She looked ready to attack him or cry. “You think no one will desire me?”
“That is not what I said.”
“It is what you meant!”
He fumed because her accusation was not entirely untrue. “The men here—their expectations are different.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “If I am not selected, then I will take pleasure in watching others.”
Her response stunned him into silence.
“Andre, I protest,” Marguerite intervened. “Miss Abbott has a right to be here as much as you do, and I dare say, if you do not leave her be, I shall have to ask you to leave.”
Astonished, he allowed Marguerite to usher Millie out the room. He released the oath he had been withholding. He was tempted to take the Follet carriage, with or without consent. He cursed again. Without a carriage, he could not transport Millie from the château. He could put her on his horse, but their progress would be slow, if not treacherous at night. It was no way for a lady to travel.
He would simply have to convince Marguerite or Millie that it was wrong for her to stay.
Good God, what was Katherine thinking letting Millie stay at the Château Follet? Alone. And how had Millie consented to such a thing? Did she realize what transpired here? Perhaps if she did, she would more readily depart with him.
He had always known Millie to be a sensible young woman. She was not frivolous, did not play the sort of games in which others of her sex engaged, and spoke with refreshing candor and maturity. For her to risk her honor in such a fashion was unlike her. If she were discovered, she would be ruined. Her family would be ruined.
Damnation.He ought not care. If she chose to be reckless and foolish, it ought to be none of his affair. Birthday wishes be damned. He had come to enjoy himself, to indulge in wicked carnality. As the Marquess of Alastair, he could afford to do as he pleased. Millie had not that luxury.