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“How?”

“She concocted a wild story about Harbury falling ill. And loudly proclaimed that she needed Millie to attend her. But people saw Millie and Willard alone in the box. For now Harbury’s “illness” is the primary subject of gossip, but Millie will face ruin if...” Neville flushed.

“If people believe she led him on.”

“Exactly. I would offer...” Neville ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “That is to say, I would like to offer myself...” Neville closed his eyes as if pained.

“Are you volunteering to save Millie's reputation?”

Neville nodded. “That’s why I’ve been looking for you.”

Marriage. Between matrimony-shy Millie and Neville. Neville was seeking Asquith’s permission to propose. Asquith studied his friend.

Neville was fundamentally decent, a good man through and through. And Asquith had long suspected Millie was not nearly as hostile toward him as she liked to pretend.

But he could not approve of Neville’s plan on conjecture alone. He must speak with Millie first.

“Go home,” Asquith said.

“Pardon?” Neville flushed. “I just told you Millie is at Harbury’s and she needs immediate—”

“You’re a mess,” Asquith interrupted. “And you stink.”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied saving your ward.” Neville’s jaw clenched. “Whom I did not warn about Willard’s true nature out of loyalty to you.”

“Never mind me.” He guessed he hadn’t been the only one who provoked Willard. Neville’s appearance and his presence in the pit proved there was more to the story than Neville was letting on. “You are about to ask Millie for her hand. Do you really want to do so wearing pea green with a face smudged with paste?”

Neville winced.

“Your garments are appalling,” Asquith continued, “your gloves a disgrace, and you stink so badly of sweat and fear, my newly acquired horse has taken an instant dislike to you..”

Calder made a noise.

“Go home,” he repeated. “Have a wash, a shave, and, for god’s sake, change your clothes. If you’re going to propose to a lady, you must look your best.”

“Propose...” Neville held out his arms and glanced down at his clothes as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “You’re right.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll go to Harbury’s and have a talk with Millie.”

Neville’s expression turned wary.

“I will argue your case,” Asquith reassured. “But I will not force Millie to take any action she does not wish to take.”

“I understand,” Neville said, though he did not look happy. “You’ll have to enter through the mews. Harbury is supposed to be on the brink of death. Cassandra, Eliza, and Adrian should be there soon, if they aren’t there already.”

Asquith grimaced. He’d hoped to speak with Millie alone.

He and Neville parted ways. Asquith was about to saddle Chanson out of habit when he noticed Calder. Calder. Millie would adore the horse.

And asking for her opinion would give him an excuse to speak with her in private.

He hoped she would accept Neville. But he would offer her a place at Asquith Park if she found she could not. He simply could not force her into a life she did not want. She was not only his ward; she was going to be closely connected family.

His child’s aunt.

He shook his head. His child’s aunt. The deuce.

Millie would murder him if she knew.