friend to her, but she hesitated over getting too involved with anyone. She didn’t think her aunt would approve. Besides, no one would ever be her friend again if it was discovered that she was gathering information on people to write about them in Lord Truefitt’s column. According to Aunt Beatrice, everyone in the ton wanted to read the tittle-tattle, but no one wanted to be written about in them. And Millicent had no doubt that members of the ton would never associate with anyone who wrote them.
“There you are, Millicent, dear. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Millicent turned at the sound of Lady Heathecoute’s loud voice, but instead of seeing the large woman, she looked straight into the sparkling blue eyes of the handsome gentleman she’d talked to last night. Her breathing kicked up a notch and her throat went dry.
The handsome gentleman had sought her out.
“May I present Chandler Prestwick, the earl of Dunraven.”
Five
“I do desire that we may be better strangers” or the Mad Ton Thief will not be found this Season. But not to worry, while we wait for the robber to be apprehended, we can expect wedding parties for Miss Watson-Wentworth and the Marquess of Gardendowns.
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
Millicent curtsied low, hoping to hide the shock in her eyes and slow the hammering of her heart at hearing his name. Angels above, Lord Dunraven was one of the Terrible Threesome her aunt had warned her about. Not only was he one of the most eligible men in Town, he was one of the most scandalous, if what her aunt said was true.
He was just the kind of rake who had ruined her mother’s reputation. He certainly wasn’t the kind of man that Millicent should lose her senses over. And to think she had dreamed about him last night and had wanted to meet him again.
She rose from her curtsy determined to find a way to deny his strong appeal. “How do you do, my lord,” she answered, her tone cool now that she knew who he was.
“Lord Dunraven, this is Miss Millicent Blair, the niece of a dear friend from the country. This is her first visit to Town.”
His shining blue gaze brushed lingeringly down her face before lighting on her eyes. Unexpected pleasure filled her, and excitement at his presence grew inside her despite her resolution not to be affected by him.
“Welcome to London, Miss Blair. I trust you are enjoying yourself.”
“Very much, thank you. I find London and its people fascinating.”
“That’s good to hear. We do take great pride in our fair city. I’m sure Lady Heathecoute is seeing that you are attending the best parties and luncheons and taking calls from only the most respectable of gentlemen.”
Millicent glanced at her chaperone, who wore a delighted expression on her face. “You have no need to concern yourself on that account, sir. Her ladyship and the viscount have been dedicated to me.”
“No doubt you have many thank-you letters to write,” he said with a hint of a devilish grin attractively lifting one corner of his lips.
Millicent cleared her throat. He dared to bring that up, obviously in hopes of provoking her to blush. He was a rake of the highest order. The smile on his roguish lips and the sparkle in his intriguing eyes made it clear he was having a wonderful time at her expense. She should be outraged, but she was wasn’t. She was pleasantly puzzled by his attention.
“Yes. I believe I’m up to date on all my notes, Lord Dunraven. I’m flattered by your interest, considering I’m a stranger to you.”
“Not that we’ve now been introduced. With Lady Heathecoute’s permission, perhaps there’s room on your dance card for me, if it’s not filled with notes—I mean names.”
Millicent had to think quickly. The last thing she wanted was Lord Dunraven looking at her card. She didn’t want anyone looking at it.
No wonder he was considered one of the Terrible Threesome. He was a scandalous earl. He was openly flirting with her in front of the viscountess at one moment and trying to get her into trouble the next—proof that the earl of Dunraven was not a man she could afford to have anything to do with—no matter how utterly charming he was.
“How very kind of you to offer, my lord, but I’m afraid I can’t accept any more invitations tonight. I believe her ladyship is eager for us to go on to the next party she has planned for us this