Her stomach growled.

If Lady Yardley considered this tea, Millicent wondered what a full meal might be like.

The duke clasped her arm, gave it a painful squeeze, and led her over to a group of women.

Millicent lifted her chin as all eyes turned to study her from head to toe. Selena had managed to twist Millicent’s hair into the semblance of a chignon, yanking as hard as the vamp could, of course, but it lacked the pearls and feathers and diamonds sprinkled into the other ladies’ coiffures. Well, she might not be up to their standards, but she rather thought not a one of them could break up a bar fight, scare off a were-lion, or satisfy the magic man the way she could.

How odd. The thought actually brought her comfort.

“It’s the country girl, is it not?” asked one of the ladies.

“Lady Millicent,” greeted Claire, her hazel eyes sparkling with delight. “I’m so glad you could join us!”

“Lady Yardley,” began Millicent.

“I’m sure it’s her,” interrupted a woman standing nearby. “Those eyes are most unusual.”

“You are being quite rude, Lady Chatterly,” said Claire.

“And since when do I care about social niceties?” Lady Chatterly bore down on Millicent, iridescent blue peacock feathers in her hair this time, the colorful eyes of the pattern seeming to stare intently at her. “I fear you possess something of mine that you forgot to return to me.”

Millicent threw Ghoulston a disgruntled look. He had thrust her into this predicament.

“Perhaps you should discuss this in private,” suggested Claire, tilting her head at the duke, who wore an expression of polite inquiry, as if he hadn’t the slightest idea what they were talking about.

Lady Chatterly ignored her, stepping forward in her boldly striped gown and clasping Millicent’s arm. “I demand to know who you have given it to.”

Millicent growled softly. Who had made Lady Chatterly the keeper of the relic? What right had she to think she held any demands upon Gareth? Millicent struggled to retain her human shape as her cat tried to surface, for she did not suffer anyone to hold her against her will.

Then Lady Chatterly’s face went through an abrupt change of emotion as she felt at Millicent’s arm. She pushed up the billowy sleeves of Millicent’s gown and gaped at the bracelet still tightly fitted around her wrist. “It’s not possible… you could not have resisted him… what is wrong with you?”

“I… nothing, I assure you. He is not as irresistible as you seem to think.”

“Nonsense!”

“Am I missing something?” inquired His Grace with just the right touch of boredom to his voice.

Claire patted Lady Chatterly on the shoulder. “My dear, you really must contain yourself. Come now, a nice hot cup of tea should do the trick.”

“But… but… how is it possible? I’ve never known a woman to wear it for more than one single evening…”

“Astonishing, I agree. But remember, Lady Millicent is from the country, and they are rather… conservative in her area. I’m sure she will succumb soon, and then promptly return the, err, item to you. Isn’t that right, Millicent dear?”

Millicent obligingly nodded.

Claire led Lady Chatterly to a back table, consoling the woman as she went.

Normal conversation resumed around the room.

“See what you’ve done?” hissed Millicent. “She’ll come to you for the relic, now.”

Lord Ghoulston shrugged, rather elegantly, drat the man. “I don’t know a thing about it now, do I? And I hazard to guess she will be reluctant to discuss the matter. Besides, it shall be a wicked pleasure to send her on a wild-goose chase into the backwaters of the North. She’s a bit of a harpy, that one.”

He stepped over to the nearest chair and pulled it out for her. “My dear cousin, please take a seat.”

Millicent frowned but sat, arranging her skirts with unnecessary fuss. What was so important that he had risked exposing the relic this way? She should warn Claire about this supposed gift for the queen, but she had no idea what to warn her of. She set the tea box on the linen tablecloth in front of her and glared at it.

“Tea, my dear?” inquired His Grace, filling her cup before she could respond. Then he turned to address the woman on his other side, whose gown revealed more of her charms than necessary as she leaned forward to smile at him.

Millicent sighed and took a sip. Perhaps it would calm her as easily as it had appeared to calm Lady Chatterly. Claire gave the woman one last pat on the shoulder, and hurried back to Millicent’s table.

“Now, my dear,” she whispered as she sat next to her. “You must tell me all about it.”

“I assure you, there’s not much to tell.”

“But he did… come to you, didn’t he?”

Millicent glanced at the duke, but he looked entirely engrossed in his conversation with the other woman.

“Yes. But you spoke truly, Claire. I come from a very conservative family.”

“Then you must tell me all about them, for I cannot imagine…” She shook her auburn curls, as if chastising herself for bad manners, and then held out a silver platter to her. “Scone, my dear? Or perhaps a cucumber sandwich?”

Millicent nodded. She couldn’t talk much with her mouth full, and she hated to lie to Lady Yardley any more than she had to. She truly liked the woman.

Another lady with blonde hair and a demure gown sat down on the other side of Claire, and began to speak to the table in general. “Did you know that Prince Albert is arriving to visit the queen today? The ton is atwitter with gossip. Various factions are pushing them to marry. This will be his second visit, and if rumors are to be believed, he has matured into a fine-looking young man.”

All eyes went to the speaker, and that’s when Millicent realized what tea parties were really for. Gossip.

“It is my understanding,” said His Grace, “that she was not so pleased with him on his first visit. I believe she referred to him as rather pudgy. And he could not dance worth a farthing.”

“Perhaps,” said Claire. “But since then I hear he not only learned to dance, but has also shed the baby fat of his youth.”

Lord Ghoulston scowled. “Still, I do not think it a suitable match. The queen should marry someone from her own realm… not some foreigner.”

“Ah, well,” said the blonde lady, “there is no accounting for the vagaries of love, is there?”

The duke bestowed her with a brilliant smile. “Very true, very true. It is as unpredictable as the weather, is it not? And given the queen’s impulsive nature, she may surprise everyone with a man of her own choice.”

Millicent sipped her tea, washing down the bite of moist bread that stuck in her throat. The duke appeared more interested in this idle gossip than a man should be… or perhaps this was normal. How could she possibly know the inclinations of the gentry? But still, she detected something in the duke’s tone that bothered her… or was she jumping at every little nuance, because she felt suspicious and bewildered by the duke’s purpose in bringing her today?

“Why, Lady Millicent, what is this beautiful box sitting in front of you?” said Claire. “There are some unusual gemstones in it.”

“Oh.” Millicent set down her cup of tea. “It’s, err, a present for the queen.” She studiously avoided looking in Ghoulston’s direction. “But if you think it gauche of me to offer a gift for the courtesy of inviting me to the ball…”

“Oh, quite the contrary. The queen loves unusual gifts. What’s inside it?” And Lady Yardley lifted the lid and sniffed. “It smells rather odd.”

“It’s a special blend of tea leaves found only in the hills near my home. They say a great wizard once used magic to blend several leaves into one plant, and although he is long gone, his creation continues to flourish.”

Ghoulston coughed into his embroidered napkin.

“Most unusual,” said Claire.

“Indeed.” Millicent curled her fingers into a fist. “Because of its unusual origin, I suggest the queen have it tested, or tasted, before she tries it. I wouldn’t want to cause her any stomach upset.”

Ghoulston kicked her beneath the table.

“Oh, do not worry,” replied Claire. “The queen has many magic-users to ensure the safety of anything that nears her person. Just think, a new blend of tea. She will be most delighted by your thoughtful gift, Lady Millicent.”

Millicent gave her a wobbly smile. She’d done the best she could to warn them. She just wished she knew more. She had a sudden image of Nell in were-form, tied up like a goose, the duke plucking out her brilliant feathers. One by one.

She should have followed her instincts, gotten Nell out of that prison of a palace, and left the duke to his own devious schemes. Now she felt a part of them, and responsibility for whatever happened would rest on her shoulders.

Lady Yardley laughed at something the duke said, calling him “Silly Willie.”

She liked Claire. She had even liked the queen.

Getting involved emotionally with other people never turned out well for her.

Eleven

Gareth stood by Millicent’s bedside and watched her sleep for a time, thinking he had Merlin to thank for one thing. Had Gareth not been trapped in the relic for centuries, he would never have met his one true love. For he no longer had any uncertainty about his feelings for Millicent. When the duke had poisoned her, and Gareth thought he’d lost her forever…

No, he did not doubt the strength of his feelings for her. Millicent’s feelings, on the other hand, still remained a mystery to him.