Of course, Mr. Winter never interfered directly when the squire went into a rage, else he would have lost his position.
However, the hiding spots Millie chose were always in proximity to the gamekeeper’s cottage. And on countless occasions, Mr. Winter had lifted her out from whatever hiding place of hers he’d accidentally discovered. He never sent her immediately back to the house, though. Instead, he’d tell her sternly, “If you are going to plague me, you must make yourself of good use.”
When she was young, she’d carry his ammunition, following behind him as he’d instructed, spreading out her steps so that her own feet would sink into Mr. Winter’s muddy impressions, thereby keeping her from the worst of the muck.
When she grew older, he’d given her her own rifle.
Together, they trained. The closer she came to the bull’s eye, the brighter his crooked smile would beam.No fox would dare disturb the hens on Miss Millicent’s watch!
Or so he’d say.
Mr. Winter was a large part of the reason she was able to survive.
Neville’s station in life was very different from the gamekeeper’s. But didn’t Neville’s training of Asquith prove he was the same kind of man? Quietly skilled, insistent on high standards, but ready to both provide haven and education, even at high risk to himself.
Wearily, she knelt by the side of his chair, not in supplication but in awe.
Neville stirred, his lids lifting halfway. Then, he smiled, small, winsome, and dear.
Hesitantly, she returned the smile. For a moment they were caught in a quiet, lovely place. The perfect hiding spot. The calm before the storm.
Then he blinked, widened his eyes, grasped the chair’s arms with white-knuckle fists, and sat up straight.
“Sst,” she whispered. “Sst.” Her mother had always quieted them with the soothing sound. “Everyone is asleep.”
“As you should be!” he whispered back.
“I was asleep. But I dreamt of you and then…”
“You dreamt?” He flushed. “Of me?”
She nodded.
For a moment, he appeared mystified. Then, he shook his head. “I’m sorry you caught me dozing.” He straightened. “And you need to go back to bed.”
“Do I?” She adjusted her wrapper. “Cassie said she left me this night rail just in case I woke and felt the urge to…how did she put it?Nocturnally wander.”
His face remained impassive, but she heard a small, involuntary groan.
“Earlier, I told you I needed time.” She wanted to touch him, but she dared not be so bold. Not yet. “But perhaps what I really need is information.”
He studied her warily as she propped herself up on her arm. She slid out of her kneeling position, but kept her legs tucked in by her side.
“Right now, you want…this.” She waved her free hand between them. “Imay even wantthis. Both of us may even have talked ourselves into believing there is no other choice.”
“Oh, there is another choice,” he said bitterly.
“When I said I would prefer banishment,” she started carefully, “I hadn’t truly thought through the consequences. But ever since I awoke, they’ve been running through my mind.”
His gaze softened.
She smiled, sheepish and wobblily. “I can’t stop thinking about missing Lenora and Nettie coming into their own. And losing time with the children Eliza and Cassie will have. And,” She peeked at him. “losing our nascent friendship before it has had time to blossom.”
His face went completely slack.
“Banishment would allow me to keep what I value. But it would also force me to give up what I—” She glanced away. “What I care about most.”
“Millie. Do you mean to say… Are you actually considering…”