A Dash of Scandal - By Amelia Grey Page 0,60

hand against the wall, stopping her from passing.

Suddenly he was much too close to Millicent.

He spoke in a low but firm tone. “I’m not going to let you change the subject, Millicent. We are talking about the column, not dancing, not the thief, not a ghost. The column with my name and your name in it. Remember?”

“I believe I do.”

“Good.” He folded his arms across his chest in a comfortable relaxed manner. “I have a theory regarding how this came about.”

“I’m sure the authorities would welcome any conjecture you have on the thief.”

His voice remained low and calm. “Nice try, but it’s not going to work. I’m talking about Lord Truefitt’s column, not the thief.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to hear it?”

“No, I don’t believe I would,” she answered honestly. “And I think we’ve said about all there is to say on the subject.”

“I think you should hear it. I insist.”

She took another deep breath. “All right.”

“I think you are a spy for Lord Truefitt and his gossip colum—”

Before he finished the last word, Millicent stepped forward and placed her fingers against his lips, silencing him. “No, Lord Dunraven, please don’t say it aloud.” She glanced around to see if Glenda had returned and then quickly back to Lord Dunraven. “You mustn’t breathe a word out loud about your theory.”

While her fingers rested upon his lips, their eyes met and held for far too long. She felt as if he were trying to look into her soul and see the Millicent Blair she didn’t want him to know. Millicent felt his warm moist lips against her fingers, and didn’t want to take her hand away.

He grasped the palm of her hand and kissed the pads of all four of her fingers before lowering her hand and letting go of her.

“I can’t let you tempt me.”

Millicent was hardly breathing. Tempt him? She was the one being tempted. Didn’t he know how easy it was for him to distract her and make her forget everything but his presence?

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step away from him and toward the window. “That was impolite. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

“Don’t apologize. I don’t mind that you touched me, but I can’t let it distract me.”

“But I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s all right, Millicent.”

She lowered her lashes. “Please don’t call me that. You really shouldn’t be so informal when addressing me, sir.”

“Why? After yesterday afternoon, I feel free to suggest we are intimate friends, and it’s quite acceptable for me to call on you and to address you as Millicent. And furthermore, you should call me Chandler.”

Her gaze met his again. “No, I was hoping you would forget what happened yesterday afternoon.”

“That won’t happen.”

“I forgot about it until you reminded me just now.”

He shook his head slowly and his eyes sparkled with perception. He said, “I don’t think so.”

How could he be charming even when he was mocking her? “A true gentleman would never remind a lady of an indiscretion.”

“We’ve already established that sometimes I’m not a gentleman.”

“Most times, I fear, and no truer words have you spoken.”

“And returning to the main subject we have to discuss, it is also true that you are a spy for Lord Truefitt, isn’t it, Millicent?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but she saw in his eyes that there was no use. He knew.

She acknowledged him with a question of her own. “Were you only guessing when you first suggested it? Did I confirm it by my action?”

“Once I started adding things up, it became an easy answer to see.”

“How?” Millicent sighed, knowing how disappointed—no, devastated—her aunt would be to have lost her eyes and ears for the parties. “I have been so careful.”

“You were always making notes. I’ve watched how you walk around the parties and listen to people and then go off on your own to write down what you’ve heard. When I read what was on the back of the dance card you dropped on the floor, I assumed you were making notes so it would be easier to remember people’s names and their titles, since you were new in Town.”

“You found my missing dance card.”

“Yes, I needed to know what you were doing when you walked off alone.”

What must have really happened dawned on Millicent.

“You brute, you deliberately switched my dance card with another just so you could read what I had written, didn’t you? You changed cards with me and gave me the blank one?”

“Yes.”

“I should have figured that out

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