Page 49 of The Secret Suitor

“He is far too old for games of that sort.”

“There is no knowing how old the writer is.”

“Unless you ask him.”

Millie sighed. “We have discussed that option. I will not spread the news of inappropriate letters to unknown people⁠—”

“No, you should not,” he agreed. “But you could always write a letter to your admirer.”

She inhaled, gasping slightly. “Wesley, that is brilliant.”

“Shall we do it now? The house is nearly empty. I believe most people have gone ahead to the pond.”

“Yes. Will you help me?”

“Always,” he whispered.

Wesley looked into her eyes. As though a string tied them together, their connection could not separate. Millie found it difficult to move at all. She had wanted so badly to believe every word that had left Wesley’s mouth in the mausoleum. Truly, she knew he believed every word he said. But how could he know for certain when the affection he claimed to have was so new? The things he claimed to admire about her so broad? The reasons for wanting to be with her all based on jealousy?

It was not a sturdy enough foundation to place all her feelings, to make herself vulnerable. She could so easily be hurt.

Wesley offered his arm and she took it, letting him lead her back to her room. She found a sheet of paper, ink, a blotter, and a quill pen. Sitting at the desk, Wesley stood at her shoulder while they composed the letter.

“To my…secret…”

“Suitor,” Wesley finished.

Millie wrote the words. “I have…”

“I am gratified by the attention you have shown me.”

“Good.” Millie copied it down. She paused, dipping the quill in ink. “How do I tell him I would like to meet?”

“You might mention that the secrecy has gone on long enough?” Wesley asked. “Please meet me in the conservatory tomorrow before dinner.”

“Alone?” she asked.

“Do not say so, for I am not leaving you alone with an unknown man, and you would not wish to lie.”

“No, I would not,” Millie muttered. She wrote it, then added, “On December thirtieth.”

“Yes, good. He will not know which day you left the note.”

She signed her first and last initials without adding anything else, then blotted and folded the letter. Once the wax had been poured and the stamp set, Millie went about cleaning up the rest of the supplies and putting them away. After it had dried, she removed the stamp and looked at the red wax with an elaborate D in the center—likely for Dalmeer.

“Where will you leave it?” Wesley asked.

Millie wrote Secret Suitor on the front and left it propped on the mantel where the letters had been left for her. She exhaled. “Shall we venture out to the pond?”

Wesley nodded, and they made their way outside to join the rest of the party on the ice.

Chapter Sixteen

When Wesley and Millie reached the pond, following a path in the snow that had been forged by many walking feet, they sat on a fallen log and tied skates to the bottoms of their shoes. Wesley had not skated in some years, but he distinctly recalled the last time he took to the ice with some of his friends at university. He had not been terribly ungainly then. Hopefully now he would still do the sport justice.

The ice was pandemonium as the majority of the guests had joined in the activity, gliding along together with various degrees of skill. Mr. Stroud plodded along beside his sister, who moved gracefully. Lord Weymouth was much the same, leaning upon his wife as they moved around his sisters. Mr. Kendrick remained standing on the shore, watching the festivities and chatting with another older gentleman.

Wesley continued to search the ice for his sister. He finally located her gliding along the other side of the ice with Mr. Tinston.