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Chapter One
Yorkshire, England
December 1817
Millie Hollis was resolved to take matters of the heart seriously, and this house party was the perfect place to begin. It was a well-known fact that Lady Dalmeer was a dab hand at making successful connections, and it was with this in mind that Mama had accepted the invitation to her Yuletide house party without consulting Millie—to Millie’s initial dismay. She would never find a husband with her mother peering over her shoulder and directing her every move.
Fortune smiled upon Millie two days before they were set to leave for Yorkshire, when Mama woke with a nasty cold. She would not be able to travel, but neither would she allow Millie to miss a perfectly good opportunity to snag a husband. Papa could not be entrusted with such an important task when he was sure to become easily distracted from the goal. He was unlikely to remain focused on Millie’s matrimonial pursuits when there was sporting to be had, the likes of which were sure to be found on a great estate such as Bellthorne Hall. Therefore, Millie’s sister Helena and her husband, Charles Vale, were recruited for the purpose. Helena, only three years Millie’s senior, was just the sort of indifferent chaperone Millie preferred.
For how else would she be able to kiss the gentlemen at Bellthorne Hall?
While Millie had packed her trunk for the trip, Mama sat nearby, blowing her nose, bemoaning her wretched cold, and repeatedly impressing upon her the three necessary qualities a husband must possess.
Fortune.
Breeding.
And, of course, good sense.
But what of love? What of kissing? If Millie was to spend the remainder of her life with a man and leave the elegant comforts of her home, she would need the gentleman to possess a fourth quality: devotion.
Surely there was no better measure of her connection with a gentleman than to kiss him?
With Mama safely at home in Lancashire, Millie was confident she would find success. It was reasonable to assume Lady Dalmeer would not invite any gentleman to her house party who did not already meet all of Mama’s requirements, which left Millie free to set her sights on her own needs.
As the carriage swept into the main drive at Bellthorne Hall, Helena pressed a hand to her midsection and closed her eyes, her face pale. The travel had not been friendly to her recently pregnant state, causing them to stop twice as much as usual and making them miss nearly the entire first day.
“Shall I tell Tom to slow the carriage?” Charles asked, pressing a hand to his wife’s back.
“We are nearly there,” she whispered. “I do think I will need to take to my room for the evening.”
It was not a blessing, exactly, that the women in Millie’s family were becoming too ill to watch her closely…but neither would she squander this opportunity, presented to her on a silver platter like a juicy orange on Christmas Day.
“Take all the time you need, Helena.” Millie glanced at the sprawling, sand-colored stone house as the carriage drew near—easily the largest house she had ever laid eyes on. The center was robust, with a wide staircase leading to the front door and a domed structure protruding from the ceiling. Wings spread out in either direction with so many windows, Millie couldn’t count them. The entire house was a magnificent display of wealth and symmetry.
“There will be no shortage of gentlemen,” Helena said, noting the breadth of the house. “I promised Mama I would be attentive.”
“I will have Nell, and I’m sure to meet many people this evening.” Millie clenched her hands in her lap. Her dearest friend was here somewhere. When Mama drew ill, Millie had asked if she could join the Prescott family, for they would be setting off for Bellthorne from the same village. But Nell’s only chaperone was to be her older brother, Wesley. While that was sufficient for Nell, it was not respectable for an unmarried young lady to travel in their party.
Wesley was too handsome, too eligible, and too indifferent to her.
He was far nobler than Millie deserved, anyway. Her longstanding tendré for the man had dwindled in recent years as he continued to see her as nothing but his younger sister’s friend. She had not seen much of him of late, as he was always holed away in the study or off with his father managing their tenants. He was a busy man, and Millie and Nell were far too mature to follow him about the countryside any longer.
“Yes. I forgot about Nell.” Helena let out a breath of relief, permitting herself to take to her bed with confidence that she was not leaving Millie entirely alone. Of course, no one commented on the fact that Charles could still have escorted Millie to dinner, because each of them knew that the strength of his devotion to his wife was such that he would not leave her side if she was feeling the least bit poorly. “Thank goodness she has come as well. The two of you move as one, anyway.”
That would not be the case this week. Not with Millie’s grand plans. But Helena need not be made aware of that.
Lady Dalmeer greeted their party when they entered the cavernous foyer, mischief sparkling in her eyes. The situation was promising. This eccentric woman, with her blonde hair intricately piled on her head and lavish jewels circling her throat, buzzed with the energy of a person who held plans.
“You’ll find a notice of events in each of your rooms. If you would like to change for dinner, we’ll be gathering shortly.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Millie dipped in a gracious curtsy before following the housekeeper up the sweeping staircase and into the east wing. Her room was located through a smaller corridor directly off the main one, where four doors lined the square of carpet, facing each other. Helena and Charles’s room was not in the miniature wing, but instead the nearest door in the main passage. It was still close to Millie’s. She hoped Nell was placed in one of the three other rooms in her small cove.
When Millie entered her assigned bedchamber, her maid, Betty, was already waiting inside. The servants had likely arrived hours ago, since they had not needed to stop so frequently. Pink papered the walls with mint trim, and a matching set of plush chairs were angled before the fire. It was feminine and cheerful, adding to her mood.
“Millie, wait.” Helena pressed a hand to her cheek, steadying herself against the wall. She looked ready to faint, sending a wave of concern through Millie. Should she fetch Charles? He had stepped into their room to prepare the bed for Helena to lie down.
“Shall I send for a doctor?” she asked.
