Her mother had made it very clear that the
ton
was not just about who you were or who you knew; it was very much about everyone’s secrets.
Grace began to hum and Millie could see she was woolgathering.
‘Grace.’
The young maid snapped out of her daydream and began quickly brushing Millie’s hair. Her mistress sat silent for several more seconds before letting out a sigh and reaching up to take hold of the hand wielding the brush.
‘Grace, you were about to tell me about Lord Brooke and why I won’t be seeing him at Strathmore House,’ she said, trying to maintain her good humour.
Grace looked at her blankly, and then Millie saw her eyes light up with realisation.
Grace clicked her tongue. ‘Sorry, Miss. Well, you see, Lord Brooke doesn’t live at Strathmore House any more.’ She leaned in closer and whispered in Millie’s ear, ‘I heard from another girl who works in another house that his father threw him and his brother out. She said that they were always getting drunk and coming home at silly hours and making an awful noise.’
Millie’s toes curled up in her slippers. This was exactly the kind of wicked gossip she wanted to hear.
‘Really? How dreadful,’ she replied, making sure she looked deeply concerned.
Grace nodded her head.
‘Well, last summer the duke found Lord Brooke asleep on the floor in the front hall at eight in the morning. Even the footmen couldn’t rouse him. His father said enough was enough and made him and his brother pack their bags. Can you imagine that, a duke having to scrape his son up off the floor?’
Millie was not about to tell Grace the mess Charles had made of himself on numerous occasions in the past few years. Only she was privy to that piece of information. And that was only because her bedroom window was the easiest for her drunken brother to climb through without being in danger of falling and breaking his stupid neck. He still owed her for the many times she had held his head over a bucket while he lost the contents of an evening’s wild drinking.
‘So Lord Brooke and Mr Radley took up rooms in Bird Street,’ Grace said finishing her story.
A pair of blue eyes stared back at Millie as she looked at herself in the mirror and held her own private conversation with her reflection.
When I visit at Lucy’s house, Lord Brooke will not be in residence. Good. I am sure it will make things easier for me and also for him. Good. Yes, it will be much easier for everyone.
Damn.
How was she supposed to charm him into being her champion in the shark-infested waters of the
ton
if he was not going to be around to see how good a friend she was to his sister?
She chastised herself for thinking of using Lady Lucy in such a cold and calculating way. It was wrong of her to see Lucy as the means to her devilishly handsome and very popular brother, especially when Lucy Radley happened to be the only friend she had in the whole of London.
Millie had no cousins on her father’s side, and only once on the long voyage from India had her mother made any mention of her relatives in Northamptonshire. There appeared to be a dark cloud over that side of the family, so she had not pressed her mother further on the subject. Apart from her uncle, there had been no one else to greet them the morning their ship berthed at the East India Docks.
Besides, it would be fun to have a friend who knew that the Romans had built Hadrian’s Wall. There were times she despaired of the females her own age. All they could think of day and night was how they were going to sink their claws into some unfortunate bachelor and his bank account.
After she had finished dressing and dismissed Grace, Millie retrieved a large teak box from under her bed and placed it on the table by the window. There were no flowers from Lord Brooke this morning, which left her feeling oddly disappointed. It would have been nice to know he still thought enough of her to send them at least one more time after she had
ton
was not just about who you were or who you knew; it was very much about everyone’s secrets.
Grace began to hum and Millie could see she was woolgathering.
‘Grace.’
The young maid snapped out of her daydream and began quickly brushing Millie’s hair. Her mistress sat silent for several more seconds before letting out a sigh and reaching up to take hold of the hand wielding the brush.
‘Grace, you were about to tell me about Lord Brooke and why I won’t be seeing him at Strathmore House,’ she said, trying to maintain her good humour.
Grace looked at her blankly, and then Millie saw her eyes light up with realisation.
Grace clicked her tongue. ‘Sorry, Miss. Well, you see, Lord Brooke doesn’t live at Strathmore House any more.’ She leaned in closer and whispered in Millie’s ear, ‘I heard from another girl who works in another house that his father threw him and his brother out. She said that they were always getting drunk and coming home at silly hours and making an awful noise.’
Millie’s toes curled up in her slippers. This was exactly the kind of wicked gossip she wanted to hear.
‘Really? How dreadful,’ she replied, making sure she looked deeply concerned.
Grace nodded her head.
‘Well, last summer the duke found Lord Brooke asleep on the floor in the front hall at eight in the morning. Even the footmen couldn’t rouse him. His father said enough was enough and made him and his brother pack their bags. Can you imagine that, a duke having to scrape his son up off the floor?’
Millie was not about to tell Grace the mess Charles had made of himself on numerous occasions in the past few years. Only she was privy to that piece of information. And that was only because her bedroom window was the easiest for her drunken brother to climb through without being in danger of falling and breaking his stupid neck. He still owed her for the many times she had held his head over a bucket while he lost the contents of an evening’s wild drinking.
‘So Lord Brooke and Mr Radley took up rooms in Bird Street,’ Grace said finishing her story.
A pair of blue eyes stared back at Millie as she looked at herself in the mirror and held her own private conversation with her reflection.
When I visit at Lucy’s house, Lord Brooke will not be in residence. Good. I am sure it will make things easier for me and also for him. Good. Yes, it will be much easier for everyone.
Damn.
How was she supposed to charm him into being her champion in the shark-infested waters of the
ton
if he was not going to be around to see how good a friend she was to his sister?
She chastised herself for thinking of using Lady Lucy in such a cold and calculating way. It was wrong of her to see Lucy as the means to her devilishly handsome and very popular brother, especially when Lucy Radley happened to be the only friend she had in the whole of London.
Millie had no cousins on her father’s side, and only once on the long voyage from India had her mother made any mention of her relatives in Northamptonshire. There appeared to be a dark cloud over that side of the family, so she had not pressed her mother further on the subject. Apart from her uncle, there had been no one else to greet them the morning their ship berthed at the East India Docks.
Besides, it would be fun to have a friend who knew that the Romans had built Hadrian’s Wall. There were times she despaired of the females her own age. All they could think of day and night was how they were going to sink their claws into some unfortunate bachelor and his bank account.
After she had finished dressing and dismissed Grace, Millie retrieved a large teak box from under her bed and placed it on the table by the window. There were no flowers from Lord Brooke this morning, which left her feeling oddly disappointed. It would have been nice to know he still thought enough of her to send them at least one more time after she had
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