Chapter 18

"I guess he didn't like what I said, but I knew it would come as a surprise." Haven plopped down next to Millie, and hung her head.

"My dear, surprised isn't the word I would use. I think flabbergasted is more appropriate." Millie held her gaze, her piercing blue eyes digging for the truth.

She shuddered. "I guess you're right and probably ready to get up and walk out, too." She smiled crookedly.

"Don't tell Logan, but I think I like crazy people." Millie laughed, and grinned brightly.

Relief flooded her. "Why?"

Millie leaned in and whispered, "The nobility have a misplaced sense of the serious. It bleeds them of all hilarity. Crazy people are entertaining. I like to be entertained." She laughed, and gave Haven's shoulder a quick squeeze. "You aren't crazy, dear. I believe every word you said."

Her heartbeat screeched to a halt. "You do?"

"When I first met you, I knew you were intelligent, interesting, and something else I couldn't put my finger on. Believe it or not, the older you get the less fun you have. When you're young, you can dance the night away under the glimmering light of a thousand candles. When you're old, they banish you to the far reaches of the ballroom, where you're required to sit and glance about at all the young bucks, and their antics. I would much rather be dancing." Millie laughed again.

Haven beamed. She couldn't help it, she liked Millie. "Thank you for your...uh...interest in me. I wish your nephew would give me a chance." She also wished she could go back to where he'd pushed her into the rock. The watch had to be there.

Millie's expression turned thoughtful, almost sad. "My nephew has been through a lot in his life. Understandably, those things have made him the man he is. Also, he can't read you like I can. Logan isn't going to be as easy to convince. Give him time, dear."

"Time is something I don't have. I have a life in 2013 I need to get back to." She hadn't spent five years working her butt off to get stuck in 1817 without the chance to start her life over.

Like a train blindsiding a Moped, she knew what it would take to get the duke to believe her. "I have an idea."

Millie's bright eyes turned radiant, and excitement spread across her face. "What is it?"

"When I landed in the pasture, I had a bag with me, and inside is a bunch of stuff from 2013. Once he sees them, he'll have to believe me."

Millie jumped in with both feet. "I'll have Logan send a footman."

She held up a staying hand. "No, no. I need to go myself. No offense, but where I'm from you can't trust people to handle your private things." She didn't like the idea of a stranger going through her bag. Who knew what he'd think about the strange things he'd find.

Millie nodded in understanding. "Are you sure the bag came with you, and the items inside will convince my nephew?"

"Absolutely."

Nodding, Millie walked to the door. "This is going to be marvelous." Her smile was mischievous on her otherwise mature face.

***

"She's a bloody loon," Logan exclaimed. He paced before Harry who lounged cross-legged on the settee. "She claims she's from the year two-thousand and thirteen. Not only is it ludicrous, it's impossible." He stopped and poured another drink.

"Well, old man, I think it's time you called the magistrate. He can put her where she belongs-in the nut house."

When he pictured Miss Edwards huddled in squalor within the walls of Bethlem Royal Hospital, he shuddered. Bedlam, as it was affectionately called, was a place of nightmares, hopelessness, and death. Of the hundreds who entered its doors, few left, and those that did were never the same. Hollow shells where vibrant souls used to be. Something twisted in his chest at the image of her fiery jade eyes slowly fading, the brilliant gems replaced by two dull, lifeless rocks. No, she didn't belong in Bedlam, but she sure as hell didn't belong here.

"No." He tightened his fists.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "What will you do with her? You can't keep her locked up."

"I absolutely agree." A voice chimed in from the door. He hid his surprise behind a nod of greeting when Millie entered.

"Aunt Mildred, to what do I owe the honor?" He spied the roguish glint blooming in his aunt's eyes and he fought a grin. She was up to something, the old rascal, and he would bet a year's income it had something to do with the woman upstairs.

"I have a request." She glided to him, and looked him in the eyes. "I need you to explain where you found Miss Edwards. Something of importance was left behind in the rush."

"I didn't notice anything." Then again, he wasn't paying attention to anyone but the bleeding woman in his arms.

She raised an eyebrow, and drawled, "I don't doubt it. I'm sure you were preoccupied." Choking on a bark of laughter, he coughed, and reached for his glass of brandy. Harry wasn't as successful at camouflaging his mirth. Mildred turned to him, grinning. The dragon sure had spirit.

"Miss Edwards insists she had a bag with her when she landed here. She explained the bag contains items that will prove her story. I have decided to aide her."

"How noble of you, aunt. You do understand that any footman we send may not find anything."

Her sharp, narrow gaze speared him. "Logan, I wasn't born yesterday, or the day before."

Ignoring Harry's garbled snort of laughter, he parried, "Thank you for clarifying."

"A footman will not know what to look for, whereas Miss Edwards will."

He didn't like where she was headed. "Are you suggesting I let her leave to find some lost bag?" His throat tightened. He couldn't quite believe what she suggested. What kind of hold did Miss Edwards have over his aunt? He swallowed. What kind of hold did she have over him?

"Yes. She is perfectly trustworthy, and even if she weren't, I would be with her to make sure she found her belongings, and made her way back safely."

Had she lost her mind? "Her safety isn't my concern," he thundered. "Yours is."

Her eyes blazed, and she jut out her chin. "If you don't believe Miss Edwards is capable of leaving and returning without killing someone, maybe you should take her."

She'd trapped him. He'd angered her, but he'd only been worried for her safety. "Aunt, if it will make you happy, and if it would speed Miss Edwards' departure from my home, I will gladly assist her in retrieving her bag. I will take her tomorrow, if she is well enough by then."

Millie's eyes sparkled in triumph, and he understood he had been as finely played as a violin. He sighed in resignation, and changed the subject.

"Are you still planning to host a dinner party Monday night?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She drilled him with her gaze, and charged from the room.

He didn't have time to argue before the door clicked shut behind her.

Harry stood, and placed his glass on the table beside the settee. "She is certainly a force of nature."

"You have no idea." He wanted to frown, but a smile broke through. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

"So, what will you do?" Harry's question was an all-encompassing query, whether he meant it to be or not. Logan sobered, his smile disappearing behind his need to clinch his jaw.

"I don't even know if this bag exists, but if it will help move things along, I will take Miss Edwards to the south pasture to find it."

"Rather nice of you." Harry's brows rose over his twinkling eyes.

"What else can I do? I am no closer to uncovering the truth about the thefts, and she is, unfortunately, my problem."

"Well, I will leave you to it then. Mother sent a note around requesting my presence at dinner. I am loathed to disappoint her." Grinning, Harry left the study, taking his levity with him.

***

"It's done." Millie had a habit of entering a room in stealth and announcing her presence with a statement.

"If your bag is still there, it should be in your hands before dinner tomorrow. He's agreed to take you."

Stiff with anticipation, Haven stood and nodded. "Good. Thank you." What else could she say? She didn't like the idea of spending any time with 'his grace', but she had to get her bag back.

Exhaustion crashed over her. She closed her eyes, wished for a hot bath, Tylenol PM, and the promise of an uneventful tomorrow.

Millie moved to her side, and touched a gentle hand to her cheek, infusing care, and warmth into her battered mind and body.

"You need rest, dear girl." She led Haven to the bed, and pulled the comforter back to pat the mattress.

She climbed in, and yawned. Her ears popped, and her eyes watered. "You're right. I could use a nap. Actually, I could hibernate through the next two months, and still have sleep debt." Millie plumped the pillows, and heaped them in a welcoming pile. Languishing under the attentions of a truly darling woman, Haven felt more comforted in that moment than she'd been in a long time.

She snuggled beneath the warmth of the comforter, the cares of the day melted away, and her eyelids shuttered closed. Millie bent over her, placing a gentle kiss on her bandage.

"Sleep well."