Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind Read Free

compliant, and that Lady Denby had been so pointed in her attack of Andrew at the dinner table. I wonder if she is beginning to believe that her brother really does plan to die, she thought as she knotted the thread, cut it, and shook out the nightshirt in her lap. If my cousin is seriously listening to her brother, then she is plotting for Cecil, that blockhead. And if that is the case, then Andrew must be brought to ruin. Then what? Have we not endured enough trouble of late?
    The thought propelled her to her feet, which caused Lady Carruthers to look up in surprise from her contemplation of the game spread out before her. “You have not even called for tea yet,” the woman said, turning even this simple request into an accusation.
    â€œ No, I have not,” Jane said, stuffing her scissors into their case. “I leave that to you tonight, Lady Carruthers. I have not looked in on Lord Denby all day.”
    Jane left the drawing room without saying good night, and, she realized as she hurried down the hall, without her usual solicitous inquiry after Lady Carruthers, and her final, “Is there anything I can do for you?” which always brought some last-minute request, generally of a picayune nature which did nothing beyond reinforcing that tyrant’s supremacy. Please be better, Lord Denby, she said to herself as she knocked softly on the door and let herself into the bedchamber. I would like there to be some good reason for all the scolds I will get tomorrow morning because of my precipitate departure from your sister’s presence.
    Stanton sat beside the bed, impeccable as always, but with closed eyes. To her amusement, the man in the bed put his finger to his lips. I will take it as a good omen, my lord, that you have retained your sense of humor through another long day much like the one before it, Jane thought. She tiptoed forward and placed the nightshirt on Lord Denby’s bed.
    â€œ Shall I send Andrew in to wish you good night?” she asked as she always did, knowing the reply, but asking anyway.
    â€œ No, Jane, no,” he replied as always. “You know my feelings on the subject.”
    â€œ Yes, sir,” she whispered back, wishing as always that he would not be so unkind as to consider his grandson a “subject,” and not a little boy. “And how do you do, sir?”
    He did as always, as far as she could tell, managing somehow to lie in bed straight like a soldier should, his bedclothes in order and not twisted about from the restlessness of disease or even discomfort. Blair had been like that, she thought suddenly, organized and military until the final month when he quit caring and gave his wounds permission to overrun his own superbly maintained defenses.
    â€œ I am going to die,” Lord Denby told her, his voice less soft now and his eyes on the sleeping butler. “I wish you would believe me.”
    â€œ We are all going to die, sir,” she replied, surprising herself for the second time this evening with a touch more asperity in her voice than customary. “Mr. Lowe is convinced that you will feel much better if you take an interest in your surroundings.”
    I wish you would get angry enough at me to get out of bed, she thought, as the head of her family merely glared back. I can always rouse your sister to unimagined flights of fury with far less provocation.
    â€œ An interest in my surroundings? Mr. Lowe would have us believe that is the height of medical achievement?”
    Well, I will take that as a slight improvement, she thought. You almost sound jocular, Lord Denby. I’m certain the mood will pass. “I suppose we are lucky, my lord,” she replied, with just the hint of a smile. “Stanton, did we disturb you?”
    The butler was awake now, and looking from her to his master. “Miss Milton, you don’t disturb me,” he said, the lightness of his words telling her that he had been listening to their