I’ve been silly. It’s just that he’s been so . . .”

“Interested in you?”

Millie blinked. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but he has been nice, but . . . I suppose that’s just his nature.”

“Everett is nice, but he’s not
that
nice, and he
is
interested in you. He’s just been fighting that interest.”

“That makes me feel
so
much better.”

Lucetta smiled down at Millie. “He’s your Mr. Darcy.”

“That’s just a fairy tale, Lucetta. Real gentlemen don’t put their social position in jeopardy because they’ve fallen for someone not of their station.”

“Oliver fell for Harriet.”

“Since she turned out to have a fairly illustrious ancestry, that’s probably not the best example to use.” Millie’s shoulders sagged. “Did I ever tell you that I went back to the orphanage I was raised in a few years ago?”

“I don’t recall you ever mentioning that to me.”

“I was hoping, you see, to find out more about my parents, hoping to find out I had a few siblings here or there, but . . . no one could find any record of me having been raised there at all. Since I’m not even sure my surname really is Longfellow, I’ll never find a real family like Harriet did.”

“I’m your family, Millie. I’ve been your sister since the moment we met.”

Tears blinded her once again, and she didn’t bother to wipe them off her cheeks when they slipped out of her eyes. “That’s lovely of you to say, Lucetta, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m missing the whole proper pedigree business that’s essential in Everett’s world.”

Sitting beside her on the bench, Lucetta took her hand. Music from the orchestra began spilling out of the open windows mo
ments later, and for a long while, they simply sat and listened to it.

Finally drawing in a shuddering breath, Millie patted Lucetta’s hand and was about to go see where the children were when Davis, dressed in a smart set of formal livery, came out on the terrace, carrying one end of a table while Johnson, another footman, carried the other. Sending Millie a grin, Davis deposited the table off to the side, then nodded to some maids who’d followed him, maids who seemed to be holding table linens, cutlery, and dinnerware in their hands.

“Good heavens. What’s all this?” Millie asked, rising to her feet as the maids went about the business of setting up the table.

“Mrs. Mulberry thought it might be pleasant for the two of you, and the children as well, to enjoy dinner out here on the terrace,” Davis said. “Dinner won’t be served for hours yet, but since all the guests are getting ready for the cotillion dances to begin, our services won’t be missed right now.”

“How kind of Mrs. Mulberry to realize the children would be more comfortable out here,” Millie said softly.

“Indeed,” Davis said right as Elizabeth, Rose, and Thaddeus ran out on the terrace again and sent Millie grins.

“Miss Dixon’s done with us,” Thaddeus proclaimed in clear delight. “We came back here to do some dancing even though Elizabeth might have wanted to watch that cotill . . . whatever it’s called.”

“Cotillion,” Elizabeth supplied. “And I did want to watch it since I’m not really sure what it’s all about.”

Lucetta rose from the bench and walked over to Elizabeth’s side. “A cotillion is a special dance, performed by a select group of young ladies and gentlemen, all of whom have spent hours learning the proper steps at a dance academy.”

Elizabeth looked a little wistful. “I sure hope I’ll be able to
learn a cotillion dance someday. The ladies all looked beautiful and their partners were very dashing.”

Lucetta shook her head. “You say that now, darling, but once you’ve been forced to practice the same dance over and over and over again, well, it becomes somewhat tedious.”

“You’ve practiced for a cotillion?” Elizabeth asked slowly.

For a second, Lucetta’s eyes clouded, but then she laughed, took hold of Elizabeth’s hand, and twirled her around. “How about if I show you a few simple steps?”

Watching Lucetta twirl Elizabeth around the terrace, Millie wondered once again about her friend’s past, a past Lucetta avoided talking about, but a past Millie knew full well held secrets.

“Do you want to dance with me, Miss Millie?”

Shaking out of her thoughts, Millie grinned down at Thaddeus, who was holding his little arm out to her. Unable to resist his sweet offer, she bent down and took the arm, laughing in delight as they shuffled around the terrace, completely at odds with the beats of the music pouring out of the windows, but having a grand time nevertheless.

“Someone needs to dance with me,” Rose complained from the sidelines.

Stepping immediately up to her, Davis presented Rose with a bow, and grinning from ear to ear, the little girl dipped into a remarkably fine curtsy, before she threw herself at the footman and he whirled her away.

Time slipped by as they danced to one tune after another, and during a pause in the music, feeling a little breathless, Millie shook her head at Davis, who’d just offered to show her how to waltz.

“I really don’t dance, Davis, but thank you for the offer.”

“I don’t actually know the steps, Miss Millie, but it seems a
shame that you and Miss Plum are looking so lovely tonight, but haven’t been given the opportunity to waltz.”

“It’s a shame indeed.”

Millie’s breath left her in a split second as Everett strolled across the terrace, smiling her way and looking remarkably handsome, at least to her, even though his face was still a bit of a disaster. Coming to a stop right in front of her, he nodded to Davis.

“Perhaps you could offer Miss Plum a dance instead?”

Davis’s eyes widened. He leaned closer to Everett and lowered his voice. “Miss Plum scares me, Mr. Mulberry. That’s why I asked Miss Millie. She’s safer.”

“I’m completely safe, Davis,” Lucetta said with a huff before she took the poor man by the arm and grabbed hold of his other hand. “Allow me to teach you the basic steps of the waltz.”

With Davis turning bright red, Lucetta sent Millie a wink and then spun Davis around, not giving the man an opportunity to refuse her demand of a waltz.

“That’ll be something he’ll be able to talk about for years,” Millie said, catching Everett’s eye, which immediately had all the breath leaving her again.

To her confusion, Everett frowned. “I must beg your pardon, Millie. I rather rudely stepped in between you and Davis. It has not escaped my notice that he seems a little . . . keen to be around you, and . . . if you’re, ah, keen to be around him, I won’t stand in your way.”