Page 65 of The Secret Suitor

“That might well have something to do with it, but I think you are more deserving of credit than anything else.”

“Me?”

“Had I not been forced to help you⁠—”

“Forced! The very nerve to suggest such a thing. If I recall correctly, you inserted yourself into my hunt.”

“Inserted myself?” Wesley asked, amused.

“Yes. You asked to pay your debt by watching over my door.”

“A good thing I did, too, or you might still be wondering who wrote those things to you.”

Millie picked up her drink, looking about the table. “Or perhaps the horseshoe I obtained at the fete gave us each some luck.”

“You cannot truthfully believe that anything else influenced our feelings,” he said.

She shot him a wide smile, but it dimmed. “I have not yet spoken to him, Westopher.”

His eyebrows rose. “That one is unique.”

“It is a marriage of your name and Christopher.”

“Yes, I realized,” he said dryly, sitting back so he might see her face better. “Would you like to tell me what is keeping you from speaking to your admirer? Is he not better off receiving the truth directly from your lips?”

“In a way, I did give him the truth of things this morning when he played his song for me on the pianoforte.” Millie glanced toward where Mr. Stroud sat, though it was difficult to see him clearly due to the dimness in the room. “We finished our conversation with very clear ideas of where we each stood on the matter. He all but conceded to ‘a finer man.’”

Wesley swirled his drink before taking a sip. He set down the glass and looked at her. “Would you not wish to be upfront with him to avoid any further confusion?”

“I cannot bring myself to directly refuse him again, Wesley. He was so deeply hurt the last time that he wrote a horrid song about it.”

Wesley’s brow furrowed.

“You will hear it at the musicale,” she muttered.

“Very well.” He chuckled, returning his attention to finishing his dinner. “Have you enjoyed this Christmastide, Millie?”

“I had hoped to kiss a gentleman and discover he might be hopelessly in love with me, so I suppose I can mark this house party as somewhat of a success.”

“You have also been able to do some of your favorite things: caroling, spending time with loved ones, playing in the snow.”

“How do you know those are my favorite things?” She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “I have not told you so.”

Wesley’s face softened. He felt his heart reach out to her, to seek ways he could prove that his affection was full and long-lasting. “I know you, Millie. I know you care deeply about your family, value the traditions surrounding Christmas and Epiphany, and enjoy playing silly games and being outside, even when it is snowing.”

She did not speak, but merely looked at him, the food on her fork seemingly forgotten.

“I know you would like to be able to see your family during the holiday, which would make it a fortuitous thing to marry someone who lives close enough to share every holiday with your parents and Helena and Charles.” He looked into her brown eyes, made deeper in the dark room. “This must have been difficult, being away from your parents.”

A blush stole over her cheeks. “I was unkindly happy when Helena and Charles took my parents’ place and came here with me. I had hoped it would mean more freedom to court men of my choosing without a watchful eye.”

“You certainly received that.”

“But now I wish my mother and father were here to participate in the activities.”

“Perhaps we can have some of our own activities for our families when we return to Lancashire.”

“That would be wonderful.”