Page 61 of The Secret Suitor

Confound it. That was the last thing he needed.

He glanced to where Nell and Millie sat together in a grouping of chairs closer to the wall, their heads bent in conversation. He would give anything to be with them.

How to extricate himself without being rude?

“I heard it mentioned there might be a game of bullet pudding soon. Would you be interested in playing?” Miss Stroud asked, her chin tilted so the firelight caught her golden hair and made it glow.

Wesley searched for a way out. He could go to his bedchamber early. Or claim he needed to see to his correspondence—he did owe his mother a letter after all. Perhaps he ought to simply rise, bow to Miss Stroud, and walk away.

No, he could not. What would that do to her reputation to be so summarily dismissed?

“I must ask my sister if she intends to play,” he finally said. “Where is your brother? Or your parents? Surely they would like to know if you are playing as well.”

Miss Stroud’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, a cool expression on her face. “They will not mind if I join, and my playing will have no bearing on their choices. My family is not particular about their parlor games.”

Wesley pulled his sleeve from her grasp and stood, taking a healthy step back. “I hope to see you there, then.”

Hoped to see her there? Gads, he was beyond help.

The heat of Miss Stroud’s gaze followed him to the other side of the room, where his sister was planted beside the woman who held his heart. They ceased talking as he approached, which meant they were likely talking about him—or the man who was on his sister’s mind, which was not something he was ready to think about.

“Good evening,” he said, taking the empty seat beside Nell. He was unable to dampen his smile when he looked at Millie, and she returned the look, her cheeks and the tip of her dainty nose turning pink. Was she thinking of the kiss the same way he was?

Nell glanced at Millie, then her brother, and back at her friend. “Something has happened.”

“What do you mean?” Millie asked.

Nell shook her head. “You cannot fool me, Millie Hollis. I can sense a change here.”

The only real change was that he had finally kissed her—and that kiss had changed him. It had shown him how lovely it was to give himself wholly over to her, and for her to do the same. Indeed, Wesley was quite ready to kiss Millie again.

For the present, however, he would do his best to keep his hands to himself.

“Is there any reason we should not acknowledge it?” Wesley asked, which was nearly as good as admitting Nell was correct. She had seen directly through them, though, and he saw no purpose in pretending otherwise.

Millie’s eyes widened. “I still have a suitor.”

“Yes,” Wesley agreed. “Me.”

Nell drew in a quiet gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is wonderful.”

“You are not opposed?” Wesley asked, trying to read his sister’s expression.

“On the contrary. I could not be happier. Are you going to make an announcement?”

“That we are courting?” Millie asked. “No. I need to learn who my suitor is so I can explain I am unavailable first.”

“Won’t they understand once they see the two of you together?”

“We have been together most of the week. They still do not seem to understand, or they would cease writing anonymous letters,” Wesley muttered.

“I have a plan,” Millie said coolly. “This will be taken care of shortly.”

A shadow fell over their small party. They looked up to find Miss Stroud standing in front of them, her sickly sweet smile on Wesley. Blast. He’d thought he had rid himself of her attention for the evening.

“Bullet pudding is about to begin, Mr. Prescott.”

“Thank you,” he said.