The Nightingale Girls - By Donna Douglas Page 0,60

Mummy,’ she sighed. ‘I’m not going to leave you.’

Chapter Eighteen

‘CECILY RIDGEMONT’S FINALLY managed to get herself engaged to Viscount Tarlington, I see.’ The Dowager Countess of Rettingham scanned the Announcements column of The Times with an expression Millie had come to dread. ‘I dare say her mother will be utterly insufferable now.’ She peered at Millie over the top of the newspaper. ‘You do realise that could have been you, Amelia, if only you’d tried harder?’

Millie sighed. ‘Granny, I only ever met Freddie Tarlington once, and he was completely mad.’

‘Don’t exaggerate, child.’

‘I’m not. Don’t you remember, he threw his shoes out of the window at the Grosvenor House Ball, then spent the evening sobbing behind a curtain?’

‘That was nothing more than high spirits,’ her grandmother dismissed.

‘He was taken away in a private ambulance, and not seen for the rest of the Season.’

Lady Rettingham’s mouth tightened. ‘I admit he is a rather – unfortunate young man,’ she conceded. ‘But when he stands to inherit an estate half the size of Somerset, one can surely overlook a little eccentricity. Cecily Ridgemont certainly can, it seems.’

Millie caught her father’s eye across the breakfast table and smiled.

‘I’m glad you two can find humour in the situation,’ her grandmother snapped. ‘I sometimes feel as if I’m the only one who takes Amelia’s prospects seriously.’ She laid aside her newspaper and frowned at her granddaughter as she rose from her seat and headed for the sideboard. ‘Another helping? Really, Amelia, do you have to eat so much? It’s most unbecoming.’

‘Sorry, Granny.’ Millie served herself more scrambled eggs and devilled kidneys from the silver chafing dishes. ‘But I really am starving.’

‘Doesn’t that wretched institution feed you at all?’ Her grandmother made a face of disgust as Millie returned to the table with a laden plate.

‘Barely.’

‘Well, it’s too bad.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with having a healthy appetite.’ Millie’s father winked at her.

‘It’s not just her appetite. Look at her, Henry. Look at her hair, look at her hands. They belong to a housemaid, not a lady.’

Millie looked down at her work-roughened hands. It was difficult to keep them white and soft when they were in water and disinfectant all day.

‘That’s what comes of putting them to better use than flower arranging, I expect,’ her father said.

The Dowager Countess sighed. ‘Really, Henry, I would have thought I could count on you for your support. It’s bad enough that you’ve allowed her to stay here over the New Year, rather than insisting she goes to the house party at Lyford.’

Millie rolled her eyes. Her grandmother hadn’t stopped talking about the fact that Millie had turned down an invitation to a country house party given by the Duke and Duchess of Claremont. ‘Granny, I didn’t want to go. I’d rather stay at home than spend three days shooting.’

‘That’s as may be, but one doesn’t turn down an invitation from the Claremonts. Especially not when there will be so many eligible young men in attendance.’

‘Perhaps you should have gone in my place, then?’ Millie suggested crossly. ‘You could have picked one out for me.’

‘I have already selected several. Much good it has done me, since you continue to show a wilful lack of interest in your future.’

‘I’ve already decided what my future is going to be, Granny,’ Millie reminded her. ‘I’m going to be a nurse.’

‘Pshh!’ Her grandmother curled her lip.

‘Please, can we stop arguing?’ Henry Rettingham intervened. ‘Amelia has agreed to go to the Claremonts’ New Year’s Eve Ball with us, Mother. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunity for her to find her Prince Charming there.’

Or another chance to be paraded around in front of potential suitors like a prize cow at a meat market, Millie thought, spearing a mushroom in disgust.

At least her friend Sophia, the Claremonts’ daughter, would be there. They had been at boarding school together, and jointly endured the London Season – although with more success for Sophia, who had managed to fall in love with the Duke of Cleveland’s son and heir.

Millie was also looking forward to seeing Sophia’s brother Sebastian. He had initially escorted his sister to many of the Season’s endless events. But since Sophia had proved so immediately popular, he had gallantly offered to squire Millie instead.

They had had so much fun, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all as they stumbled and blundered their way around the dance floors of Mayfair and Belgravia. As a mere second son, Seb had been spared much unwelcome attention from ambitious debutantes and their mothers.