so happy, I don’t know what to say.”
“And I’m delighted to see you, my love. You look wonderful.” She patted her daughter’s cheek affectionately. “I believe life in London has been good for you.”
Her mother looked over at Chandler and winked. Winked? What was going on? What was Chandler doing with her mother and what had he told her mother?
“Mama, how did you get here? Why did you come? How did you meet Chandler?” The questions entered Millicent’s mind faster than they could tumble from her lips.
“Phillips, take Hamlet upstairs,” Aunt Beatrice said, handing the barking dog to her butler. “There’s too much going on to settle him.”
Millicent’s mother completely ignored every one of Millicent’s questions and turned to her sister-in-law as soon as Hamlet left her arms. “And, dear Beatrice, how are you? How long has it been since I’ve seen you? I think it has been at least ten or twelve years since you last visited our home. You look splendid. Millicent’s visit must have been just the tonic you needed.” She bent down and kissed both of the older lady’s cheeks.
“Thank you, Dorothy, but I’m feeling a wee bit overwhelmed with shock at the moment.”
“As I am,” Dorothy said. “But Lord Dunraven explained everything to me.”
“Everything?” Millicent and Beatrice said in unison as they looked at each other.
“Yes, I suppose so,” her mother said, glancing from Chandler to Millicent.
“Mama, have you seen the afternoon paper?” Millicent asked, still trying to make sense of why her mother was in London.
“Of course not, my dear, we only just arrived in Town and came straight here.”
“And not a moment too soon. Phillips, bring some tea and brandy for our guests,” Aunt Beatrice said before the butler reached the door. “When you return, bring my tonic. I think I need fortifying.”
Chandler walked over to Millicent with long, confident strides. His blue eyes watched her face so intensely it felt like a caress. “I told you we had a lot of things to discuss,” he said quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
Her heart raced in her chest. “I believe I do.”
“Are you ready to talk?”
“Most assuredly, sir. I think you have many things to explain to me.”
He gave her a curious expression. “Perhaps we should step into the garden and let your mother and your aunt get reacquainted.”
“I think that is an excellent idea.”
After receiving permission from her mother to stroll with Lord Dunraven, Millicent and he walked to the back of the garden and sat down on one of the benches near the statue. A wispy breeze stirred strands of his hair, and rays from the sun streaked it with shiny bits.
He kept a respectable distance from her on the lawn seat, but she was certain she could feel his warmth and his strength without her touching him.
Earlier in her bedchamber Millicent had prepared herself for being the object of scandal and dealt with it, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the arrival of Chandler and her mother.
She had decided the first question she needed to ask was, “Did you exchange my writings of Lord Truefitt’s column in The Daily Reader for one of your own?”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned the newspaper. Millicent, I’ve not seen a paper in two days now. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Millicent believed him. She hadn’t thought him capable of such vile trickery, but what was he doing showing up at her aunt’s house with her mother by his side?
“What did my mother mean by saying you had told her everything?”
“As far as she is concerned I did. I didn’t tell her you were alone with me in my town house and there is no reason for her to know.”
“I’m afraid she will find out quite soon. My greatest fear has been realized.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone saw me leave your house that morning and the story was printed in Lord Truefitt’s column today.”
Anger clouded his features. “Are you certain?”
“I read it myself only a few minutes ago.”
“Damnation, how did it happen?”
“I have no idea. My aunt and I were just talking about it when you came in. Someone must have seen me leave your house. They obviously wrote about it and somehow managed to exchange their column with mine. I can only suppose they paid someone at The Daily Reader to make the switch.”
A light shown in Chandler’s eyes. “I think I might know who saw you.”
“Who?”
“Lord Heathecoute.”
She gasped. “That would make perfect sense. How do you know he was there?”
“He came to