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He held both her hands tightly, hope making himself light as his rapid, shallow breaths made his heart pound in his ears. If Tillie could help him…
“Oh my goodness gracious,” Lady Farthington’s voice cut through his hopes and dreams. “Is this what I think it is?”
Tillie yanked her hands from his, spinning around. “Mother!”
For a moment, he took in Lady Farthington, her eyes dancing with joy.
But just behind her stood Millie. Her face had gone completely pale as she swayed on her feet. He took a step toward her. Did she think he’d just proposed to her sister?
This couldn’t be happening.
* * *
Millie triedto keep her legs locked but her knees had gone weak.
When her mother had realized that both Tillie and Lord Rangeley had left the outing, she’d insisted they come back and check on them. The rest of the party had stayed for lunch and her mother had assured them she’d send the carriages back to collect them.
Why hadn’t Millie stayed too?
If she had, she wouldn’t have had to see this…
Was her mother right? Had Parker just proposed to Tillie? Why? Had he lied? Had something changed? Was he, in fact, the rake she’d accused him of being? And what of Tillie? Hadn’t she said she didn’t wish to marry at all? That the courtship with Rangeley was a ruse? And why would Millie’s words have changed her sister’s mind on that front? It didn’t make sense.
“Lady Millicent.” Rangeley was next to her, his hand wrapping about her waist. “You don’t look well.” And then he was moving toward the house. However else she felt about him, she was grateful in that moment. She wasn’t sure she’d have made it to the door of her own volition.
Tillie came to her other side, her sister’s arm wrapping about her shoulders. “Don’t listen to Mother. She’s got it all wrong.”
Wrong? Parker hadn’t been proposing? A bit of hope fluttered in her belly. What had happened then? “What do you mean, Tillie?”
“Let’s get you inside and then I’ll explain.”
“Tillie. Millie,” their mother called, coming up behind them. “Is everything all right?”
“Mother, Millie needs a cold cloth,” Tillie said. “And a snack. Biscuits and tea.”
“Tea?” Her mother’s brows furrowed. “You’re right. That would help. Tillie, go down to the kitchen and make the request, please.”
Tillie frowned over her shoulder before she turned back to Millie. “Drat,” she whispered. “I was hoping to send Mother off. The three of us need to talk.”
Talk? Millie’s inside pitched again.
It was Millie herself who’d gotten angry, hurled insults at him in the public tavern no less. She groaned softly and Rangeley’s arm tightened about her.
Then again, perhaps he was the rogue she’d accused him of being.
But she’d not attempt to stand in the way again, especially knowing that her sister might have been holding back because of fear. But she would speak her mind. A conversation with the three of them: her, Tillie, and Parker. Fine. It had to be done.
She’d been asking herself what she wanted out of life and some things had become clear. She wished to be the kind of person who made deliberate choices. One whom life did not just happen to, but who made informed decisions and stuck to them.
She thought of Rangeley. He’d marry for the good of the people who depended on him. In that regard, he was honorable. And she’d choose the path that made Tillie happy because that’s what strong people did. They made decisions that benefitted others, not just themselves.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.
Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you.” She looked over at his profile. “Once I’ve recovered my strength, Tillie is right. We need to talk.”
He looked at her, his eyes soft and full of an emotion that stole her breath. “Agreed.”
“You must not be recovered from your illness the past few days,” her mother babbled from behind her. “You should rest this afternoon.”
