“You broke our betrothal to save me, and then fled London?”
Milly did not look at him as he spoke, but kept her eyes on the window.
The hands that grabbed her were hard. She was turned to face him.
“You should have come to me! My father was a powerful man, and I was not without influence.”
His eyes blazed as Milly shook his hands free. “I did what I believed was right.”
“How noble of you!”
His words took her breath away. How dared he belittle what she had done?
“I loved you. I would have done whatever I needed to keep you safe.”
“You loved what you believed I was!” Milly spat the words at him, enjoying the flood of heat that accompanied her anger. “You loved the docile, innocent young woman. The lady who would be a pleasing accessory upon your arm. That was not love!”
“It matters not what kind of love it was, only that I cared for you.” He gritted the words out between clenched teeth. “What matters is you did not trust me to protect you. What matters is that you will never know what kind of love we may have had.”
Milly dragged her eyes from his. “I could not allow him to murder you.”
“Had you come to me, I would have confronted your father and gained the man’s name. I would have got to him first, my lady. Did you think of that?”
She hadn’t. Her instinctive reaction had been to save him and flee. Dear Lord, she had not thought at all. Should she have gone to him? What did it matter now, as she could not go back to that day. What was done was done.
Joseph looked at the long golden braid that hung over Milly’s shoulder. He remembered how it had shone when the sunlight hit it. How it felt when he touched a curl. He’d once loved her hair. Seeing it now made him want to roar like a wild beast.
Damn her father. Damn this unknown man, but more than anyone, damn her for not coming to him. Now he knew the truth, it offered him no relief, other than that she had not left him for another man. Her actions had been to protect him first and foremost, and one day soon he would likely acknowledge that, but now all he could see was the pain she had caused them both.
When he’d joined her reluctantly in the carriage as the rain had begun to pour down, he’d found her sleeping, and she had continued to do so for another hour. Joseph had never taken his eyes from her.
She had not slept peacefully, instead twitching and murmuring. Her hands had clenched and unclenched, and Joseph had wanted to wake her from her dreams, but had refrained. Coward that he was, he was not ready to face her so soon. Not when he was now looking at Lady Millicent.
“I did what I believed was right.”
“You were wrong,” he said, and then turned away from her.
Joseph did not speak to her again. He did not feel reasonable, and the anger that was never far when she was near had flared. Time, he decided. He needed time to think and find the rational side of his nature.
The tension in the carriage was thick enough to slice with a blade as finally they pulled into the courtyard of their accommodations for the night. Joseph stepped down into the dark, and held out a hand to Milly. She wanted to ignore him, but he made it impossible.
“I will find a place to sleep.”
Her words set the temper he had thought controlled to flaring once more.
“Do not try me, Lady Millicent. You will sleep as befits the daughter of a Marquess.”
That bloody chin lifted, and she did not back away from him. Another change. The old Milly would have bowed to his every demand.
“I will not allow you to pay for my rooms.”
“You will. Now shut up and get inside.”
“Do not make the mistake of thinking me subservient, Lord Ellsworth.”
He glared down at her but she did not cower. Joseph simply grabbed her arm and dragged her inside.
“Good day to you both.”
