Read Borrowed Dreams (Scottish Dream Trilogy) Online
Authors: May McGoldrick,Jan Coffey,Nicole Cody,Nikoo McGoldrick,James McGoldrick
“What else should I tell her?” the servant
asked, looking a little frayed.
“You should go up to the house and
rest your voice.”
The young woman turned around. “You
should go up to the house and rest your—”
“Not her,” the dowager snapped,
having reached the young woman. “You!”
“I?” The attendant turned around,
confused.
“Yes, you,” Ohenewaa answered,
having reached the halfway point as well.
With a curtsy to each woman, the
attendant hurried off toward the house.
Ohenewaa turned her gaze on the
dowager. “You should know straightaway that I do not respond well to being
summoned.”
“That was no summons. ‘Twas a
request. But no matter,” Beatrice said impatiently, waving her hand. “I just
wanted to spend some time with you, to get to know you a little, but I am
afraid I am not very good at expressing myself patiently when I want
something.”
“Abruptness is part of your
nature,” Ohenewaa commented.
“I know.”
“And rudeness, I think.”
“Sometimes that is true.”
“And stubbornness.”
“When ‘tis called for.” The dowager
frowned suspiciously. “And how is it that you know me so well?”
She shrugged. “I know your son.
Now, what was it that you wanted?”
“If you could put up with a cranky
old woman, may I keep your company while you walk and gather your plants and
herbs?”
“Since you ask this way, why not? I
think the eyes of two cranky old women may be far better than one.”
*****
Millicent burst through the library
doors, and Lyon smiled as the energy she exuded displaced all trace of quiet in
the room. It was a welcome change, and he studied every aspect of her
appreciatively. The dark blue dress had a fitted bodice and low neckline. She
was wearing a thin ribbon of a matching color around her neck.
“Sir Richard just went upstairs to
change for dinner,” she said. “The dowager is on her way downstairs. I thought
we should take two carriages to Solgrave, as—”
“For days now I have been desperate
for a moment alone with you.”
Millicent came to an abrupt halt in
the middle of the room and stood motionless.
Since the dowager and Maitland’s
arrival, either she or Lyon had been constantly on the go. Even in their
bedchamber, time had been fleeting, for Millicent seemed determined to come up
late and escape early in the morning.
Lyon knew what she was doing: She
was avoiding giving him the answer he was after.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
A soft blush crept into her cheeks.
She smiled. “You look rather handsome yourself.”
“I have a small gift here for you.”
She glanced curiously at the box
sitting beside him on the table. “You have given me enough, Lyon. I don’t
expect any—”
“I know. I want you to have it
anyway. Please.”
She approached hesitantly. “But what is the occasion?”
“I need no occasion to give my wife
a gift.”
Millicent reached his side. “But I don’t have anything for you.”
“You have given me more than I
deserve.” He took her hand in his, and she sat down shyly on his lap. He handed
her the box, and she opened it slowly.
She gasped in shock and closed the
top quickly. “These are so beautiful. I cannot accept them.”
Shaking his head, Lyon opened the
box for her again.
“Yes, you can.” He took out one of
the diamond necklaces and laid it across the palm of her hand. “Will you wear
this for me tonight?”
“But Lyon, this is too beautiful. I
could never do it justice.”
“Love, this is only a string of
cold stones. By themselves they are nothing. You will give them life by wearing
them near your heart.” He turned her face and brushed away a single tear that
had escaped her silvery gray eyes. “You are so beautiful. Please let me do
this.”
She leaned into him and kissed his
lips, and Lyon realized that he was like those stones in some ways. She was
giving
him
life by holding him near her heart.
****
The round face of the baby sleeping
so peacefully against Rebecca’s chest fascinated Millicent. This past year had
gone by so quickly.
“He is truly an angel,” she said
quietly.
“In his sleep,” Rebecca quipped,
caressing the soft mat of dark hair on her son’s head. “You should have heard
him half an hour ago. That was why Mrs. Trent came to fetch me.”
They were still an hour from
dinner, and Millicent had left Lyon and the dowager and Sir Richard chatting
comfortably with Lord Stanmore while she came up to the nursery to visit with
Rebecca. She didn’t know how to broach the subject, but she really needed her friend’s
advice. She had been putting off answering Lyon’s question for three days. She
absently touched the elegant necklace at her throat. Although he was not
pressuring her, she knew Lyon wanted to know if she was going to Baronsford with him. And despite everything between them, she was still terrified.
“I cannot believe how much he has
grown since I saw him last.” She looked up from the child’s face to the proud
mother’s. “But there is something about you that has changed, too. I don’t
know. But you look to have this look about you. Are you…?”
Biting her lip, Millicent let the
question hang in between them. The immediate reddening of Rebecca’s face was
impossible to miss.
“You
are
with child again!”
Millicent blurted out excitedly. “Is it true?”
The young mother smiled, rising to
her feet. “I must be so transparent.”
“When? When are you having this
baby?” Millicent whispered her question for the fear of waking up the sleeping
child.
“Sometime toward the end of autumn.
We just found out.” She laid the baby in his crib and nodded to the nursemaid,
who sat sewing by the fire. “Stanmore is thrilled, of course. We brought James
home from Eton on a short holiday to celebrate. He is quite excited, but wants
some kind of guarantee for another brother.”
Tiptoeing out, the two of them left
the nursery. In the outer room though, rather than going straight out, Rebecca
turned around and took Millicent’s hands in hers. “I want to hear about you and
your marriage. You look wonderful. You look happy.”
“I am, surprisingly. Very happy.”
Rebecca gave her a fierce hug. “I
am so glad to hear it. My Lord, to think that I was so wrong about Aytoun!” She
pulled back and smiled. “When we were in Scotland, I received a letter from
Reverend and Mrs. Trimble, praising your husband to the skies. Just spending
the few short minutes with him downstairs, I can see he is nothing like the man
rumor had portrayed.”
“If there was any truth to those
rumors, or if they were simply vicious gossip, I cannot say, Rebecca. I cannot
defend the man my husband may have been before.”
“Do not be discouraged, though, if
you hear more talk,” Rebecca warned. “The idleness of the
ton
provides a
breeding ground for malicious slander.”
“I will not allow them to hurt him.
I will fight anyone with my bare hands if I hear them besmirch his name now.”
She let out an unsteady breath. “He has come so far in his recovery, but he
still has a rocky road ahead of him. But I shall tell you one thing: Lyon
Pennington has already proved to be a wonderful husband and a great friend to
me. I just cannot describe in words how much I have come to value him.”
Rebecca looped an arm through
Millicent’s. “Just watching him downstairs, watching the way his gaze follows
you around the room, the way he stops the very word on his tongue to listen
when you are speaking across the way, I know that he values you, too. And I know how difficult it is sometimes to put these things into the right words. But from my own experience, I can say that this is what love is all about.”
“Love?” Millicent repeated under
her breath.
“I would say that it is clear you
love him, Millicent. And I think he shares your affection.”
Millicent couldn’t stop the sudden
tears from rushing into her eyes. She turned away from her friend.
“What is wrong?” Alarmed, Rebecca
came around to face her.
“I am so confused and terrified
and…and…I just don’t know what to do.” She stabbed at the tears. “I am so
desperate to do the right thing for him and for myself, but my heart just
doesn’t let me carry it through.”
“Sit with me.” Rebecca tugged her
hand, drawing her down on a settee beside her. “I want you to tell me what is
wrong.”
She let out couple of shaky
breaths, trying desperately to calm her nerves. “He…Lyon has to go back to Baronsford. He has asked me to go along with him.”
“What is terrifying about that?”
Millicent shook her head. “The
problem is that I entered into this marriage knowing that it might not last
forever. I made them agree that if Lyon were to improve then I would be
released from the marriage. I even had Sir Oliver Birch put those conditions in
the marriage contract so there would be no objection afterward.”
“You were trying to protect
yourself, in case he turned out to be not the man that you expected. But that was then, and this is now.”
“You don’t understand. I was also
trying to protect him, too. You see, he is an earl, and I am just…” She shook
her head. “He needs beauty, style, charm to grace his arm in public, not
someone—”
“Stop!” Rebecca snapped. “Stop and
listen to what you are saying, to what you are doing to yourself. You are not
lacking in beauty or style or charm.”
“If I could only make myself
believe that.”
“Then you must!” Rebecca spoke
passionately. “Millicent, you cannot allow Wentworth to continue to ruin your
life. It is not you talking this nonsense, but him. During your marriage to
that degenerate pig, he tried to strip you of your confidence, of your sense of
self-worth. He tried to crush you in person and in spirit. And now, after his death, you are allowing him continue to hurt you…even from the grave.”
The truth behind her words made
Millicent shiver. She forced herself to push away the murky cloud that was
enveloping her. She wanted to be able to look into the future without fear. But it was so difficult.
“Your husband needs you. You say he
has asked you to go. He wants you to go.” Rebecca took both of Millicent’s
hands and squeezed them as she looked into her face. “If for no other reason,
go with him and think of it as a test. Think of it as a way of proving to yourself
that you have done away with Wentworth’s ghost for eternity.”
*****
The valets backed out of the
carriage after seating Lyon comfortably for the ride home. Millicent climbed in
immediately, and the door closed behind her.
“I like them very much.” Lyon admitted. “Both of them. Rebecca is charming and completely unpretentious…like you. And Stanmore’s progressive views and the way he presents them makes me happy that he sits in the
House of Lords. If we only had more people there like him.”
“I believe the feeling was mutual.”
She sat on the seat beside him. “They really enjoyed your company, too.”
“Just the two of us?” Lyon asked when the carriage started off.
“I sent everyone else in the other
one. I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted you all to myself for the ride back.”
Lyon wrapped his left arm around
Millicent’s shoulder and slid her across the seat closer to him. “This is far
too promising for such a short ride. Tell the groom to go back to Melbury Hall
by way of London.”
Millicent’s laughter rippled over
him. Something had happened tonight. Somehow, during the time that Millicent
and Rebecca had spent upstairs, his wife had shed the anxiety that had weighed
her down of late. He took her hand and raised it to his lips.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For smiling, and for wanting to be
with me, and for these obvious plans of seduction.”
Her silvery eyes danced with
merriment in the dim light of the carriage. She leaned toward him and brushed
her lips against his. “And I thought I was being so devious.”
He caught her chin and captured her
mouth for a much deeper kiss. “This shall be a challenge.”
She laughed softly and pressed her
body closer as the carriage rolled down the dark country lane. “I do not think
there is much that I can do with what little time it takes to go to Melbury
Hall. But the dowager and Sir Richard have already told me how ready they are
to retire. So when we get back, there is always the prospect of our bed.”
Her hand moved beneath his
overcoat, and Lyon felt every muscle in his body flex and come to life.
“I don’t know if I can wait that
long. There is something about the motion of a moving carriage,” he said
seductively.
The carriage turned onto the road
leading to Melbury Hall.
“You make it sound quite tempting,
but our bed will have to do for tonight, I think.” She stretched up and kissed
his neck. “But of course, we shall have plenty of time to try out your carriage
idea on our ride to Baronsford.”
He turned to her. “You are coming?”
“If you still want me to come.”
“Is this answer enough?” he
whispered huskily, crushing his mouth down on hers.
*****
“I am so sorry to do this to you,
m’lady, just before you go away. But with my grandmum sick and Baronsford being so far away in Scotland and all, there was no way I could get back if she—”
“You don’t have to explain any
more,” Millicent said gently. “I understand perfectly, Violet. Don’t give it
another thought.”
“But I feel so bad about it,
m’lady.” She turned her face and began straightening brushes on the dresser and
then wiping specks of invisible dust.
“You shouldn’t,” Millicent assured
her. “In fact, I have been meaning to talk to you. I’ve been worrying about
you. You’ve not been looking yourself lately. Why don’t you take a holiday
while we’re in Scotland and go give your mother a hand with your grandmother in
St. Albans?”