A Dash of Scandal - By Amelia Grey Page 0,99

or twice a week, she would be able to get sufficient gossip until her aunt was ready to resume her duties. At that time, Millicent would feel she had fulfilled her commitment to her father’s sister.

But first she had to tell her aunt about the column, and she had to do it now. And if her mother, by chance, found out about her liaison with Lord Dunraven, Millicent was sure she would understand. After all, her mother had once been in love with a rake, too.

There was a knock on her bedchamber door. She looked up and saw Emery standing in the doorway, regarding the dog in Millicent’s lap.

“So the master of the house has finally come around,” Emery said.

“So it seems. Today, Hamlet and I have a new relationship.”

“It’s about time.” Emery paused for a moment, then with a curious expression asked, “Is there a problem with your clothing, miss?”

Millicent looked at her open wardrobe and her dresses slung across the bed. She smiled at the maid. “No, everything is all right.”

“Lady Beatrice would like to see you.”

Millicent tensed. Oh dear, she must have already seen the column, and Millicent hadn’t had time to formulate what to say, how to explain.

She pulled Hamlet closer for a moment and felt his heart beating solidly against his warm chest. “Tell her I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes, miss. She’s in the front parlor.”

Millicent looked back to Emery. “What?”

Emery smiled. “Yes, miss. She said she was tired of her bedchamber. Between Phillips and me, we carried her down the stairs so she could sit in the parlor for an hour or two. She’s so pleased.”

“I’m sure she is. Tell her I’ll be right down.”

“Yes, miss. Should I send Glenda up to help you with your clothing?”

“Thank you, but I’ll speak to her later.”

Emery walked away and Millicent hugged Hamlet once more before setting him away from her. She rose and looked down at him and said, “I think this means your mistress is on the mend. No doubt I won’t be here much longer.”

Hamlet barked once.

“Does that mean you will be glad or sad?” she asked the spaniel.

He barked twice.

Millicent smiled. “I’ll take that to mean sad.”

A couple of minutes later, Millicent walked into the parlor. Aunt Beatrice sat on the settee, looking splendidly healthy and happy in a dark green dress. The swelling in her face was completely gone and her bruises had faded to where not even a shadow showed. Sitting so straight in the settee, no one would know that she still couldn’t walk without aid.

“Aunt Beatrice, you look wonderful.”

“Thank you, dearie. I couldn’t spend another full day in bed. For the first time in a long time, I feel good. I’ve missed so much this Season. I’m ready to get back to my duties. I plan to be down here every day until I’m ready to go out in Society on my own.”

“That is good news. By the looks of you, it won’t be long.” Millicent noticed the paper she’d crumpled and thrown to the floor now lay folded on her aunt’s lap. It was clear from the pleasant expression on her aunt’s face that she had not yet read the column.

“Aunt Beatrice, I’m afraid I also have some not so good news, too.”

“What’s this? Have you learned more about what has happened to Lady Heathecoute?”

“No. It’s about me.”

She picked up the newspaper and turned it to the column and handed the paper to Beatrice. “Read this.”

Stunned, her aunt looked up at her after scanning the print. “What is this? I didn’t approve this.”

Calmly Millicent said, “And I didn’t write it.”

“I should think not. Someone might think this young lady fleeing Lord Dunraven’s house was you.” Aunt Beatrice looked over the paper to Millicent. Her eyes widened. “It wouldn’t be you, would it? Tell me you were not in Lord Dunraven’s house in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Millicent!” Her aunt threw her hands up in the air and the paper went flying over the back of the sofa.

“Aunt Beatrice, I can explain.”

“How? You can’t. Nothing would be acceptable. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Please tell me this is not true.”

Millicent remained quiet but not upset. She had no regrets about what she’d done, and no doubts that she would do it all again.

“Well say something.”

“It’s true that it was me.”

“Heaven above!” Beatrice fanned her chest with her hand.

“Lord Dunraven wanted to clean my cut before bringing me home and I agreed.” Thankfully that was the truth and that

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