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Wife?
Why did that word zip through him like a galloping horse?
“I did not think you were still a child,” he said.
“Didn’t you?” she countered, an eyebrow lifted. If she was calculating the seven-year difference between their ages, he could not tell.
“A child would not have been invited to this house party.”
“That is true enough.” She curled the holly around the pine, focusing on her fingers. “Why did you accept the invitation, Wesley? Are you hoping to find a bride?”
“My intentions were never relevant. My motivation in attending is purely in relation to my sister.”
“Finding her a husband?”
“No. Protecting her.”
“Naturally.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sweeping the room. “Where is she now?”
He looked at her dryly. “Decorating the antique gallery with Fowell, Lord Dalmeer, and Miss Caldwell.”
Millie nodded slowly.
“She is the only reason I am here,” Wesley said.
“I am certain Lady Dalmeer would be disappointed to hear that. She is likely counting you among her most eligible gentlemen.”
Wesley coughed, dropping the bough before it could be secured. Pine needles scattered over the floor and a few red berries dislodged and rolled away.
“It is not such a frightening thought, I hope,” Millie said, circling the table to help him clean the mess. When the stray needles and berries had been tossed into the hearth, they lifted the bough and she held it in place while Wesley secured one end.
He then fixed the center to the top of the angled mantelpiece. His attention was on Millie as he stepped closer to her end. She did not release the bough, but continued to watch his approach. They had established that each of them were of marrying age, and something about the conversation thickened the air around them.
He could not honestly be attracted to Mildred Hollis, could he? It was undeniable that she was a beautiful woman, her dark hair a stark contrast to creamy skin and pink lips. He did not know anyone with brown eyes that seemed to reach into him the way hers did. Still, she had long been beautiful and never before had he found himself drawn to her. It was likely a case of her being the most familiar person in the house to him. Yet, he could not deny how thoroughly she occupied his mind.
Wesley reached for the end of the bough Millie held and secured it to the mantel. He bent his neck so he could easily see into her eyes. “What are you looking for in a husband, Millie? If I am to keep an eye out for your secret suitor, it might be helpful to know what I am looking for.”
“You mentioned you would only pay attention when it was relevant to your bedchamber.”
“Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
She swallowed. “My mother asked me to find a man with good breeding, good sense, and a good fortune.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Is that all?”
“I, on the other hand, would like for him to be hopelessly devoted to me, but that was not my mother’s requirement.”
“A small ask,” Wesley conceded. “You wish to marry for love, then?”
“I do.” She ran a small pine sprig through her fingers. “And you, Wesley?”
“I am not looking for a wife.”
“But if you were?”
He considered the question. It was not something he had meant to put much thought into, but he could not deny that lately the matter had been on his mind.
Or rather…it had been for the last few days.
