Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind

Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind

by Carla Kelly
Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind

Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind

by Carla Kelly

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Overview

Orphaned as a child, Miss Jane Milton lives to serve her Stover cousins, tending to their every need. Her beloved cousin Blair suffered a slow and painful death from wounds received at the Battle of Waterloo, and now, ten months later, Miss Milton feels utterly forlorn. Her one solace is caring for Lord Canfield's orphaned son, Andrew, a sad boy dogged by rumors that he was conceived before Lord Canfield married his mother. Is the source of these rumors Miss Milton's second cousin, the imperious Lady Carruthers, who seems determined to disinherit Andrew in favor of her own profligate son? If only Miss Milton could stand up to the horrid woman and her insults. Miss Milton finds herself spending more and more time in the company of her neighbor, a handsome tradesman. Mr. Butterfield, said to "smell of the shop," in fact smells deliciously of lavender. He has an encouraging effect on Miss Milton, helping her to understand that her world will not collapse if she learns to speak her mind. As her regard for her neighbor grows, Miss Milton remains aware of the many reasons they cannot be together. Fifteen years older, Mr. Butterfield is dangerously liberal-minded and earns his fortune through hard work. And she, whose aristocratic relatives look down on men of his ilk, is an impoverished spinster, almost thirty years old. In truth, the real gulf between them lies in the many guilty secrets they and others seem determined to guard at all costs.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781603819534
Publisher: Coffeetown Press
Publication date: 02/01/2014
Pages: 286
Product dimensions: 5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.71(d)

About the Author

A well-known veteran of the romance writing field, Carla Kelly is the author of forty-four novels and three non-fiction works, as well as numerous short stories and articles for various publications. She is the recipient of two RITA Awards from Romance Writers of America for Best Regency of the Year; two Spur Awards from Western Writers of America; three Whitney Awards, 2011, 2012, and 2014; and a Lifetime Achievement Award from Romantic Times. Carla's interest in historical fiction is a byproduct of her lifelong study of history. She's held a variety of jobs, including medical public relations work, feature writer and columnist for a North Dakota daily newspaper, and ranger in the National Park Service (her favorite job) at Fort Laramie National Historic Site and Fort Union Trading Post National Historic Site. She has worked for the North Dakota Historical Society as a contract researcher. Interest in the Napoleonic Wars at sea led to numerous novels about the British Channel Fleet during that conflict. Carla has also written novels set in Wyoming during the Indian wars, and in the early twentieth century that focus on her interest in ranching.

Read an Excerpt


"Miss Milton, won't you come inside until the rain lets up?" She had a ready excuse on her lips--it was late, she was expected at Stover Hall--and she would have delivered it, if she had not looked down at Mr. Butterworth's feet.

He was wearing house slippers of such a virulent shade of lime green yarn that the colors almost spoke to her. "Sir, what on earth are you doing out here worrying about me, when your feet are … my goodness, Mr. Butterworth, but that is an … an exceptional color."

He merely smiled and offered her his arm, and for some unaccountable reason, she took it. He will catch his death if I make him stand outside in the rain and argue about whether I should come inside, she rationalized as she let him hurry her along the lane toward the house. Heaven knows he is not a young man, even if he is not precisely old, either.

He did pause for a moment to raise up one slipper from the wet gravel of the lane. "My dear niece made these for me last Christmas. My sister teases me that they were only just Amanda's practice piece, but I think them quite acceptable."

"They are, indeed," she replied, as she allowed herself to be led where she had never gone before. "Am I to assume that you saw me from your window and thought I needed rescuing so badly that you would risk a present from a niece?"

She had never thought herself a witty person, but Mr. Butterworth threw back his head and laughed, which meant that the umbrella went, too, and the rain pelted on her forehead again.

"Oh, I am a poor Sir Galahad, indeed, Miss Milton," he said, when he straightened the umbrella. "But yes, that is it entirely." She smiled at him, thinking that no one in England looked less like Sir Galahad than Scipio Africanus Butterworth. She thought he might have over forty years to his credit, but she could not be sure. She was not tall, but standing this close to Mr. Butterworth, she felt even shorter than usual. He was taller even than Lord Denby, and massive without being fat. He could have been intimidating, had his general demeanor been less kind. Years ago over dinner at Stover Hall, Blair had declared that the Almighty had obviously broken the mold with the mill owner. She thought that unfair, and so informed her cousin with a vehemence that surprised her.

She thought of that now, as she found herself being led up the Butterworth lane to the front door. He was directing some pleasantry to her, but all she could see was what she always saw about him: the brownest of eyes with their glance of utter enthusiasm belonging to a far younger man. He also looked so benign, a trait she had never much associated with the district's general opinion of mill owners.

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