Page 3 of The Secret Suitor

Irritation fleetingly swept through her. “No one calls me that, Wesley.”

“Women don’t usually barge into my bedchamber without being invited and watch me shave, either.”

“I didn’t barge.”

“Forgive me. Would you prefer the term burst? Or perhaps erupt?”

He was calm and collected, his composure entirely at odds with the words leaving his mouth. No man of her acquaintance was as unruffled as Wesley Prescott, and yet she still managed to blush, her cheeks growing furiously hot. “Is it safe to assume Nell is not here?”

“She might be in her own room presently, but I think you are more likely to find her in the drawing room where we were told to gather for dinner.”

Millie tore her eyes from him and swept the room briefly, noting the lack of feminine belongings strewn about. “This is not her room?”

“I should think my presence has established that already.”

“You are being intentionally obtuse.” Millie planted a hand on her hip. “I was told this is Nell’s chamber.”

Wesley wiped his jaw with a towel and turned, looking her in the eye. His dark hair was tousled, the soft curls in disarray. His stomach was flat and widened up to his broad shoulders. He was a man who had spent some time in physical pursuits, which was abundantly clear, and the very image made her hand drop to her side. “You were misled. It is certainly a Prescott’s chamber, but my sister was directed to another wing of the house.”

Goodness, she must cease staring. Her cheeks grew hot, which meant they were turning red. Not the image she wanted to present that evening. “Forgive the intrusion.”

Wesley’s eyes raked over her face, making her feel as naked as he was. “Good evening, Mildred.”

Instantly, all charitable thoughts fled. “You are positively indecent.”

“I am not the one staring nor refusing to leave.”

Neither was he hurrying to put on a shirt in the company of a woman. Unless, of course, he still believed her to be a girl. A young friend of his younger sister. Millie’s neck flushed, and she was certain all her skin matched the deep burgundy of her gown. She turned on her heel and slipped from the room to the sound of Wesley’s faint chuckle.

Mentally, she struck Wesley from the list of men she could possibly see a connection with. She wouldn’t mind kissing him, to feel the strength in those arms, but it was clear he still saw her as the child she used to be.

Well, she would disabuse him of that notion soon enough.

Chapter Two

If it had not been for his sister, Wesley Prescott would have chosen to remain home during this farce of a house party.

Why a farce? Because it was not the Yuletide celebration it was dressed to be. No, not with Lady Dalmeer at the helm. That woman derived pleasure from nothing so deeply as that of creating matches. Not everyone wanted to be paired off by a meddlesome woman in want of attention. Some men preferred to choose their own bride…someday…when they were ready for such a permanent liaison.

Presently, Wesley’s aim was to protect his sister from blackguards and ensure she did not take any foolish or rash actions. He was the level-headed Prescott child, and as being her guardian was his sole responsibility since they had come to the party without their parents, he was going to give her the entirety of his attention.

So long as Lady Dalmeer did not meddle overly much.

Good gads. Had she meddled already? Was it the woman’s fault that Millie Hollis had come upon Wesley half-clothed, vulnerable, and with a blade to his neck? Poor timing, to say the least. She had startled him so greatly, he’d nicked the skin just beneath his jaw.

He rubbed his smooth chin just above the injury and glanced down the dinner table to where Nell sat. She was doing well, by all appearances. It was nearing the end of the meal, and Wesley had been placed a few seats from the center of the enormously long table. Millie sat across the table from him. He found she would not meet his gaze, and the one time she did—albeit briefly—a blush had filled her cheeks.

Had Millie always been a stunning creature? Wide, round brown eyes and pink, plump lips. Her nose was small and straight with the slightest upturn on the end. Her features culminated to make something richly feminine and delicate, though Wesley was well aware she was anything but fragile. The woman had bite.

She had been a regular fixture in his life for so long, he knew her well. But in the same breath, he had never paid much attention to her. Indeed, he saw Millie every Sunday at the least and many days in between, as she was often at Nell’s side. Though, now that they weren’t children, he and Millie spoke only in passing. A glimpse in his day. Nothing he paid much mind to.

So why did he notice how lovely she looked tonight? What was it about the moment standing bare-chested before the girl—no, woman—that had cleaned the glass between them?

The flattery of her attention could not take credit entirely, because she had looked at him many times before. But the length of her staring and the look in her eyes had unlocked something within him he could not identify.

And neither would he try. It mattered very little. She was much too young for him to consider with any sort of seriousness.

He glanced to the center and suppressed a frown. He could not hear Nell’s conversation, and she was only three seats beyond him. Should Wesley signal to her? Ensure she was well? After the scandal she had faced last year, he knew being out in Society again was going to be a challenge, and he worried for her.