Page 41 of The Secret Suitor

“She had. He warned us the travel might make her sickness worse, but not that it would remain so for the rest of the house party. When will she improve again? I vow, she is not even well enough for another journey should we wish to return home.”

“Shall I speak to someone?” Millie asked. “I can request the doctor be sent for.”

Charles looked at her clothing. He seemed to note the pelisse, warm bonnet, and gloves. “You are going out, are you not?”

“Only for a walk in the garden with Nell and Wesley. I can find a servant easily enough, and they would not mind needing to wait.”

He closed his eyes. “We should be with you, Millie. Your mother asked us to watch over you.”

The last thing Charles needed was to add more worries to his load. “There is a group assembling. We will not be alone.” Millie reached for her brother-in-law’s arm and squeezed lightly. “I have enough people watching out for me. Wesley and Oliver, to name a few, and I am seldom without friends. You need not worry for me or my reputation. This house is full. Your attention should be wholly on my sister.”

His shoulders relaxed. “It is not a hardship to have faith in you, Millie.”

“Would you like me to ask for a doctor?”

“There is no need. I will ring for someone if Helena wishes to see a doctor. You go and enjoy the garden.”

“I shall do my best, but it is absolutely frigid. There is no knowing how long I shall last.”

Charles looked amused for the first time that day. “I feel relatively confident you will have no trouble.”

Millie decided not to think too deeply on what he might have meant. She took herself downstairs and met Nell, Wesley, and Lord Dalmeer in the saloon, where a handful of others were dressed for the outdoors as well.

Neither Mr. Stroud nor Mr. Kendrick had opted to join their impromptu outing, which was just as well. Since leaving her conversation that morning with Clara, Millie had tried quoting the latest letter to both of those men—one at breakfast and the other just after—and neither showed any spark of recognition. Whoever had penned it was doing their best to keep their identity a secret.

The outer doors from the saloon led to the garden, and the group filed through them into the shock of cold air.

“Winter gardens are a bleak sight, are they not?” Wesley asked as they walked the path, Nell and Lord Dalmeer not too far ahead of them.

Millie took in the browning shrubbery and gray sky. The few blooms of yellow were vibrant, particularly against such a gloomy background, and the green ivy brought life to the space. “I do not know if I agree. The winter jasmine is even more beautiful for the dreariness surrounding it.”

“It certainly stands out.” Wesley walked at a sedate pace, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

The group thinned as people spread about the garden.

Wesley slowed his steps, and Millie did the same to match. “What is your opinion on Lord Dalmeer?”

She looked to where the earl was walking with Nell. “I have not had the opportunity to form an opinion yet. But I trust Nell. If she believes he is of good character, he must be.”

Wesley made an unintelligent thinking hmph.

“It is natural to worry when you have been given the task of watching over her,” Millie said. “Especially given her history and how much you care about her.”

“Striking the correct balance is the hardest part,” he said, watching his sister from a distance. “I understand Nell claims they are only friends, but I can see the way he looks at her, and I know what that means.” His green eyes cut to Millie, vibrant and rich. His steady gaze did not move from her eyes, causing her to wonder if this was how Lord Dalmeer allegedly looked at Nell.

If so, why was Wesley looking at her in such a way?

He seemed to collect himself. “The greatest struggle is determining how often to step back, to allow them time, and how often I need to step in and be there for her…I never know the proper move to make.”

“You ought to cease thinking about it so much.”

“Probably. But that is difficult.”

Millie turned away from the main garden to walk along the path toward the water. She wondered if a distraction was what Wesley—and Nell, in turn—needed. “I spoke to a maid from the house this morning. She is going to see about the blue wax on my behalf.”

Wesley’s jaw tightened. “Have you considered asking the men directly?”

“Yes, but that would only alert them to the scandalous fact that I am receiving letters in my room from an unknown source.”