Millicent surveyed the room as the maid finished dressing her hair. The décor was absolutely lovely, the walls upholstered in the palest of yellow silks. Earlier she had had the pleasure of indulging in a long soak in a tub filled with rose scented water. It was amazing how luxurious such a simple act could feel, but weeks of making do with sponge baths had taken their toll. She eyed the bed with its fresh, crisp linens and wished she had an opportunity to take a nap, for it looked heavenly. However, dinner was to be served in less than an hour and so that particular pleasure would have to wait.

Martha, noting her temporary mistress' survey, offered, "It's a right pretty room, ain't it, Miss Witherspoon?"

"Yes, it is beautiful. Frankly, it's not what I expected to find in a bachelor's home."

"I hear tell that the duke was most particular when it came to this room. He, himself, chose all of the furnishings."

"Then he has a fine eye. His wife will be a fortunate woman indeed."

Martha smirked and pinned another flower blossom into Millicent's hair. Catching the maid's eye in the dressing mirror, Millicent noted her cat ate the canary expression. "Out with it, Martha. What has you so very amused? Please tell me before I make a horrible faux pas in front of my host."

This was all the encouragement the young servant needed. Putting the brush down and abandoning all propriety she dragged a footstool and sat down, ready to engage in a round of gossip. "Well, now that you be asking Miss Witherspoon, I heard the housekeeper, Missus Browyn saying that this morning a runner came by with instructions that you be placed in this particular room." The young maid paused and waited expectantly for a response.

Unsure of what to say, Millicent offered, "Oh?"

Apparently the response was satisfactory because Martha continued, "It caused a right ruckus it did. This room needed to be aired out, linens changed and fresh flowers brought up. We only just finished as the lot of you arrived."

Since it had worked the last time, Millicent again replied, "Oh?"

"Yes. You see, Miss, no one knew the circumstances of your coming or we'd have been much better prepared."

"The circumstances? Martha, I am afraid that you have lost me. The Duke knew of our arrival weeks and weeks ago. I saw the letters with my own eyes. Lady Sparrow wrote to him of our trip."

"Oh yes, miss, we all knew of your coming but no one told us as to how you and the master are engaged."

Millicent dropped the ruby earbob that she was fastening and practically shrieked, "Engaged? The Duke of Wildbourne and I engaged? Why we have yet to even meet."

Martha became flustered and stammered, "But…but Miss Witherspoon, the master specifically sent word that you were to be placed in this room and this is the room for the mistress of the house. The master's room is next door and connects through." She demonstrated her point by crossing the room and yanking open a door.

Millicent went and peered through the open passageway. Sure enough, a masculine looking bed chamber was on the opposite side of the wall. A fine red mist began to form in front of her eyes. How dare the Duke of Wildbourne act in such an outrageous manner? What gall he had to place her in the sleeping chamber next to his. Of course all of the servants had naturally jumped to the conclusion that they must be betrothed. No respectable young woman would inhabit a room with a door that connected through to a gentleman's room. The duke might be a bit of a country bumpkin but surely even he knew that much. Why he apparently was no better than his insufferable cousin Bertie.

At the thought of Bertie, some of her ire began to dissipate. A small smile formed and she gave a satisfied hmph. Although she might not care for his high handedness in the matter, the duke obviously had marked her as his future wife by the chosen sleeping arrangements and Bertie Sparrow could take that fact and stuff it in his hat. It would not matter what lies he spread about her to his cousin, the decision had already been made. She would soon be a duchess and he nothing but a common laborer. Briefly she wondered when and how the duke's decision to wed her had occurred, for they had yet to ever meet.

He must have been amongst those on the crowded docks when they'd arrived. Evidently he'd taken one look at her and decided that he must have her as his own. A small thrill shot up her spine at the thought of the duke falling so hopelessly and completely in love with her at just the merest of glances. Why it was practically like a fairy tale. And though she would most definitely take him to task for his autocratic behavior and make him work to earn her forgiveness; Millicent was secretly thrilled by the romantic nature of it all.

"Tell me, Martha, is his grace very handsome?"

"I'm afraid I don't rightly know, Miss Witherspoon. I'm new to the household and have yet to meet him. But cook does say he's a strapping and fine looking man. Cook was right thrilled when the orders came, as she says he is getting far past the age when he ought to have married."

This news marred some of Millicent's happiness. "So his grace is indeed an elderly man?" Even as she queried, she fought to push the image of Bertie Sparrow from her mind. It did not matter how virile and in the prime of his life Bertie was, he was not the man for her. The Duke of Wildbourne was her future and that was a future that suited her just fine. So what if he was a tad on the elderly side? All that meant was that he would be more eager to please his new, young wife. And he would start by escorting her to all of the most fashionable balls and fêtes this season; the very type of events that a poor relation like Bertrand Sparrow would not even be invited to attend. That would certainly show him who was having the last laugh, wouldn't it?

"You have to do something, James. It simply is not proper."

James Norrington was unable to stifle the snort of derision at this statement. This earned him an irritated look from his spouse that caused him to chuckle. "I apologize, Kat, but you do have to admit that those words falling from your lips are rather ironic."

Kat put down the brush and stopped her preparations for dinner. "James, this isn't funny. Mister Witherspoon entrusted her to my care and these arrangements are intolerable. Her reputation will be ruined before she even attends her first ball. I know what it is like to be the center of gossip and rumor mongering and it is not pleasant. Poor Millicent will not be able to weather the storm."

James stopped fiddling with his waistcoat buttons and went to stand behind his wife at the dressing table. Placing his hands on her bared shoulders, his eyes met hers in the looking glass. He was surprised to see the beginnings of tears. This whole matter was truly upsetting her. He heaved a frustrated sigh. Hell and damnation, why was he always placed in the middle of these awkward situations? He had given his word that he would not reveal Bertie's secret when Bertie and Jack had at last revealed the truth of the matter; Bertie was determined to secure Millicent's affections without benefit of a title.

While he could understand and even empathize with this desire, James was not at all happy to be in his current position. Withholding information from Kat was never an easy task and Sparrow had made it that much more difficult by putting Millicent in the blasted bridal chamber. What the hell had the man been thinking? It was a move destined to cause tongues to wag. With that thought, James had his answer. Of course that was exactly what Bertie wanted. It was a way to mark Millicent as off limits to others until he got around to claiming her as his own. No man of the ton would dare approach a woman who had been so obviously claimed by a duke as his own. He had to admire the Bertie's battle strategy but right now, more importantly, he had a wife to comfort and distract.

Placing a light kiss on top of her head, he reassured, "I am sure that the Duke of Wildbourne has the most honorable of intentions. After all, he knows that she is a friend of his cousin's wife. If Millicent is not bothered by the rather premature claim to her affections, shouldn't we let the matter rest?"

Meeting James' eyes, she fretted, "But how can Millicent allow this to occur? She has never even met the man. She cannot possibly know if she wishes to spend her life with him."

"Darling Kat, most marriages are not like ours. If Millicent is content with a marriage based on social standing, is it our place to intervene?" James' lips began to trail a string of small kisses down the back of her neck and into the curve of her shoulder. He felt Kat shudder in response and smirked. As a distraction technique, this never failed. Kat's neck and shoulders were particularly sensitive.

But Kat was having none of it, for she was determined to talk about the problem. She swatted at him until he once again lifted his head and then turned to face him. "James, do be serious. It is patently obvious that Bertrand and Millicent are meant for each other. We simply cannot allow this pompous duke to come between them."

Sighing with irritation that his diversion had not worked, James asked, "Why don't you ask Millicent what she thinks about the matter? If she is truly unhappy with the situation, then we shall switch rooms with her." He silently hoped that Millicent decided to stay put, for he did not relish explaining to Bertie why his plans were thwarted. Still and all, Bertie's annoyance would be easier to face than Kat's distress.

James was quickly rewarded for his magnanimous offer as Kat jumped up, twined her arms about his neck and gave him an enthusiastic kiss. The enthusiasm quickly turned to passion and James' hands began to wander.

"James, stop that. We have to be down to dinner in half an hour."

"That is plenty of time for what I have in mind, Missus Norrington."

Kat pretended to be scandalized by her husband's suggestion but she could not keep the excitement from her voice as she protested, "But my dress shall become wrinkled. Really James, you do sometimes pick the most inappropriate moments."

"Then we shall endeavor to be careful." With these words, he pulled the chair farther away from the dressing table. After seating himself, he quickly unfastened the buttons of his breeches and firmly grasped his wife about the hips. "Lift your skirts and come sit here."

Kat's eyes widened at the order. "James, you aren't serious? Not now. Not like this?" But while she voiced her concern, she did nothing to fight against his insistent tugging of her towards the chair. In fact, she obediently widened her stance before settling down onto his lap.

James smiled as he tugged at her bodice and freed a breast for his feasting. For the remaining time before dinner, there was no more discussion of sleeping arrangements. The only sounds made were the delightful sighs and squeaks that he roused from his more than willing wife.

Dinner was nearly complete and there still was no sign of the duke. Millicent was tempted to throw a peevish tantrum but instead diverted her energy into acting as the lady of the house. With a regal concession, she nodded to a servant to indicate that the final course was to be served. No one questioned her right to act as hostess and that was likely all that kept her from shrieking with frustration.

Moments before heading into the dining room, Kat and Valentine had cornered her and insisted that she move into a different bed chamber. On the verge of agreeing, she was brought up short when Kat had pointed out that Bertie would find the current arrangement intolerable. That was all it took for her to dig her heels in and declare that she cared not one whit for what Bertrand Sparrow thought and that she was glad to have been singled out by the duke as his future bride. Minutes of hushed and fruitless arguing ensued, with both Valentine and Katherine pointing out that Millicent had never even met the duke.

"And where is Bertrand Sparrow anyway? He disappeared once we disembarked. Why should I care a fig for his opinion on anything?" Millicent fiercely whispered.

"I have no idea where he has taken himself to. I asked Jack and he mumbled something about Bertie not feeling comfortable here under the current circumstances. I assume that he means that Bertie does not enjoy feeling the poor relation. Really, can you blame the man?"

"That goes to prove the rightness of what I'm doing, Valentine. Why should I care about a man such as he when I have a duke declaring his interest?"

Katherine was about to answer sharply when she noticed the sparkle of tears in Millicent's eyes. Softly she countered, "You should care because you love him, Millicent. Just as he loves you."

"Love? He certainly has a funny way of demonstrating it. First he calls me a trollop and then he disappears without saying goodbye. Well, if that is love then I shall happily forgo it. I shall enjoy being the Duchess of Wildbourne. I daresay that the duke knows how to properly treat a lady. Unlike some that I could mention. " With this pronouncement she pulled her elbow from Katherine's grasp and strode into the dining room.

Now here she sat hours later and still no sign of the man that she was unofficially betrothed to. Perhaps he was not such a gentleman after all? Her thoughts were interrupted as a servant escorted a young delivery boy into the room.

The young man blushed when he noticed that he had interrupted dinner, but he did not deter from his mission. Approaching Millicent, he bowed and politely said, "I beg your pardon, Miss Witherspoon, but I was charged with delivering this to you in person and as soon as possible. The gentleman said it was most important." He handed her a sealed letter and a gaily wrapped box.

James shot a puzzled glance at Jack, as Katherine and Valentine jumped up to gather around Millicent. Jack nodded his head slightly and discretely placed his finger to his lips in warning. Rising, he fished about for a coin and gave it to the young man who quickly left.

Millicent broke the seal and read the missive. Soon she let out a little of squeal of delight and even Valentine and Katherine, who were reading over her shoulder, smiled.

Jack drawled, "Well are you going to be sharing with the rest of us or is it a for ladies only type of thing?"

Impressed despite her initial misgivings, Katherine snatched the letter from Millicent and read out loud:

My dearest Miss Witherspoon-

I beg you your pardon for my unconventional means in wooing you. From the moment that my eyes alighted upon you, I knew you to be a rare and special young woman. Your beauty, both inner and outer, act as a shining beacon for my affection just as a lighthouse acts as a beacon of hope for weary sailors. For too long, I have sailed the seas of life alone and I now hope that my journey will be enriched with you as a companion by my side.

I regret that I am unable to meet you properly at this time but unforeseen circumstances require that I delay that great pleasure. Please utilize my home as if it were your own, for indeed, with your kind permission, it shall soon indeed be so. Meanwhile, please accept this very small token as a symbol of my commitment to you.

Sincerest regards,

Your Devoted Admirer

All three women sighed at the conclusion.

Under his breath, Jack muttered, "Sounds like he spent too much time being ill at sea if you ask me."

James snorted at Jack's observation.

But none of the women even noticed the men's reaction. Millicent was too busy ripping open the small package and Valentine and Katherine eagerly watched her, wanting to see what it contained. Carefully she opened up the box and out of the cotton wadding pulled a small packet of folded paper. As she unfolded it, an enormous marquis shaped aquamarine ring tumbled out. Written on slip of paper was:

Will you be my duchess?