“Lady Miranda, how exciting to see you again so soon.”
She didn’t bother to look at him. “Are you following me, Mr. Spencer? Because if you are, please stop. I despise overly assertive men.”
“I am merely getting a breath of the cool night air. And for your information, I do not need to be assertive with women. One look from me, and they usually invite me into their beds.”
Her loud huff had him rethinking his cruel and shocking words. No doubt she was still an innocent at her advanced years.
“Funny, I don’t recall inviting you into my bed all those years ago.”
Lowering his voice and leaning close to her ear he whispered, “No. But I do recall a certain time in the dark gardens at the Amesbury residence and you sticking your tongue down my throat.”
He should’ve seen the slap coming, but he didn’t. When it did, he relished it. And he certainly deserved it. More than that, it made him feel alive again and gave him hope that if his insult moved her to violence, then perhaps she still harbored a tender spot for him after all these years.
“Forgive me, milady that was uncalled for. I bid you goodnight. Unless you would care for a repeat of what transpired between us twelve years ago. I hear the gardens here are lovely at night with the moon casting shadows all around.”
With his heart hammering inside his chest, he bowed and backed away from her, wishing she would say something...anything to keep him standing right where he was. Or hope upon hope she would want a repeat of that incredible kiss that had haunted his dreams for years. Kissing her again would be like a taste of heaven...and hell. Always wanting more and never able to get enough. Doomed. His future was doomed.
***
Miranda turned her back on Spencer so he wouldn’t see her tears. Aunt Violet had insisted she enter into London Society during the Short Season and work her way up to the Season in the spring.
Personally, she would rather still be in Yorkshire taking her daily walks. But no, Aunt Violet was nearly out of money thanks to her no-good husband stealing everything she had two months ago. Two long and agonizing months. Her aunt had spent the last of her money on several new gowns for her. Against her will, she needed to marry. Just like the time when she was seventeen and had her first Season. What other choice did she have but to marry? Become a fallen woman and mistress to a wealthy gentleman? In her advanced years, nobody would want a mistress long in the tooth. Indeed, she would rather cut out her heart and feed it to wild dogs anyway. And she would be lucky to get any proposals of marriage. Her dowry no longer existed and rarely did a man marry without monetary gain. Which she possessed none of. Not to mention, she didn’t know if she was capable of being a proper wife and all that entailed. The thought of performing her wifely duties and having a man’s hands on her terrified her.
As she stood here weeping like a babe, she tried to come up with another way to procure the funds she and her aunt needed to live, other than marriage. Shame on her for inquiring about Mr. Spencer’s marital status when they’d arrived in London. And begging her aunt to obtain an invitation to Lord Sebastian and Lady Teagan’s engagement party. If word had come that Spencer had married, she would not be here tonight. Even after all these years, the pain of seeing him with someone else would have been unbearable. When word had reached her that he had, indeed, never married, her stomach had fluttered with elation. Much as it had when she’d spied him across the ballroom. It took all her self-control to look away and keep her eyes averted, knowing he was making a beeline straight for her. Somehow, she’d managed to keep her seat and not run toward him and make a fool of herself by flinging herself into his wonderful arms. Arms she’d ached to be held in over the years.
How embarrassing for thinking she could go through with the sham and flirt and woo Spencer to fall for her again. She could never do that because she realized something very important. When she witnessed him casually saunter her way, asking if the chair next to her was available, she found out she still loved him with everything she had inside her heart and soul. Even though he had never gone to her father and asked for her hand all those years ago, which broke her heart, she still loved him.
Oh, she tried for years to hate him but was never able to accomplish anything but anger and hurt. Eventually, those feelings changed back to caring and love. Why did he do it? Lead her on all those years ago only to decide not to propose? Waiting all those months while he mourned for his family members had paralyzed her. Fear, anger, hurt, need, desperation, and many more emotions plagued her on a daily basis. Never, in all her life, had she thought love not reciprocated would make a person die slowly inside until they existed in a lesser capacity.
Her parents could never understand her broken heart. They paraded every single, rich man in front of her for years to no avail. It was almost a blessing when they died of fever. Almost. She loved them and missed them every single moment of every day. She would give anything if they were here with her tonight. But the outcome would be the same. They needed money.
When she saw Spencer she had to bury her emotions deep down and act as if she didn’t give a fig about him. A performance worthy of the Covent Garden stage if she did say so herself.
What confused her was the emotions she witnessed in his eyes. Surprise, excitement with a touch of lust. Just as she remembered his eyes doing all those years before. Except after those emotions, his eyes turned sad. Which she didn’t quite understand. What did he have to be sad about? He was the one who never came for her. Left her with her heart ripped out of her chest and lying on the floor for any stranger to stomp on.
The entire time they talked just now her throat burned with unshed tears and her eyes stung. When she slapped him across the face and heard the gasps surrounding them, she almost begged his forgiveness. Never had she intended to hit him, but his words were so hurtful she just reacted to raw sensations churning inside her. Emotions making her crazy. Feelings and sentiments she didn’t know if she could let them escape the locked box she’d put them in. She had wanted to come here tonight. She had hoped to see him. Then she did, and feelings exploded inside her, and she became confused and unable to cope so she lashed out.
Then she retreated to the terrace hoping to rein in her run-a-way thoughts and emotions, and who showed up? Him. Was he stupid not to see how torn up she was? For twelve years she nursed a broken heart. Oh, shame on her for letting her shattered soul rule her life. The truth was, she liked her life in the country. She’d always been a person who liked solitude. She had several proposals over the years, but she couldn’t bring herself to marry a man who professed his love when she didn’t, or couldn’t, love him back. They deserved better. And she was nothing if not selfless.
Never once though, had she felt less of a woman without a man. Why were they taught early on in life that when they became of age, they would be introduced into Society and then marry and God willing, have children? To love, honor, and obey their husband.
Where were the words love, honor, and obey their wife?
Women were not objects to be desired, used for male pleasure then put aside until they needed the itch scratched again. Or wanted a pretty thing on their arm.
Perhaps she read too much and not always appropriate books. She particularly enjoyed reading this relatively new author, Mrs. Anne Smith. Such interesting and witty characters. And, of course, romance and love.
“Why me?” she mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
She pivoted around and came face to face with four complete strangers and the pregnant, Duchess of Wentworth with her lovely American accent.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. I was woolgathering.”
“Nothing to forgive. We all get lost in our thoughts at times. I saw you speaking to Spencer earlier and thought I would introduce my family to you. Bella, Countess of Northborough, Amelia, Countess of Bridgeton, Lady Teagan and Lady Penelope, this is Lady Miranda Carlton. The woman who stole our Spencer’s heart many years ago according to Bridgeton.”
>
“Bridgeton?” Miranda knew she’d heard the name before, but she couldn’t place the title. It was as though a cloud smothered her memory.
“My husband, William Spencer, Lord Bridgeton. Spencer’s cousin.” The young countess with the lovely brunette hair and kind brown eyes said.
“Oh. Yes. I remember Will...I mean...Lord Bridgeton. Although he was not Bridgeton when I knew him.” He married this young lady. Surely she must be half his age?
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Lady Northborough said. Spencer’s most recent love interest, so she’d been told by her aunt.
“It is lovely to meet you,” Lady Penelope said with a shy smile.
“It is a pleasure to make all of your acquaintances. And thank you, Duchess, for the invitation. My aunt and I haven’t been in town for many years and as you might imagine, the invitations stopped arriving years ago. It was most kind of you to add us to your invite list at such short notice. My aunt is, or rather was, friends with the dowager and appreciated being given the opportunity to renew their friendship.”
“She was thrilled to hear you were visiting London, and I imagine they are in a corner catching up on the years.”
“I have no doubt.”
“Please tell us something about Spencer from when he was young?” Bella asked with an inquisitive smile, making Miranda relax. She liked Bella and could not harbor any dislike for her for almost stealing Spencer’s heart from her. Because truthfully, his heart didn’t belong to her.
The memory of her first meeting had her smiling, recalling their conversation when dancing. A most wicked conversation to go with an equally scandalous dance. Although the waltz was not considered shocking anymore. “He was quite handsome and silver tongued.”
“Oh, he is still both I can assure you,” Bella said with a laugh.
“I’m glad to know that.” Something inside her chest melted at hearing Spencer had not changed. “The first night we met we danced the waltz, which was considered most inappropriate at that time. When I think back, I can’t believe my parents allowed it. But then again...never mind. We talked about unsuitable things. He made me laugh.”
“Unsuitable?” Bella hinted with a smile. “Sounds like our Spencer. Care to elaborate on the conversation?”
Miranda’s face heated. “I can’t say. Well...maybe...” Heat warmed her cheeks at remembering the long ago conversation. “Actually, I can’t.”
The five women stared at her and smiled, warm genuine smiles, which had her smiling back.
“No need to. We all have had conversations with Spencer we wouldn’t wish to repeat,” the Duchess said.
Bella chimed in, “I had been waiting my whole life for Myles to propose. Spencer so graciously offered to help make him jealous. And I must say we had fun for a time.”
“When my husband,” Amelia added,” arrived in London, after twelve long years, Spencer was shocked and enjoyed giving him a hard time in private. In public, he was like a mother hen daring anyone to speak or act disrespectful towards William.”
“He really hasn’t change at all, has he?” She couldn’t stop her insides from melting.
“No.” All the ladies spoke simultaneously.
Miranda remembered three young gentlemen who had graced her father’s suitable husband list. Wentworth and Northborough, although they weren’t Wentworth and Northborough then, as well as another friend of theirs she couldn’t remember.
“I once danced with Wentworth, before he was the duke. Although I have to say, he was young and not in the least interested in me or any of the debutants as I recall,” Miranda said thoughtfully. “I seem to remember he had quite a reputation. My parents had a list of gentlemen...” She hesitated, wondering how to explain.
“A marriage list,” Bella said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Yes, Wentworth and Northborough were on it. Although I don’t know why, as I recall, they were still in university. Also, another gentleman they were friends with. I can’t remember his name.”
“Edward Worthington, now the Marquess of Amesbury,” the Duchess supplied.
“Yes. It seems so very long ago.” She paused and exhaled. “At other times it seems like only yesterday.”
“Perhaps when we know each other better,” Bella said, “you will share more of your first Season with us and stories of Spencer.”
Chapter Six
Myles, William, Sebastian and Spencer stood inside the French doors watching the ladies on the terrace.
“If I were you I would be concerned about what, Emma, Bella, and Amelia are saying to Miranda. I don’t think you need to worry about Penelope or Teagan, as they haven’t known you long enough,” remarked William.
“Especially my wife,” Myles said with a knowing grin.
“Yes, well, I believe my cause can only improve.” Spencer raised his shoulders and lowered them.
“Your cause. Are you interested in Miranda...again?” William asked, shock on the edge of his voice
If it was up to him, he would walk away and never look back. But alas, his heart wouldn’t let him. All the feelings he had for Miranda burst forth. Obviously, they’d only been buried beneath the surface. He couldn’t walk away or give up until he tried to win her over again. He’d accomplished it once, how hard could it be twelve years later?
“It pains me to say that when I saw her tonight, my feelings from long ago resurfaced. My heart finally beat at full capacity after twelve years of not. And don’t any of you laugh at me. You are all in love with your wives and know exactly what I mean.”
“You do have me there, cousin. Would you like Myles and my help with this? We could tell her what an upstanding and honorable gentleman you are. That you dote on your elderly grandmother and two younger sisters. That you would make a perfect husband because you were raised with all women.”
“I was raised with all women.”
William looked at Myles and grinned. “My point exactly. Anyway, what have you got to lose? It’s not as though any other women are knocking down your door.”
“Nice, cousin, nice. Bloody hell, don’t look now, but all six ladies are coming our way.” He, however, couldn’t take his eyes off Miranda and the graceful way she glided across the floor.
Myles stepped forward, bowed over Miranda’s hand and Spencer wanted to take the man aside and pummel him to a bloody pulp.
“Lady Miranda, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Call me Myles as all our friends and family do.”
Bella put her hand on her husband’s forearm. “Myles, Lord Northborough, may I present Lady Miranda. Please forgive his manners. He has always ignored ton standards and rules of etiquette.”
“It is refreshing.” She curtsied quickly. “A pleasure to meet you, Myles.” Then she repeated her curtsy to Bridgeton. “It is nice to see you again, Lord Bridgeton.”
Bridgeton bowed. “Likewise, Lady Miranda.”
Spencer faded back and listened to the conversation surrounding him. For the life of him, he had no idea what anyone said. All he could do was stare at Miranda. The deep blue of her gown made her eyes appear more blue than green. The modest scooped neckline still managed to show off her breasts and he had to force himself not to stare at the creamy white swells. Several times, when he was not admiring her breasts, she locked eyes with him, nodded her head, blushed, and turned away.
Interesting. So she was not as indifferent to him as she let on. A waltz began playing and the married couples left to take the dance floor. Emma excused herself and left in search of her husband, no doubt. Penelope blushed profusely when a suitor came to claim his dance, which left Spencer and Miranda standing awkwardly. Since when did he tense up in the company of a beautiful woman? Since Miranda walked back into his life.
“Would you do me the honor of this dance?” He bowed at the waist and stayed down waiting for her reply. When it didn’t come, he stood with his heart lodged in his throat.
Except when he looked at Miranda she smiled hesita
ntly and murmured, “Yes.”
It had been twelve years since they danced together, but to Spencer it seemed like yesterday. She felt familiar and right in his arms. Natural as though they danced on a regular basis. And he had to admit, heavenly. Even through her dress and the layers of material beneath, her skin burned his hands. What he wouldn’t do to get her alone in a dark room and touch her skin with his bare fingers. Gloves were a damn nuisance.
“Your friends are very nice.”
“Yes, they are,” he agreed.
“Your cousin’s wife, Lady Amelia, is lovely.”
Spencer noticed her frown. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You frowned when you said Amelia’s name. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. It took me by surprise at how young she is. I was expecting someone more...my...age.”
“They only recently wed. I don’t know how much you know about him, but Bridgeton didn’t leave his country estate in Dover for twelve years and only came to London during the last Season. Even I didn’t see him for all that time. Wentworth was not favorable to the match at first. More like, he refused her to have anything to do with him. But eventually, he consented. Only an idiot would get in the way of love.”
“Yes, only an idiot?
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked shyly.
“For whatever I did to make you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, whatever gave you that idea?” Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink.
Hope. Her words and her blush gave him hope. “May I call on you tomorrow? Perhaps we could go for a ride in the park?”
“I would like that very much.”
When the band finished the last cord, he escorted Miranda to an empty chair and strolled away elated with hope. And a stupid grin plastered on his face for all to see. More than one person looked at him rather strangely. Bloody hell, he didn’t care if he looked like a love-sick fool, his insides were bursting alive.
This night was like living the night they first met all over again. This time the outcome of their relationship would be different. At least he hoped so. He didn’t think he would survive her refusal of marriage a second time. Did he really plan on proposing to Miranda?
Spencer meets his Lady Love Page 6