“Oh, that’s not at all necessary.” Millie waved her hand in the same dismissive gesture she’d just learned from him. “Do go on.”
Adrian studied her for a moment before nodding. He turned back to the footman. “Miss Millicent will wait for her sister in the house. You may expect me to return for her before three.”
“Very good, my lord.”
After the footman helped her down, she paused on the sidewalk and watched the curricle blend into traffic.
“If you’d come with me into the parlor,” the footman suggested, “I will bring you something warm to drink.”
Millie shook her head no. Following the thrill of a brisk ride, she couldn’t bear to be trapped inside again so soon. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a quick turn inside the square.”
“But it’s cold, Miss.” The footman gazed doubtfully at the barren landscape. “And I’m not sure—”
“You may watch me from the window if you must,” she mimicked Adrian’s authoritative tone. “And I give you leave to intervene should you see anything untoward.”
She didn’t wait for him to answer.
Instead, she took advantage of the break in the flow of carriages and horses and quickly picked her way across the dung-riddled street. Thank heavens she had put on those clunky pattens after all! For every inconvenience, there was an ingenious solution, if one could but discern it. Perhaps, within every experience, there was a lesson to learn, too.
So what message could she take from today’s unexpected excursion?
Seize the opportunity?
She passed through the gate and paused to inhale. The aroma of winter broke through the less pleasant smells that had dominated the street. She tried to capture and preserve this temporary, coveted sense of freedom in her heart.
Not far from where she stood, a red-breasted robin trilled from a leafless branch.
No, not leafless.
Several brown leaves swung in the breeze, waiting for a gust strong enough to untether them from the only source of life they’d ever known.
Expectantly, she watched, hoping to catch the moment one fell. Finally, a sudden breeze sent a single leaf—shriveled, dry, nearly gray—spiraling towards the ground. The leaf moved, not with the pleasant, meandering drift Millie associated with yellowing October foliage, but in a weary, dispirited drop.
Millie wrapped herself with her arms, both to hold in heat and to stave off the cold. Her formerly cheerful anticipation gave way to a creeping sense of melancholy.
How could sheseize the opportunity?
Much like that leaf, she felt cold and alone and on her way to a solitary end.
Would there ever be any place she actually belonged?
*
Neville paced thelength of Harbury’s London library, following a light blue line in Harbury’s red-patterned carpet. Paying an uninvited call was unlike him, even though this visit was urgent and necessary.
Harbury, Neville’s maternal cousin, had recently offered Neville’s paternal uncle Farnsworth the much-coveted living at St. Margaret’s, the largest church on the Harbury estate.
This morning, however, Neville had received a letter from his uncle Farnsworth informing him Farnsworth intended to refuse the gift—unless Neville warned Harbury that Neville had secretly placed John under Farnsworth’s care.
Farnsworth also insisted Neville explain the reasons why.
In other words, he had to tell Harbury all about the accusations against John.
As Neville continued to wear a groove in the carpet, he weighed how much of Willard’s involvement in John’s situation he should reveal.
Apart from Willard possessing John’s ring, he had no proof of Willard’s involvement. And, he hadn’t yet had the chance to ask Asquith’s permission to reveal Willard’s past misdeeds. Nor had he yet been able to arrange an opportunity for the witness he’d found to identify Willard, though he hoped to that would change tonight.
Perhaps he should just leave his card and request a later audience?