Chapter 33
How can two women conceive a child together? The answer is quite simple. Millicent is no ordinary woman. No, that creature is defective in the most appalling of ways. She was born with a male organ. Yes, that organ, the one responsible for creating life.
The gossip surrounding Millicent and the prince was utterly absurd. Millicent, with a man? Truly, what were they meant to do? Engage in a duel? Sword fight? Unless, of course, she had developed some peculiar penchant for repeatedly acquainting herself with the prince's back entrance, or, heaven forbid, offering hers in kind.
Having known Millicent, I can say with certainty, she has no interest in wielding any blade but her own.
That same summer, yes, that wretched, cursed summer, where misfortunes rained upon me like an unrelenting storm, an entirely unnecessary event took place. I was midway through recounting Cecilia's most recent sewing disaster to Laura when the blasted specter of doom himself, Isaac, materialized out of nowhere.
I froze, my spoon hovering in the air, ice cream melting in forgotten solitude. What in the name of all things sacred was this man doing here? Isaac never wandered far from his master. Which could only mean one thing, Millicent was near.
Panic gripped me instantly, my heart thrumming a frantic beat as my eyes darted left and right, scanning the bustling streets. She would not dare ambush me in public, would she?
Isaac bowed, "What a delightful surprise to see you here, Lady Florance. And you as well, Miss Cecilia, Miss Laura. The city air appears to favor you all splendidly."
I narrowed my eyes, my thoughts already simmering with suspicion. A surprise for me, certainly, but I would not call it delightful. Begone, rodent.
Forcing a smile that was all teeth and no warmth, I replied, "Ah, yes. A pleasure indeed, Mr. Beltmore. We were just enjoying some ice cream. Surely you have pressing matters that require your presence elsewhere?"
But the man was unshaken. "On the contrary, Lady Florance, I am most fortunate to have stumbled upon you. As it happens, I am in need of some assistance."
"Assistance?"
"Indeed. I find myself in search of a dress for my dear mother and thought, who better to consult than the esteemed Lady Florance and her companions? A woman's insight is invaluable in such delicate matters."
A dress? Was this man truly expecting me to believe that he had sought me out for fashion advice? That this was, in fact, not some elaborate ploy? I would sooner believe that the sun had turned blue.
"We are otherwise occupied," I said coolly, gesturing to our ice creams. "Surely, you can find assistance elsewhere?"
"I would never dream of disrupting Lady Florance's moment of repose. I simply ask for a sliver of Miss Cecilia and Miss Laura's time. Five minutes at most. Before you can so much as blink, they shall return to your side."
Cecilia and Laura exchanged glances. They seemed willing enough, though neither moved without my say-so. And as for me? My instincts screamed at me louder than a desperate merchant hawking his wares. This was not mere coincidence. Millicent's meddling hand was at work here. I could feel it.
My eyes flitted over the street once more, scanning for any sign of impending doom. Isaac shifted ever so slightly, positioning himself as an immovable pillar between me and my escape.
"It is only myself here, Lady Florance," he assured. "Her Grace is surely already back at the estate, tending to her duties."
"Very well," I conceded at last. "But see to it they return promptly."
"Of course, Lady Florance," he replied with confidence.
With that, Cecilia and Laura departed, disappearing into the crowd at Isaac's behest. I watched them go, a nagging unease twisting in my chest. Something was off. I had the distinct feeling I had just been masterfully deceived, but the crime had been committed with such decorum that I could not even begin to argue against it.
I stabbed my half-melted ice cream with my spoon, muttering to myself as I took another bite. Well, no sense dwelling on it now.
I was just beginning to savor the sweet chill against the warmth of the day when someone settled in the seat beside me. Without looking, I assumed it was Cecilia or Laura.
"That was fast," I remarked absently, turning to address them, only to be met with a pair of gleaming crimson eyes and a smile that sent a most unwelcome jolt through my chest.
My spoon froze mid-air, my entire body stiffening. "Your Grace," I said, my voice carefully composed, though the name itself came out more like an accusation than a greeting.
"Lady Florance," she murmured. Her voice carried that familiar undercurrent of mischief that set my nerves aflame. She leaned in as her gaze flickered to my lips. "Is the ice cream to your liking? You seemed rather enthralled."
I parted my lips to respond, but before I could muster a single coherent word, her hand lifted. She brushed her thumb across my bottom lip with infuriating ease. I froze. With an almost lazy grace, she brought her thumb to her lips and licked it clean.
My mind promptly abandoned me.
"W-what are you-" I stammered.
"You missed a bit," she said. And before I could so much as register the full meaning of those words, her lips brushed against mine.
It was fleeting but the effect was as ruinous as a lightning strike. My entire body seized with shock. My heart hammered an entirely undignified rhythm. I reeled back, my chair teetering precariously but before I could meet my humiliating demise at the hands of gravity, her hand shot out and steadied me.
"Careful now," Millicent purred. "We would not want to cause a scene, would we?"
My entire being burned with indignation. I glared at her with all the fury of a woman contemplating the many creative ways she could commit murder with a dessert spoon.
"Have you forgotten the kisses we shared? Or are you merely indulging in a bout of feigned modesty?" She said playfully, unbothered by my very justified loathing.
I nearly choked on my own breath. The audacity. The sheer gall. My mind scrambled for a retort sharp enough to wound, but the sheer absurdity of the moment left my tongue tied in knots. Millicent, sensing my turmoil like the predator she was, chuckled softly, a sound that only fanned the flames of my rage.
With no warning, she seized my hand and pulled me to my feet.
I wrenched back immediately. "Unhand me at once!" I hissed.
"Are you quite certain, Lady Florance? You may persist in your defiance, yet I am curious… how might you compose yourself were I to press a slow and merciless kiss upon you here, before this entire assembly?"
I glanced around. No, I dared not. The sheer thought of turning to see an audience of wide-eyed noblewomen and delighted gossipmongers sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through me.
Were it not for Cecilia's fragile standing, I might have struck Millicent then and there. But as it was, I had no choice. I let her lead me away, my every step echoing with silent curses directed solely at the woman leading me through the street.
We stopped before an elegant dress shop, its grand windows displaying gowns fit for royalty. My stomach twisted uneasily. Millicent pushed the door open, the soft chime of a bell heralding my impending doom.
"A private dressing room, if you please," she instructed the shopkeeper smoothly. "Fetch only your finest gowns. Lady Florance is my guest, and she shall have nothing less than perfection. There will be no need for attendants, just deliver them directly to us."
The shopkeeper, no doubt seeing the glint of coin in her future, nodded eagerly and scurried away to fulfill the request. Meanwhile, Millicent turned to me, her smirk utterly intolerable. To my absolute horror, she winked. A slow, deliberate wink. My hands trembled. My rage mounted.
This pervert! What devilry did she intend now?