Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Early December

Millie couldn’t decide if she was excited or worried as she made her way down the long hallway to her father’s study at the back of the house.

The last time he’d summoned her for a formal chat was just before the start of the season last spring. She’d been looking forward to the trip to London, thrilled that she would be out in society and able to enjoy all the entertainments she’d only heard about secondhand from her friend Sarah.

As the sister to a viscount, Sarah’s family visited London every year. And while she too had to sit out many of the formal events because she was too young to attend a ball, she had a closer vantage point to the social whirl.

Millie’s father was the second son to a baron and so did not have a duty to visit London when Parliament was in session. And since her father disliked traveling away from home, they’d never made the trip.

But instead of speaking to her about the impending season, her father had called her into his study that morning to explain there would be no season for her that year. But he’d promised to make it up to her next year.

She couldn’t help but remember that promise now as she reached his study. Christmas was almost upon them, and the news they’d be heading to London in the spring would make the perfect gift. It was the only thing she wanted.

She was in time to intercept her mother rushing from the room.

“Millie,” her mother exclaimed before drawing her into a quick hug. “I’m so happy today, and I’m sure you’ll be too when your father tells you the news.”

Her spirits rose at Mama’s good mood. “We’re going to London in the spring?”

“Millie.” Papa’s deep voice cut into their conversation. “Come inside and close the door.”

Her mother’s smile widened. “Go and speak to your father. He’ll explain everything.” Mama hurried off without another word.

Her mother’s optimism had banished her lingering fear that this would be another disappointing discussion about London. She was finally going to have her season.

She hurried into the study and closed the door behind her. When she turned to greet her father, her smile was so wide it almost hurt.

He was leaning back in his chair, beaming with satisfaction.

“You wanted to see me, Papa?”

He stood and moved to stand before the desk. A distracted part of Millie’s mind took in the fact that the surface was strewn with small piles of paper. She noticed only because her father was normally fastidious when it came to organization.

He leaned back against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “I have happy news for you.”

Millie clasped her hands together at her waist, but she was unable to wait for her father to speak. “Is it true? We’re going to London in the spring?”

Papa chuckled. “That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. We won’t need to go to London.”

She froze. Surely she’d heard wrong. Why was her father smiling when he was delivering such horrible news? “But you promised.”

“Yes, yes,” he said, his grin still in place. “I promised we’d go to London so you could find a husband. But that isn’t necessary now.”

The ball of nerves in the pit of her stomach returned in full force. She was almost afraid to speak, but somehow she forced out the question. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve already received an offer of marriage on your behalf.”

“You’ve what?” She imagined that she could feel the color drain from her face. She’d read novels where the heroine claimed to experience that sensation, but she’d never expected to experience it in real life.

That bundle of nerves had turned into an all-consuming dread. “You accepted an offer without speaking to me first?”

Her father frowned. “Watch your tone, Millie.”

She tried, she really did. Her father hated it when people raised their voice, and it wouldn’t serve her cause to make him angry. But in that moment, she was too upset to care. “You promised I’d be able to go to London for my season, and now I learn you’ve accepted an offer without considering my wishes?”

She began to pace. Who did they even know who would make her an offer of marriage? A clear image entered her mind of one of father’s friends who’d recently lost his wife. On his last visit, she’d overheard him telling her father that he planned to marry again.

She spun to face him and placed her hands on her hips. “You can’t do this to me.”

Papa’s smile was gone, and in its place was the forbidding man she rarely saw, though she’d heard others say he could be intimidating. She’d never been on the receiving end of one of his angry glares. His icy blue gaze cut straight through her and a shiver raced down her spine.

“We’ll talk about this at dinner when you’ve had time to think about your outburst. I don’t appreciate your histrionics, and I doubt your future husband will either.”

There was no arguing with Papa when he was like this. She turned and stormed from the room. She left the door open on her way out, resisting the urge to slam it behind her.

She raced up the stairs to her bedroom and flopped onto the bed, her heart racing. But she didn’t cry. She couldn’t.

This wasn’t happening. Her father had promised she’d be allowed to choose her husband. That he wouldn’t just marry her off to the first man who offered for her. His revelation that he’d done just that stunned her.

What could have changed? Was it their finances? She’d never paid attention to such things, but she knew money had been tight last year. That was why they’d had to remain in the country instead of traveling to London for her season.

She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts and emotions a chaotic whirl as she tried to make sense of this shocking turn of events.

But her thoughts were too muddled to think clearly. If anyone could help her untangle this mess, it would be Sarah. Her friend had always been levelheaded and logical. When Millie explained what had happened that morning, Sarah would come up with a plan to convince her father to change his mind.

She took a few deep breaths, determination sinking into her bones, and rose from the bed. She settled before her dressing table and opened the bottom drawer where she kept her letter-writing supplies. She took out one sheet of paper and settled it in the center of the small table.

She pulled out her quill and a pot of ink and started to write. Sarah’s estate neighbored theirs and Millie visited her friend often, but today she wouldn’t ask for permission before setting out. She couldn’t risk being told she must stay home.

Mama, Papa,

I am going to spend the afternoon with Sarah.

I’ll be home in time for dinner.

—Millie

There, that should be sufficient. If anyone came looking for her, they’d find the note where she’d left it on her dressing table.

If luck was on her side, she might be able to sneak out of the house and return before anyone realized she’d left.

She cast a worried glance out her window and hesitated. Perhaps she should reconsider her current course of action. The sky was a dark gray, and the clouds were heavy. At breakfast, she’d overheard one of the footmen saying he expected it to snow.

No. She turned away from the window and crossed over to her wardrobe. She’d dress warmly and wear a long cloak. The walk normally took her three-quarters of an hour, so she’d be fine. And if by chance it did snow, Sarah would arrange for her brother’s carriage to return her safely home.

She crept down the servants’ staircase, her senses on high alert. On any other day, no one would care that Millie was planning to visit her friend. But she didn’t want to risk the possibility that her father had left instructions she was to remain at home.

She let out the breath she’d been holding when she slipped out a side door and inhaled deeply, enjoying the way the brisk air filled her lungs.

Ten minutes into her walk, she realized it had been wise to bundle up before setting out. The brisk air that seemed so refreshing when she first stepped outside was now frightfully cold. She ignored the small voice that told her she should turn back now and tugged her hat down to cover her ears. She didn’t care that anyone spotting her would think her a servant for surely no one else would venture out on foot in this cold.

Only a desperate person would do that, and Millie was certainly that. Every fiber of her being was urging her to continue with her quest since it was clear she’d find no help from her parents.