* * * * *
Miranda had never seen the dowager more shaken than she was now. There were tears running down her cheeks, although she made no sounds of sobbing as she watched her son's retreat.
She asked calmly, "Why did you lie to him?"
The dowager looked shocked. "I did not lie to him."
"I heard you in the garden. I heard you with the American. He is Simon's father, isn't he? Not Peter."
The sewing fell from her fingers to the ground unnoticed. "I can hold on to none of my vile, hurtful secrets, can I?" Her fury was intense when she raised her eyes. "Peter. Mr. Watson. They are one and the same." Her anger faded. "And yet not. Mr. Watson has taken America as his land and will not give her up."
"Find Simon," she whispered. "Go to him. You are his last hope. My last hope. I do not want to lose my son, but I have no power to sway him, only to hurt him. Perhaps you will believe me now that you have seen for yourself."
Nodding, Miranda wondered where he might have gone.
As if she read her mind, the dowager said softly, "He will ride. Perhaps he will fish at the pond. It is what he did when he was troubled as a boy."
"He is a man now," Miranda reminded her.
"Yes. He is a man. And I fear that I have been wrong in believing I knew him. I knew the boy, but perhaps I do not know the man." She gazed at Miranda, her eyes awash with tears. "I can but tell you to try the pond, for perhaps he is acting with the wounded nature of the boy he used to be, before he learned the truth."
Miranda did not even excuse herself before fleeing the garden for the stables.
The Fairy Tale Bride Page 41