Willowswood Match

by Gayle Buck

  “You’ve a high and mighty way about you that appeals to a gentleman of my exacting character. Tell me, Miranda, when did you last feel the heat of passion a real man brings to a woman?” said Daggett. He caught her chin in a painful grip and brought his head down to hers.

  Miranda twisted her head so that his kiss went awry. She cracked him across the face with all the strength in her arm. Daggett let go of her abruptly and she fell back onto the seat of the gig. She was breathing quickly and indignation colored her cheeks. Her eyes were flashing dark pools of fury. She grabbed the thin whip that lay on the leather seat and raised it. “I shall thrash you within an inch of your life if you dare to lay a hand on me, Captain Daggett!”

  Captain Daggett rubbed his face where a red imprint was already visible across his cheekbone. His cold blue eyes were enraged, “You will regret your arrogance, madame. I promise you that!” He yanked his mount around and set spur to it, cantering off swiftly. Miranda sat stunned on the gig’s seat, trembling in every limb. She attempted to catch her breath.

  “Miss! Miss, be ye all right?”

  She looked around to find the caretaker standing beside the gig, an expression of acute concern in his eyes. She straightened her posture and unnecessarily brushed a shaking hand across her smooth hair. “Yes, Jacob. I was—was taken unawares. But I am fine.”

  “That be a proper scoundrel, miss. I never seen a gentleman act so disrespectful,” said the caretaker indignantly.

  “Well, it is over now. I doubt that Captain Daggett will again be so bold. Let us simply forget the incident ever happened, shall we? I will come again next week with fresh blooms,” said Miranda calmly. She picked up the reins and drove off. The caretaker looked after her, shaking his head in admiration for her composure.

  * * *

  Chapter 21

  Miranda was not so composed as her bearing led the caretaker to suppose. Daggett’s unexpected attack had revolted and appalled her, but she was particularly unsettled by his words. He had said something to the effect that he had detected a restlessness in her, obviously the sort of restlessness that led to such horrid advances. Miranda did not know what to believe. She had thought that the mask of content she wore was credible. She had taken such pains to cover her emotions from observant eyes. She had not even permitted herself the luxury of allowing her gaze to follow the viscount’s tall figure when he chanced to walk past her. But it was now patently clear to her that she was unsuccessful in hiding her true feelings.

  Miranda was surprised to find herself dashing away a few traitorous tears. The last time that Lord Townsend had kissed her she had been carried away by the most extraordinary anticipation. She had been so certain that he was about to declare himself. But he had only turned away to poke at the fire, and she had been left with her question unanswered.

  “Oh, you fool! That was his answer and you have been unwilling to accept it,” she exclaimed angrily. Lord Townsend did not love her or surely he would have said so in that sublime moment.

  The tears fell faster and Miranda could no longer effectively dash them away. She relied on the horse to bring her safely to Willowswood and fought to regain possession of herself before the groom came to take the horse’s head. She had halfway succeeded when she climbed down from the gig, but she knew that her control was fragile at best and that she was on the edge of a long-put-off bout of tears. “Thank you, Jenkins,” she said, and hurried up the steps.

  Crumpet opened the door to her and bowed her in with a smile. Miranda gave him a quick nod but did not exchange a few words with him as was her usual custom. She swiftly made for the staircase, wanting only to reach her bedroom and privacy. She heard a door open and a quick step. Miranda did not need to turn to know that Lord Townsend had come out into the entrance hall. “Miss Wainwright, I am happy to see that you have returned.”

  Miranda reached out for the newel post and stepped onto the stairs. “Forgive me if I do not stay to talk, my lord. I—I wish to see to the refurbishing of some gowns. The afternoon has gone so quickly, you know.”

  A strong hand caught her arm. “Come, Miss Wainwright. You can do better than that. If you wish to avoid me, tell me so and I will oblige you,” said Lord Townsend in a teasing voice. He was startled by the quick glance that she sent him. In that brief second he became aware of an air of distress about her. His fingers tightened on her slender forearm. “Miss Wainwright, what has occurred?”

  Miranda closed her eyes tight and swallowed. She shook her head. She was glad that her voice seemed almost natural when she spoke. “Why, nothing, my lord. Whatever are you referring to?”

  “Perhaps the fact that you cannot look me in the face, Miss Wainwright,” said Lord Townsend. He did not give her the choice of leaving the stairs, but made her step down. He drew her hand over his elbow and walked her into the drawing room. He released his hold on her only to close the door, then turned to look at her.

  Miranda had retreated across the room and now stood with her back to him as she lifted the curtain at the window. Her plaited crown of hair and slim neck and carriage were silhouetted by the late afternoon sun. Lord Townsend walked over to join her at the window. He set his gaze on her neat profile. “Now, Miss Wainwright, I wish to know what has so obviously upset you.”

  “It was nothing of great moment, truly. I would be too embarrassed to tell you,” said Miranda with a small laugh.

  Lord Townsend was not deceived. “You are not a lady easily intimidated or overset. Something has occurred that has shaken you and I demand to be told what it is.”

  “I have nothing to relate, my lord.” Miranda turned away from him with the intention of quitting the drawing room, but he foiled her by the simple device of putting his arms about her and drawing her back against his chest. Miranda stood stiffly in the circle of his arms. She could feel the hot tears at the back of her throat. Why had he come out of the study at just that moment? she thought despairingly.

  “Miranda, I do not intend to let you escape so easily.” His breath ruffled her hair warmly.

  Miranda made a small sound of protest to which Lord Townsend paid not the least heed. She put up her hand to dash away a tear. “Oh very well! It was Daggett.” She felt Lord Townsend’s body stiffen. “I was leaving the church and he said something— something despicable…”

  She was turned swiftly about. Lord Townsend’s fingers flexed on her shoulders. His eyes were strangely alight and his expression was harsh. “Never mind what Daggett said. I know you better than to think mere words would upset you. Miranda, did Daggett dare—did he touch you?” The viscount read the answer in her eyes. Abruptly he let go of her. He strode to the drawing room door and wrenched it open.

  Miranda realized his intent. She ran after him and put out a quick hand to catch his sleeve. “Andrew! It was not what you think! At least, not quite. I struck him so forcibly that he released me. I am quite all right, pray believe me. It was only a nasty incident. I do not think he will dare another.”

  “I assure you that he will not,” said Lord Townsend harshly.

  Miranda looked up at him, her hand still on his arm. “My lord, surely you do not intend to challenge him over it! Pray do not. The humiliation would be beyond anything. I do not desire that my name even be whispered in the same breath as his!”

  Lord Townsend stared frowningly at her. After a moment his tight mouth relaxed. “You are right as usual, Miranda. For me to publicly confront Daggett would be the worst thing that I could do. Immediately tongues would be set wagging that there must be more than a private insult between us. Captain Daggett’s attentiveness toward you is well known and it would be pointed out that I am your cousin. In the end your reputation would suffer, my dear Miss Wainwright.”

  Miranda would recall that conversation with a sense of irony. Not many days passed before she noticed that ladies who had treated her with friendliness now turned away from her when she chanced to encounter them in the village. Their demeanor was cold, their greetings if spoken
at all were reserved and contemptuous. Miranda did not know what to think. She had done nothing to bring down on her head such universal dislike and there grew a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The situation struck her as similar to that which she had left behind in Massachusetts when she had broken her engagement to Harrison Gregory and had been treated to an incredible snubbing. What troubled Miranda most was that this time she had no clue of how she had sinned.

  Miranda was distressed enough that she was driven to confide in Anne. “I do not understand it, Anne. I have told you what happened when I jilted Harrison Gregory and the resulting scandal. I was practically ostracized from polite society. This has the same feel to it and yet I do not know why it is happening,” said Miranda. She brushed her hand across her aching brow. “I don’t know that I can go through it again. I truly don’t.”

  Anne’s pretty face was puckered in a frown. “It is outrageous. I, too, am certain that something has happened, for at chapel conversations end abruptly whenever I approach. I am at as much a loss as you.” She looked over at her cousin with a sudden air of determination. “I shall get to the bottom of it, Miranda, I promise you. I shan’t stand by and watch you shunned and snubbed. There is one lady whom I can trust to tell me the truth. I shall visit her this very hour.”

  “If you do not mind, I shall not accompany you. You will undoubtedly be received more graciously if I am not present,” said Miranda with a bitter twist to her lips. Anne nodded in agreement. Before she left the drawing room she paused to give Miranda a fierce hug.

  As Anne hurried away, Miranda was surprised by the rush of tears to her eyes. She had not thought that she was so vulnerable, but apparently her spirits were lower than even she had known. “This will not do,” she said aloud. She straightened her shoulders and left the drawing room with the thought of taking refuge in the herb garden. There she could be assured of virtual privacy and only the flowering shrubs and sweet-smelling herbs would be witness to her perturbation.

  Anne returned to Willowswood sometime later. She was in a state of high indignation and could hardly remain silent until she was private with Miranda. “I went to call on Mrs. Averidge. I knew that she would be unable to withstand my entreaties and so it was. She was very reluctant to spread gossip, as she put it, but I finally won her over,” said Anne swiftly, pulling off her bonnet and gloves with jerky movements.

  Miranda was alarmed by her cousin’s high color and unusually agitated movements. “Anne, pray calm yourself. You are not well enough that you should let yourself be distressed.”

  “Bother my distress!” exclaimed Anne, rounding on Miranda. Her blue eyes sparkled with fury. “Miranda, I was told that Captain Daggett has put it about that you are secretly married to a bounder and a scoundrel named Jeremy Wainwright. Furthermore, Captain Daggett has dared to hint that you are no better than you should be and that he has made a conquest of you.”

  “What!” Miranda was startled into laughter. It was so outrageous as to be ludicrous. She abruptly stopped laughing when she saw that her cousin’s face remained grim. “You are serious, Anne. This— this ridiculous farrago is what has caused me so much anxiety. Why, how can anyone believe such non-sense?”

  “So I asked Mrs. Averidge. I told her that Jeremy Wainwright is your brother and that I have known him for years. As for Captain Daggett’s heavy hints that he has had an affair with you, I denied it strenuously. But she shook her head, saying that she did not know how such a mistake could be made. But I could see that she did not quite believe me. When I took my leave I pleaded again for her understanding of the truth. She patted my hand with a pitying look and said that my loyalty to you did me credit, if you please! I was never more infuriated in my life,” said Anne.

  Miranda stared into the air. “He said that I would regret my arrogance, you know.” She glanced at her cousin. “I did not tell you before, Anne. When I took flowers to the church two weeks ago, Captain Daggett chanced to ride up. He made horrid advances to me and I rebuffed him quite strenuously. He threatened that I would regret what I had done, and I suppose this is his way of revenging himself on me.”

  “It’s despicable! But why did you not tell me before, Miranda? Between us, we might have foreseen what he meant to do, especially after receiving Jeremy’s letter and learning that Daggett was disciplined for actions unbecoming a King’s officer. Perhaps I could have discreetly made it known what a blackguard he is and thus saved you this heartache,” said Anne.

  “I did not think, I suppose. I honestly thought that would be the end of it,” said Miranda. She wavered on the point of confessing to Anne that Lord Townsend had learned of Daggett’s advances and had almost issued a challenge to the man, but she dreaded Anne’s exclamations. Little as she wished to be thought infatuated with Captain Daggett, it would be infinitely worse to have even her beloved cousin begin to speculate that Lord Townsend might care for her. She knew the truth of the matter and it pained her too much to wish the question explored by a third party.

  “I mean to inform Andrew of this preposterous tale the moment that he returns from the hunt. Then we shall see how Captain Daggett is to be dealt with,” said Anne, a martial light in her eyes.

  Miranda’s cheeks flamed. “No! I could not bear—”

  “Do not be ridiculous, cousin!” said Anne sharply. “Andrew will be as furious as I that your reputation has been so infamously besmirched. And he is a gentleman. Gentlemen have ways of dealing with their own who cross the line.”

  * * * *

  Lord Townsend had enjoyed the hunt. He was leading his horse back to the hunting lodge at Stonehollow for some well-earned refreshment when Miss Burton pulled up her mount to walk beside him. “Good afternoon, Miss Burton,” said Lord Townsend.

  She smiled at him. “And to you, my lord! I have never enjoyed anything half as much in my life,” she said, her violet eyes sparkling. Her color was becomingly high and the wind had loosened a few curls and blown them about her face.

  Looking up at her, Lord Townsend had to admire such an abundance of beauty. Miss Burton was a spoiled young woman and at times spiteful, but much could be forgiven such a face and figure. She was a regular goer at hounds as well and had gained his respect for her smart riding. “I am impressed with your style, Miss Burton. I have seldom seen such clean jumping executed by a lady,” he said.

  Miss Burton preened herself a little. “Thank you, my lord. I have always adored horses, so naturally my mounts all respond handsomely. And today’s hunt was particularly invigorating, do you not agree?”

  Lord Townsend laughed up at her. “Quite. It but needed the rest of the neighborhood to become a regular circus.”

  “Oh, I don’t suppose we could have gotten Miss Wainwright to join us,” said Miss Burton with a slight titter. “Poor thing, she is quite out of favor these days. I am certain that it must be a trial to her.”

  Lord Townsend glanced up at his beautiful companion with a slight frown. “What do you mean, Miss Burton?”

  Miss Burton eyed him in surprise and then with speculation. Of late Lord Townsend had been more than normally inclined to appreciate her company. She had assumed that he was influenced by the gossip circulating about Miss Wainwright, but apparently that was not so. Perhaps he was simply beginning to come around. She had always thought of Miranda Wainwright as her true competition for the viscount and conceivably she had just been handed a golden opportunity to deal her rival a fatal blow. “Surely you have heard, my lord. Why, Miss Wainwright’s name has been linked with Captain Daggett’s. I myself do not indulge in gossip, of course, but I must say that the story is heard every-where,” she said indifferently. She bent to pat her mare’s sweating neck. She was startled when her wrist was caught between steely fingers.

  Lord Townsend stared into her astonished eyes. “What story do you refer to, Miss Burton?” he asked pleasantly.

  Disliking the viscount’s ungentle hold, Miss Burton glanced deliberately at her imprisoned wrist. “My lord, you are h
urting me,” she said. But she discovered that she was not always to be indulged. The viscount was not thrown into discomfiture by her displeasure. If anything, Lord Townsend’s eyes hardened. Of a sudden, his tight-lipped expression rather frightened her.

  “I wish the round tale. Miss Burton.”

  Miss Burton cast her eyes about for possible succor, but the field was deserted of fellow huntsmen. She looked down again at Lord Townsend. “It—it is merely a rumor, my lord. Miss Wainwright is said to have succumbed to Captain Daggett’s blandishments. What is considered equally shocking is that Miss Wainwright supposedly hides a secret marriage in her past. I am certain there is nothing in it, truly.”

  Lord Townsend’s smile was not pleasant. “I trust that I know Miss Wainwright too well to believe such evil of her. I hope you do not think me ungentlemanly, Miss Burton, but I must insist upon knowing who originated this rumor. Ah, I can see in your eyes that you do know! Who was it, Miss Burton?” His fingers tightened about the lady’s wrist.

  Miss Burton winced. Suddenly her temper flared. She had never been treated with such disrespect. Recklessly she threw discretion to the winds. “If you must know, it was Captain Daggett himself! And I would not be so sure that your precious Miss Wainwright is innocent. Captain Daggett is quite the lady’s man, as I have occasion to know, and he tells a vastly pretty tale regarding Miss Miranda Wainwright!” She tore free from the viscount’s loosening grip and plunged her spur into her mount’s side. The mare snorted and bolted away, its hooves throwing great clods of earth into the air.

  Lord Townsend did not look after Miss Burton. She was already forgotten. He threw himself into the saddle and spurred his own horse into action. He thought he knew where Captain Daggett might be found. His dark eyes glittered. The naval officer would not find their upcoming meeting a pleasant one.

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  Chapter 22