Ridiculous (11 page)

“I pray you, cease behaving as if we dwell within a dreadful Gothic novel,” said Shoffer.

“I have never read one,” declared Beth to Millicent. “Can you make recommendations?”

“Certainly. I recommend you read as many as you can … particularly late at night by the light of a guttering candle.”

“Mister North!” cried Shoffer. “What are you encouraging my sister to do? Dreadful novels are hardly proper for the development of her mind.”

“Oh, come,” laughed Millicent. “You may hold to that posture if you can put your hand on your Bible and swear to me you do not have a dreadful novel in your luggage. I shall bet half a crown that you do.” She leaned toward the giggling Beth. “I can say that, you see, since I have seen a copy of
The Adventures at the Midnight Hour
next to his shaving brush.”

“May I read it when you are done?” asked Beth.

“Certainly not. It is hardly the thing for a lady’s sensibilities.”

“Ah, by that you will know that it has frightened your brother,” whispered Millicent.

“I am not frightened by the mere workings of an author's imagination,” sneered the duke.

“Oh, please, tell me about it,” begged Beth.

Millicent slowed her horse’s pace and permitted Lady Beth to move closer so she might tease and mock her brother. By the time they had reached a bridge damaged by a mud slide, Beth had browbeaten her brother into promising to read the book aloud to her. Judging by Shoffer's brilliant smile, he was quite happy to have her chattering at him.

After examining the scene, Mr. Prichart suggested his visitors return to the warmth of the house while he took care of his other duties. Millicent debated with herself, then attached herself to the farmer and sent Beth and Shoffer back together. It was Millicent's view that Beth would benefit from a closer relationship with her confident brother, and she, Millicent, should spend less time with the duke. Even the slightest smile, the briefest contact eye to eye was enough to raise her heart rate and send a flush to her cheeks. Fortunately, the weather was chill enough that her high color could be dismissed.

Since she had only a day or two yet to spend in his company, she could hope that her strength and luck would hold and she would not reveal herself.

Chapter Five

The entertainment that night after dinner was a reading from Shoffer's book. He chose the most thrilling chapter and told the story with such voices and atmospheric noises that there was complete silence from his audience.

Shoffer chose to address them from beside the fireplace. The firelight was kind to him: highlighting the sculpted planes of his face, displaying the breadth of his shoulders and narrow waist, and particularly fine, in Millicent’s opinion, legs and thighs spread dramatically wide as he braced himself for his reading.

 He was an unexpectedly dramatic orator. With one hand he held the book raised before his face, the other gracefully inscribed arcs through the air, his long-fingered hand flickering back and forth, drawing his awestruck listeners into the tale.

If pressed Millicent would have been unable to say what the story was about. All of her attention was caught by the rise and fall of his voice, the swell of his chest as he breathed. For the full hour Millicent watched, entranced. She could imagine those graceful movements of his hands gliding over a woman’s body, caressing and awakening her to passion. Her own skin prickled and warmed, and beneath the protection of her thick linen shirt and loose masculine jacket her breasts grew heavy and nipples tightened.

While all the other listeners gasped and shuddered at the dangers Shoffer related, Millicent focused on the beauty of his mouth, watched his well cut lips move, admired the firmness, the color. The pleased, smug smile that flickered and was gone when his audience shivered and sighed. At one point, he pursed his lips to imitate the moan of a ghost and heat filled Millicent’s face and chest. She could easily imagine those lips pursed to deliver a kiss. That mouth would not be hard then, but warm and soft and smooth, claiming a lady’s own with passion and power. Millicent had never experienced a true kiss, but knew through to her bones that Shoffer’s would be incomparable.

When his tongue darted out at one point to soothe and moisten his lips, Millicent’s heart clenched and heat pooled in her center. She had no idea why that movement should so affect her, but she watched intently lest he should do it again.

Shaken, inflamed, distracted – she came to herself with a start when Shoffer slammed the book shut. Indeed, she was not the only one to cry out in surprise. Glancing around the room she could only hope that they put her flushed face and flustered demeanor down to the terror of the story.

Both of the daughters of the house were huddled against their mother and the younger boys kneeled at their father's feet. Lady Beth held to her brother's feet, gazing up at him in open adoration. Millicent brushed one hand over her face, hoping to calm her blushes and grateful that she was not the only one to be red-faced and shivering in the aftermath of his reading.

 “Well, now,” said Mr. Prichart, rising. “I shall have no trouble waking anyone tomorrow morning since they will not have a wink of sleep tonight. Even so, up you go and off to bed.”

Millicent bowed as the ladies left and grinned at the smaller boys. Leaning forward she whispered as they left. “When I was younger, I was glad I slept in my brother's bed when there was a bad storm.” And the boys all agreed that was a good thing.

Once they were alone, Millicent bowed to Shoffer.

“You have an excellent speaking voice, Your Grace, and an entrancing manner. Should you ever tire of your responsibilities, I can predict a successful career upon the stage for you.”

“And I for you. I shall do the dramatic parts and you, the comedy.”

“And Lady Beth for Juliette.”

“She is a trifle shy for that, but much better than I have seen before. I judge you have a good effect upon her.”

Before Millicent could reply there was a light knock on their door. Shoffer nodded permission for Millicent to answer. She was halfway across the room before she realized she had responded to an order not even uttered. Wrinkling her nose she opened the door to reveal their host.

“Mr. Prichart?”

Their host stared straight over her shoulder as if she was not there. Millicent began to feel like a particularly clumsy and inconsequential butler.

“Ah, good. I caught you before you were abed, Your Grace. The rider you sent out earlier has returned. He said that the weather has changed and there will be a heavy freeze tonight.”

“Oh?” Shoffer stopped loosening his cravat and paid more attention. “How long will the freeze last?”

“I know not, but my feeling is that you should plan on leaving early in the morning. If the frost holds hard you should be able to get to Merthyr Tydfil by luncheon. If the weather breaks, as I fear it will in a day or so, we shall have either sleet or snow. Either way the roads will be dreadful. It would be better we get you to Merthyr Tydfil, or you may end up caught with us here till summer.”

“I agree. I shall go and so inform my sister and her chaperone. Mr. North, can you and Mr. Prichart be finished with your business by first light?”

“We have agreed in principle to the changes in his rents,” said Millicent. “There is just the enscribing to be done.”

“Then have at it, sir; then, we shall get what sleep we can. Mr. Prichart? If you could inform our staff of our departure?”

“I suspect your rider has already informed them of his observation. Well, Mr. North, shall we adjourn to my office?”

Sighing Millicent resigned herself to another hour tied inside her breast bindings and trailed along behind Mr. Prichart.

* * *

Mrs. Fleming was not a person who traveled well. Even in the best of weather, she kept her hartshorn close to her nose and a bowl between her feet. Having to travel in freezing weather was trial enough, but in bad company? Horrors!

She was not pleased that Lady Beth had disobeyed her the previous day and socialized with her inferiors. And now, to be trapped inside a carriage with the fribble Mr. North for hours, it was not to be borne! It was that lady's full intent that Mr. North be brought to an understanding of his inferior position in relation to the great house of the Duke of Trolenfield, even if it took the whole journey to Merthyr Tydfil to do it.

The milieu was, therefore, not very comfortable inside the rented carriage the next morning. Millicent, never been fond of sitting with her back to the horses, endured as best she could, since manners required that ladies face forward. Mrs. Fleming had arranged things so that Shoffer sat opposite his sister and Millicent faced Mrs. Fleming's deepest and most speaking frown.

There was not a joke or frivolous remark Millicent made that could shake that lady's disapproval. Lady Beth and Shoffer, however, exclaimed themselves well pleased with their traveling companion and competed with each other to cap Millicent's jokes.

“What are your plans for the summer, Mr. North?” asked Beth as the carriage lurched and shuddered over frozen ruts in the road.

Since the girl’s face was pale with a faint green tinge, Millicent was determined to be distracting.

“My habitual laziness has been undermined by Mr. Prichart's demand I should visit his farm. After meeting him, I find myself overwhelmed with curiosity about the rest of my holdings. I expect I shall spend the spring and summer going from farm to farm, dazzling the farmers’ wives with my wit and…”

“And debauching the farmers’ daughters?” accused Mrs. Fleming.

“I think I have more respect for my tenants than that,” said Millicent in chill tones. “What I intended to say was, avoiding the parson's mousetrap.”

“I could see that Mr. Prichart's daughters were very impressed with you,” laughed Beth.

“Not me,” said Millicent. “I could stand on my head when your brother is in the room and no one would glance at me.”

“The very idea!” gasped Mrs. Fleming. “I hope you gave them a stern set down, Your Grace. Such presumption! That is why I insisted that Lady Elizabeth should hold herself distant from those people. The duchess will not be pleased to hear you permitted Lady Elizabeth to be approached by those of such low estate.”

“I saw nothing wrong with Beth meeting examples of hard working people,” said Shoffer. “Much of our wealth comes from the labor of such and she should know and respect them.”

“She should pay charity calls in the company of a vicar’s wife,” declared Mrs. Fleming, “but by no means should she enter their houses or speak to them beyond the most condescending of greetings. To do more would be a degradation.”

Beth flushed and Millicent remembered the girl describing a scene involving a cottage fireside and kitten. Obviously, Beth had done more than nod from her place in a barouche while doing community visitation.

“I do not believe speaking to another human being is in any way a degradation, Mrs. Fleming,” said Beth, surprising that lady into dropping her hartshorn. “They have souls, as do I.”

“Her Grace, your grandmother, would be shocked to hear you say so, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Since she is not here, then she shall not know,” said Shoffer, his direct gaze setting Mrs. Fleming to the blush.

Beth bounced on her seat as much from the uneven road as her own excitement at challenging the authority of her chaperone.

“I am looking forward to the summer house parties I shall be attending. I hope to dance more than I did during the season.”

“Her Grace has already written to your hostesses informing them which persons it will be appropriate for you to dance with,” said Mrs. Fleming.

“As I will be attending these gatherings as well, my sister may apply to me for guidance and I shall provide any introductions that are necessary. It is my intention that Beth should enjoy herself.” Shoffer glared at Mrs. Fleming, awaiting her response with interest.

Millicent caught Beth's eye and grinned.

“Lady Elizabeth may enjoy herself, within reason,” replied Mrs. Fleming.

“Within reason? I have often wondered what reasonable enjoyment looks like,” said Millicent. “Is it one third of a picnic, or one quarter of being rowed about a lake?”

“An hour of horseback riding in bad weather,” suggested Beth. “One half hour of whist with a deaf partner.”

“You enjoy that? I am all astonishment,” cried Millicent.

“Lady Elizabeth,” cried Mrs. Fleming. “Mr. North, I do protest. You are overly familiar. His Grace's sister, should you presume to address yourself to her, is Lady Elizabeth!”

“Truly?” asked Millicent.

“Elizabeth Rose Edwina Genevieve Helene, actually,” said Lady Beth.

“Good heavens. You should be six feet tall to bear the burden of so many names.”

“It is the weight of them that keeps me short,” joked Lady Beth.

“Of all the preposterous things!” The carriage bounced and swayed at that point and Mrs. Fleming went decidedly green. “Oh, why must we travel in this dreadful farm cart?”

“It is a rented vehicle, I do admit, Mrs. Fleming,” said Millicent, “but travel tomorrow would be worse and if we stayed another day, then we might be trapped at the manor in a blizzard. Just imagine the degradation.”

“Oh, yes,” added Beth. “Why if I had another two conversations with Mrs. Prichart, I should lose all my good sense and my speech would be provincial beyond all repair.”

“This is not a matter for humor,” cried Mrs. Fleming. “Your Grace, I do not understand why you do not support me in this? Your sister's reputation, her very station, may be undermined by such bad associations.”

“I do hope, Mrs. Fleming, that you are not suggesting that I am leading my sister astray?”

The chaperone gave a long suffering sigh. “Your Grace, you are a man…”

“Never say so,” cried Beth. “Timothy, is this true? How long have you been a man? And what of Mr. North? Is he a man as well?”

Millicent's heart stopped, skittered, then Beth burst out laughing, soon joined by her brother. Mrs. Fleming scowled at them both.

“I would judge, Your Grace,” said Millicent when her heart resumed a regular beat, “that your sister has improved somewhat in the matter of chatting.”