“She has no wish to do so, as I understand it, Lady Mowbray?”
“No, she has no time for society anymore. She will do so for me, but it no longer brings her the joy it once did.”
“She is different in many ways from the woman I once knew,” Joseph said, deciding he had no scruples about discussing Milly with her aunt if it yielded answers.
“Vastly different. I know she has furnished me with an abbreviated version of her reasons for leaving, as did her father. I also know nothing of the years she was gone, although there are times she appears like a caged animal. Restless and ready to run should the opportunity present itself.”
“It will take time,” Joseph said, watching Milly chat with his family.
“I’m not sure she will ever truly be settled. But it’s my hope that she will find a comfortable compromise.”
Joseph didn’t think there was ever going to be a time when he felt comfortable around Milly. She made him aware of her every move, her every word.
“Please excuse me for a moment, Lord Ellsworth, I see a friend who is signaling me.”
“Of course.” As Joseph watched Lady Mowbray walk away, his thoughts were on her niece.
“Lord Ellsworth, how wonderful to see you here this evening. What an extraordinary performance we are being treated to thus far.”
Joseph greeted Mrs. Gillies and her daughter.
“Indeed.”
His eyes found Milly now surrounded by a group of ladies. Rory, he noted, had been cornered by two men. Was she all right?
“My lord, do tell me how dear Lady Millicent is faring, now she is back in society? We did wonder... she has been gone so long, and the rumors, you know....”
“She has been unwell.”
“For four years? One wonders what illness could have taken so long.”
“She has been recuperating.” Joseph wasn’t sure why he was defending her, or why he cared what this woman or anyone thought about Milly, but he was... he did.
The woman made a little mewling sound that made Joseph’s teeth snap together.
“Well, perhaps your broken engagement is for the best then, my lord. Such weakness would surely carry to your heirs.”
“Excuse me. It is time to return to our seats.” He bowed, and walked away, uncaring that his words had been clipped and rude. He made his way to where Milly stood, and it was only as he drew near he realized that it was Lady Lyon and her daughter she spoke with.
“But four years, Lady Millicent. What illness could possibly have kept you from us for so long? Of course, it was for the best your betrothal was broken. A man like the earl cannot be expected to wait.”
He reached them as Milly answered.
“It was an illness of the brain, my lady. I was quite mad for some time. Yes indeed, I drooled and rocked for days on end. The doctors feared the worst, but as you can see there are no lasting effects... although, every now and then—”
“Excellent.” Joseph interrupted Milly before she could get into details of her illness. “I found you, my lady. Come, we must return, as the intermission is over,” Joseph said, taking Milly’s arm in his and leading her away from the now pale-faced Lyon women.
“Breathe,” he said, and was rewarded by a slow drawing in of air, which Milly then exhaled. He shot her a look as they approached his box. Her face was calm, impassive, but her hands were clenched into fists.
“What did she say to upset you?”
“It matters not.”
“It matters to me.”
She removed her hand from his arm and entered the box before him, leaving Joseph to follow and wonder what the hell was said to her that had drained the color from her cheeks and left her hands shaking.
Milly got through the performance by smiling. It was not easy, and by the end her cheeks were hurting. Joseph had sat quietly at her side, his gaze alternating between the performance and her. She had never looked his way once.
