“Ladies, let us leave the men to their port, and move this delightful evening to the music room. Miss Hughes has agreed to bless us with her musical skills.”
When the footman pulled out the chair, Haven nearly fell face first onto the table in her eagerness to leave the room.
A blush warmed her skin.
Hell!
Gathering her skirt in her hands, she pushed her chin into the proper upright angle, and sauntered from the room, leaving a brooding duke and a cool-eyed stranger to follow her with their gazes.
She crossed the threshold into the hallway, and Millie fluttered to her side. She took her hands within the warmth of her own.
“Haven, dear, you seem to be having the Devil's own time this evening. You looked as though you'd rather have been shaving a feral cat than sitting at that table.” Again, Millie was far too perceptive, but Haven was relieved.
“It is my fault. I shouldn't have made you attend. I apologize. If you want to excuse yourself, just say the word and you may escape.” Her expression was one of understanding, and contrition.
“Millie, I was just a little nervous, that's all. I’ll admit it’s a little overwhelming, but I’m enjoying myself. Please, don’t worry about me. All I need is a few minutes to get my head screwed on tight, and my mouth sewn shut, and I’ll be right back to my charming self.”
She smiled, and the relief on Millie's face told her she'd said the right thing.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Well, good, I will leave you to screw your brains on, or whatever. When you're ready to return, please join us in the music room.” The poor girl needed comfort, and Millie gently squeezed her hand before offering her a bright smile. With one last glance at a deflated Haven, she turned and flounced after the other women, determined not to fall asleep during what promised to be a dull affair.
Entering the music room behind Melisande, Millie followed the handsomely dressed woman to the chair closest to the pianoforte. Arranging her skirts, she sat beside the younger matron who was glaring at the young ladies by the piano. One chatted animatedly, the other looked on with cold boredom. Curiosity, an old and welcomed companion, stopped by for a visit and wanted to know more about the Kroger twins. Something about them piqued her interest. Also, she couldn't quite rid her conscience of the uneasiness she experienced when the Kroger twins were near.
She fought back a shudder.
Why did they make her ill at ease? Something about them needed closer inspection, but for the first time in her more than sixty years on earth, she couldn't meet the challenge headon. She'd castigate herself later, but for now she would use the nearest tool at her disposal.
Knowing that Melisande was her best source of information on the two, other than the twins themselves, she began, “I am so pleased you could attend our little party. It has been so long since we've entertained here. A shame really, with so many wonderful people living within a thirty-minute ride.”
Without taking her eyes from the women standing beside the pianoforte, Melisande nodded. After a second she faced Millie.
“I agree. We have been neighbors for ages, it is intolerable for such an eligible and affluent man to hermit himself away in this house. After your long overdue visit”—Millie detected a tone of censure—“I told Minerva, a very popular young woman among theTondespite her mob of red hair, that it was high time for the duke to consider matrimony. While he looks young and healthy, one never knows when the good Lord will call one home. It is always best to have an heir and a spare to carry on the Dunham name, and the family honor of Caspire, of course.”
Melisande took a break to fan her face, and Millie took the opportunity to wrest the conversation back to the path of her choosing. While conversing with an old friend about the loins and lodgings of her nephew could be an interesting if somewhat awkward experience, she would rather delve into the deep, icy pool that was Melisande's sister's children.
“How long have your darling niece and nephew been visiting?” She began the line of questioning with a simple inquiry that would open Pandora's box.
“They have been with us for more than a sennight. I do believe they will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. Their father died, and they have no other family in Germany. They shouldn’t be underfoot long. Divinia is of age to find a marriageable peer, and Angelous is a fine catch for any marriage-minded miss of lower nobility.”
Lower nobility. A baron or baronet perhaps.
“They are exquisite and so well mannered. Where have you been hiding them?” Cleverly camouflaging a question within her compliment, she moved the querying along.
Minerva perused the collection of sheet music hidden within the piano bench, which meant the musical portion of the evening would soon begin and conversation would cease. Millie was determined to discover more about the twins. Why? An absurd urgency pushed her to set aside the pleasantries and ask the meaty questions, and to get to the heart of why the Kroger twins were the focus of her attentions.
There was something....
Unable to ask pointed questions without raising suspicion, she allowed the other woman to dictate the speed at which they exchanged sentences. “They really are striking, aren't they?” A sweet, yet sorrowful smile graced Melisande's face. “They have my sister's eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes. She could turn every head in the room with her brilliant blue gaze, and she thrilled in the attention, of course.”
“Who wouldn't?” Millie asked rhetorically.
Melisande’s sweet smile of remembrance soured. “While they have my sister's eyes, they have their father's shocking blond hair, coloring, and height. My sister was a petite thing, couldn't quite reach the bottom of her husband's cravat. They were so mismatched. Other than their love for the sacred Word of God, they had nothing in common.” Melisande's countenance grew contemplative.
Nodding in agreement, Millie coaxed, “They do sound as though they were poles apart. How did they meet?”
Melisande's expression deepened to one of remembering. “It was my second Season, and I was, once again, skirting the fringes of popularity. My horrifically colored hair wasde trop,and very few young men of consequence would deign to speakwith me. Thank God for poor old Reginald. He saw past my carrot curls, and we had twenty wonderful years before he passed.” Millie recognized that Melisande was chasing a rabbit down a hole, but she didn't want to be rude.
