“But I didn’t mean to do any wrong. I had the best of intentions.”
“Miranda, you’ve always been a proud girl. Being Winterton’s child, I don’t suppose there was any chance you would come out any other way. But if you love this impoverished, overly arrogant nobleman that you’ve selected, then you must love him in the way he needs to be loved. Not the way you imagine would be fair.”
Miranda’s face flushed hotly for she was uncomfortable and not a little indignantly angry about being so closely examined and by one who surely had no right to judge her at all. She made a great matter of adjusting her gloves. “I did not come here solely to accuse you. I wondered if you needed anything for your comfort.”
The bond of blood and that former gratitude. Some feelings died hard, even if it was illogical to her mind. Even if it warred mightily with her anger and desire to walk away and never return. For so long life had offered her nothing but confusion.
And pain.
Now she had driven Adrian away from her. His love, tenderness and compassion had been her only solace. Her only guiding light in this world of darkness and confusion.
“Do not distract from the topic, girl. Yes, I understand that there is a good measure of self-protection in hiding behind a wall of pride. And it certainly gives a woman an air of mystery and unattainability that adds to her allure—but what benefits a courtesan may well run contrary to a wife’s best interests.” Cassandra’s gaze narrowed, thoughtfully. “We all have our sins. You think I was greedy and callous to take the opportunity that Winterton gave us?”
“I think that what you did, to a drunken eighteen-year-old virgin, the son of your protector, a man who was in love with you, was beyond any shred of human decency,” Miranda said, coldly. “But you were the only one to help me and Mama when he turned us out. I cannot in good conscience shun you in your dying days.”
“You may be correct. Perhaps I shall burn in hell for all eternity for what I did. We all have our weaknesses, our blindness. We all have to make decisions in life. And you are no different. If my sin is greed and advice, then yours is surely pride.” Cassandra leaned forwards again, her voice becoming more insistent. “Go home and apologize to your lord. Beg his forgiveness.”
“I did nothing wrong.”
“Yet, he thinks that you did.”
Miranda stood. “I must go.”
“Suit yourself, Miranda, be a fool. It does not matter to me. I’ve done what I can for you. I am done with this world and its intrigues.” Cassandra leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
****
“You’ve been silent.”
Jon’s words were a most unwelcome interruption. Adrian had been listening to the roll of the carriage and feeling the motion of the vehicle and allowing those sensations to lull his body into numbness.
“I have much to think on,” Adrian replied with an edge of vexation he hoped would discourage any further inquiries. He couldn’t stop replaying the Duke of Heathford’s words in his mind, trying to discern what was truth and what was not.
“I’d think a man who had just been given a complete reprieve would be more grateful with the world. At the very least, I wouldn’t expect this hostility towards me, your cousin. I am on your side in this, remember?”
Adrian scowled at him. “It’s not a real reprieve. I’ve been ordered to leave England, remember?”
“That’s not a legally valid mandate. You could ignore it.”
“No, it is not legally valid. But if I do ignore it, will they then decide to charge me with murder? Will Winterton’s allies find witnesses who will lie?” Until this evening, he had been convinced that he could find justice, if only he believed in the decency of his fellow peers. Now, having looked into Heathford’s eyes, glowing with evil pleasure as he had related every aspect of his one night with Miranda, years ago. And then with icy murderous hate in his eyes, he confessed to how he had despised Adrian’s father and how he would do anything for his revenge.
Heathford made plain that Miranda had displayed her full, salacious skills upon the most influential men in the House of Lords and that the charges would be dropped, specifically due to her actions, her ability to please those noblemen and draw their sympathy to herself. Heathford made clear that he was not happy with that particular turn of events.
Adrian wondered at the depth of corruption in his peers. His father, Winterton, Heathford—good God, that sampling was not much to inspire confidence that he could receive a fair trial in the shadow of his father’s many sins.
For himself, Adrian would risk anything, stand up to anything. But his life did not involve just himself.
“I can’t risk a trial. I have an heir. I cannot risk losing the title. I must make this sacrifice for Brentwood’s sake.” Adrian sighed. “And perhaps it is best that Miranda and I do go away. The scandal of our marriage, the scandal of her father’s death… these things will only grow in proportion as long as we are in society’s view.”
“So, this is something you have considered all along?”
“No, not seriously. Not until tonight.” Adrian seethed inside and suddenly he could hold back no longer. Here, alone with this one close male relative that he trusted, he allowed himself to admit what was eating so viciously at his gut. “What the hell did she do to convince them to drop their investigation?”
“The investigation is not completely dropped.”
“It will be when the vote is taken tomorrow.”
“What do you imagine that she did?”
“I don’t need to imagine, Heathford told me.”
“Heathford is an unreliable source.”
“Why would she even place herself in that position?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” Jon frowned. “But don’t be a prig about this, Adrian.”
“What devil does that mean?”
“No matter what she has done, remember, she was terrified for you. If you really love her, you can extend leniency in this case.”
“You make me sound like a monster. Of course, I understand that she was motivated by fear for me. I do not accuse her. But dear God, if this is true, how will I ever forget?”
“You must forget, for her sake.”
“What if she were yours?”
“She’s not. I am not the one who married a former courtesan.”
“What the devil?” Adrian could barely keep from snarling at his cousin’s impertinence.
“You wed a former courtesan and now you complain that she’s no better than she ought to be?” Ruel scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. “If you weren’t in such a weakened condition, I would stop this carriage, drag you out side and thrash your stubborn hide.”
“By God, I’d like to see you try,” Adrian replied in a grumbling tone as he shifted on the seat.
“Adrian, just for a moment, try and think of more than just your bruised pride. If she used the skills learned in her former life, it is because that is all she has known. It was the only value she had to use in order to beg clemency for you.”
“You sound like you approve.”
“Because I do. I used and exhausted every measure of influence at my disposal. No matter what she did to bring about your release, I am damned grateful to her.” Jon fixed him with a look. “And you should be too.”
“Grateful?”
“Aye, grateful that she loves your worthless arse.”
“What has brought this sudden animosity towards me?”
“Because you are acting like a spoiled boy. She saved your arse. Maybe you’ll never know for sure what she did to make that happen. If you love her, it won’t matter in the long-term. Show her some gratitude.”
“It’s not just this,” Adrian said, tersely.
“No? What else did she do? Did she betray you?”
“It felt like a betrayal.”
“But it was not exactly a betrayal?”
“It certainly an example of exceedingly bad judgment. And proof that she has not completely l
eft the morals and reasoning of a courtesan behind.” Adrian exhaled loud and lengthy. “I love her, I do. Completely. But I do not know that I can forgive what—”
“Listen to you. You would risk losing all that you have with her because she had a moment when her judgment wasn’t what you felt it should be? Perhaps she was angry and hurt with you? Maybe this clouded her powers of reasoning?”
“You mean that she deliberately did it to strike back at me?”
“Maybe not something that intentional. Women have so few choices when compared to men. And they are so powerless.”
“Powerless?” Adrian scoffed. “From my view, women have always held the reins in most situations.”
Ruel shook his head. “No, you think only of your father’s situation. He was a man bent on his own destruction. He placed himself into predicament after predicament, seeking punishment, inviting abuse. Any man who believes that women don’t suffer from a lack of power and choices in our world, is deceiving himself in the worst of all possible ways. I remember how my grandfather forced my mother from his house and forced her to leave me behind. I have never forgotten.”
“I have not treated Miranda in any fashion that could ever be called abusive,” Adrian responded, his indignation growing by the moment.
“But you did treat her most unfairly. You left her here in England, telling her that you would be gone only a matter of months, you were gone nearly a year. With no valid explanations. And then without consulting her, you took it upon yourself to risk your liberty and life to do away with the problem of her father—
“Was I to let that devil live?”
“No, of course not. I would have done the same. But she deserved to know your plans. You left her in the worst state of worry and concern.”
“I did what I felt was necessary to protect her and I didn’t want her to worry.”
“There was no way for her to escape the worry.”
“I did what I felt was the best for all concerned, I am the one responsible. I owed no one any explanations.”
“Not even her?”
“No, not even her. Not at the time.”
“Adrian, she no longer your whore.”
“Watch what you say and your choice of words,” Adrian replied, in a growling tone.
Jon returned his glower calmly. “I repeat for you since you are so obviously not listening. She’s not your whore, she’s your wife and yes you did owe her explanations. What if you had died? Did she even know how and what she must do to safeguard herself and Davey?”
“You would have helped her.”
“She’s your wife. Your countess. What good is the title if she doesn’t feel that she’s really your wife in more than a name? That she has the full power that any other countess would have? Why raise her up to the title if you never intended to extend her full respect?”
Indignant anger rose hotly within Adrian. “You have not always managed your marriage in the best possible way.”
“No, I haven’t. And I nearly paid a most dear price for that failure.”
Adrian said nothing.
“Don’t let this episode spoil your happiness with her.
“Arrogance will surely be your downfall,” Jon said. “If you don’t take care you will lose her.”
“I will never give her up.”
“You can lose her love even if she remains your wife. Surely you realize this.”
Adrian crossed his arms over his chest and directed his attention out the window at the drizzle falling on the street.
Chapter Thirteen
The sound of someone entering by the main door of her house in Chelsea sent Miranda flying from the upstairs corridor where she had been hovering, waiting… She ran down the stairs just as Adrian was handing his hat to Mrs. Williams.
“Good evening, Miranda.”
Miranda nodded a greeting back to Ruel. But the lump in her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak.
Adrian turned. His eyes met hers, cold and blue as the sea in winter.
“Adrian—”
“Hush, Miranda. Not now.” He approached her and put one hand on her shoulder then gave her a quick, harsh kiss.
She watched his departing back with her mouth slightly open. He went towards the study. The sound of the door shutting held finality that made her stomach lurch. She turned back to Ruel, knowing her eyes were full of questions.
Ruel’s thin lips twisted. “He’s acting like a horse’s arse. Let us hope that some time alone does improve his disposition.”
Her insides seemed to be collapsing upon themselves, with dread. “Does he… know?”
“Know what, my lady? Heathford told him great many things. Things I suspect that are not the full truth.”
Oh, no. God, no.
A miserable moan escaped her. “Does he know that Heathford is demanding that he leave England?”
Ruel nodded, his expression grim. He stepped towards her then took her hand. “Come my lady, you look utterly exhausted. Let us have some wine.”
****
The clock had just chimed three in the morning. Tucked in her bed, Miranda stared at the ceiling. Ruel’s final words to her kept echoing in her mind.
Someone has to give over first. Men aren’t usually very good at giving over.
But why should she be the one to apologize?
She couldn’t imagine what Heathford had told Adrian but couldn’t he understand that she made a sacrifice for his safety. To save his life?
She’d done nothing in her way that he wouldn’t have done, that he had already done—for her in his own way.
But this was also about what had happened between herself, Rebecca and Drake.
But why couldn’t he understand that she had done that, trying to heal and grow, so that she could love him more completely?
You broke my trust and you’ve done it for nothing… I have no wish for that act as you call it, from any woman. Not even you.
Adrian’s words tormented her and with a cry she rolled to her stomach and gave her pillow a few punches.
It didn’t really help to release her pent-up tension. She exhaled with a low growl. Cassandra’s words came back to challenge her:
Miranda, you’ve always been a proud girl. Being Winterton’s child, I don’t suppose there was any chance you would come out any other way. But if you love this impoverished, overly arrogant nobleman that you’ve selected, then you must love him in the way he needs to be loved. Not the way you imagine would be fair.
Had she really inherited her pride from Winterton? Gads, what a frightening, unsettling thought!
She had thought that her pride was a self-protective mantle. A justified protection given the course of her life.
Yet now she was wed to a man who had, in the past, given to her without reservation. He made the ultimate risk and sacrifice to protect her.
She had been in love with Adrian all this time. She had accepted his quirks and habits. But she had not yet come to a deep, wifely understanding of how best to show him that love. What chance had she had? He’d left her almost as soon as they had wed.
Surely, if he loved her, she deserved a second chance to prove her loyalty?
She wasn’t sure.
Aside from the little she’d been exposed to Anne and Jon, she had never witnessed a true marriage. She had only seen provider and courtesan alliances.
Jon had shared a most intriguing opportunity with her tonight. But in order for them to make the most of it, it required her and Adrian to be strong in their commitment with each other. But they couldn’t be strong with this matter of their hurt feelings and bruised pride between them. They must learn to overcome such impasses or else they would destroy their love and themselves in the process.
I would have thought you would be stronger your pride, Miranda.
Cassandra’s final, challenging words taunted her. With a groan, she threw off the coverlet and found her wrapper, drawing it over her nightdress.
She went to the study do
or, raised her fist and knocked.
A strong, confident sound, she noted with satisfaction.
“Enter.”
Adrian’s deep voice sent currents of apprehension through her but she pushed the sensation away, lifted her chin and opened the door. She would make this simple and to the point. She would accept his judgment of her wrongdoing in the matter of Stephen and Rebecca and say that she was sorry that he had found that hurtful. Then she would assure him that she had managed to sway the noblemen without giving herself.
She would remain cool and in control. She would inspire his confidence and respect.
She softly closed the door behind her then turned to face him.
He wasn’t sitting at his desk, as she thought to find him. She scanned the chamber and found him lying back on the settee near the fire. He was in his shirtsleeves, his open waistcoat showing his rumpled shirt glowing yellowish white in the firelight. His hair was mussed, as though he might have been running his fingers through it repeatedly.
His expression was no longer closed and cold.
Instead, he looked somewhat boyish, his expression somehow… lost.
She attempted to stand straighter, to say what she had come to say.
But her knees went weak and she began to shake all over. Memories of today, of Heathford, were holding all the power over her. All the emotional power of her desperate hopes. Her distaste to think she would have service those men. Her miserable fear upon her failure to be able to play the harlot, it all came crashing over her.
A sense of the utter ugliness of life overwhelmed her.
“Oh, Adrian!” The words torn themselves from her, despite her desire to remain dignified. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh Adrian…” It was all she could say.
He extended a hand.
She ran to him.
He pulled her into his embrace and helped her to settle herself part way in his lap. Her legs splayed ungracefully behind her on the settee. “My love,” he said, before putting his lips to the top of her head.
Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) Page 13