by Heather Boyd
Miranda had probably worn a similar look when she’d spoken to others of her impending marriage to Taverham. The first rush of love is often the most important to a woman. And yet Miranda marveled at the way Agatha had glossed over what must have been an entirely horrendous period in her life. Always looking for the bright side in a bad situation, always hoping for the best when the worst was coming, Agatha rarely let disappointments linger in her mind.
Lord Carrington had almost married another, and gentlemen could not break engagements without consequences. The cost would be high both socially and financially, as she well knew. She held Agatha’s hand between her own firmly. “I read about the breach of promise in the papers, Agatha. According to reports it was an expensive and protracted business that surely placed a strain on your and Carrington’s connections. Is it very bad for you still?”
Agatha glanced down at her fingers, shielding her face from view. “It is not the best, especially with the size of our family. So hard to avoid notice when it takes three carriages to transport us all, but I would not have it any other way.”
A piercing howl rang through the house, loud enough to make even Agatha glance up. “I love my life and my family.”
Miranda patted her hands firmly. “I am glad, Agatha. I would—” She stopped because of a movement at the edge of her vision. When she turned her head slightly, she saw a tiny child, a girl of about seven or so hugging the doorframe as if afraid to venture closer. Miranda smiled. “And who is this pretty creature?”
Agatha giggled and wiggled her fingers at the child to invite her to join them. “This is Jemma, our second-to-youngest daughter. Jemma, come pay your respects to my cousin, Lady Taverham.”
Miranda inclined her head. “How do you do?”
The little girl bustled across the room at a spritely pace and then thrust out her hand as gentlemen were prone to do with each other. “My lady.”
Smiling at the bold child, Miranda took her hand and was granted three firm shakes.
The little girl’s brow creased. “Do you know when Simon and Mabel are coming back?”
Agatha pulled the child to her side. “Lady Taverham likely does not as she has not met your brother and sister yet. They will be home when Papa is done with his errands. Have you finished with your studies already?”
The little girl looked so incredibly guilty for not being finished that Miranda laughed. She leaned forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”
The little girl nodded quickly.
“Your day will be much more pleasant if you do the things you least like first.”
The child’s eyes narrowed. “Like eating cabbage?”
Miranda laughed again. “No, I would not suggest eating cabbage for breakfast, but do your studies first, child, and make your mama proud.”
The little girl brightened, kissed Agatha’s cheek, and hurried away. Agatha swiveled around to stare at Miranda. “Well, it seems you’ve developed a knack for managing children that you never had before. She is the most difficult to please. I would have spent a quarter hour convincing her to return upstairs to the others. She is always afraid she will miss out.”
Miranda grinned, thinking of the tactics she’d needed to learn swiftly to get Christopher to do anything he hadn’t wanted to. Her son was not always the most biddable child in existence. “I must have developed the knack from somewhere.”
Agatha sighed deeply. “If only half the people we met took so well to them on first meeting. They tend to frighten more timid acquaintances into never calling again.”
“Children are meant to be loud. Isn’t that what we agreed when we were young?”
If there was anything Miranda could do in the future to help Agatha financially, she would. She had at least ten years of pin money coming to her that might be more use to them than gathering dust in Taverham’s now-bursting coffers. A few extra servants, experienced with the demands of managing a large family, might be just the ticket to ease the burden on Agatha’s slender shoulders.
“Loud and occasionally dirty, with no thought to their consequence and rank.” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So, you are a marchioness now.”
The last time Miranda had been with Agatha was a month before the wedding and they’d both been simply Miss Birkenstock and had played with Agatha’s many dolls. Agatha had been quite young then and in awe of the future ahead for Miranda. “I am, my dear Lady Carrington.”
Agatha giggled. “When you say it like that I hear the cousin I knew.”
“I have not changed so very much. I simply am far less impressed by the lofty and empty titles we both have now.”
“How has Taverham taken your return? He must be overjoyed to see you again. I’ve not met with him in some weeks, though I sensed the last time we met that all was not well with him. Oscar suggested I was imagining a change. Is he well?”
Miranda was sure she knew exactly what had been on Taverham’s mind—having her declared dead no doubt and worrying that he might have to repay her dowry to her father’s estate. That must have given him nightmares. “I expect he is irritated. We met last night and I left him to his own amusements. You’ll not find me at Twilit House; I have not returned to my husband.”
Agatha blinked several times. “Whyever not?”
“I have some errands to run first, and I prefer to keep my business to myself for the time being. In fact, I should be about them right now.” Miranda stood reluctantly. “Do forgive me for rushing off again, but I wanted to be sure you saw me first before you read whatever nonsense the papers choose to report today. I am well and indeed alive, and that is all that matters. I will come and see you again soon, I promise.”
Agatha stood too, her expression panicked. “The next time you come must be for an entire day, at least. You must. We have so much to catch up on. I’ll make sure Oscar is here at first to distract the children, or maybe we could all go on a picnic together. Somewhere the children might run about and exhaust themselves while we talk.”
Such a day sounded extremely pleasant. Miranda hadn’t been on such an outing in a very long time. She smiled at her cousin. “I’d like that very much.”
Miranda embraced Agatha, held her cousin tightly against her and rocked her from side to side ever so slowly. “You have grown so beautiful, as I was sure you would. I am glad you found your happiness, my dear.”
When they drew apart, Agatha studied Miranda’s face until Miranda grew uncomfortable. “But you haven’t, have you? I’ve never seen you so unhappy.”
Miranda’s eyes stung at how perceptive her cousin had become. She’d thought she’d hidden her bitterness so much better. She forced a smile and squeezed Agatha’s hand one last time. “I was happy once and in time I hope to be once more.”
Miranda turned for the door before she blurted out the truth to the one person who might understand. In coming back she’d known she’d need to face her past and the decisions she’d made for her life. What she hadn’t expected was how badly she wanted to tell someone about Christopher. But until she had her keepsake safely in her grasp once more, Miranda couldn’t dare. No one would believe her without seeing him first.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lord Louth’s residence in Golden Square was an impressive mansion that had been in the man’s family for generations, as Kit’s had been. As he stepped over the threshold at the butler’s invitation, he glanced around the entrance, struck at once by the elegance and simple grace of the furnishings around him.
“I’d like to speak with Lord Louth if possible, Gibbs,” he said as he removed his hat from his head in the cool interior.
“How nice to see you again, my lord.” The older man beamed. “But I am afraid Lord Louth is away from home at present.”
Damn. Instead he said, “Did he by chance mention where he was going? Perhaps I can run him to ground at the club or some other destination and ask my question there.”
A public discussion wasn’t really what Kit wanted, but he could certainly dra
w him aside long enough to demand his wife’s location.
The old man frowned. “He called for his carriage unaccountably early this morning, I believe, but did not expand on his destination. His cousin is in the morning room presently. Perhaps Miss Crewe might be able to help you and shed some light on when the earl will return.”
Kit bit his lip and glanced around. What if Miranda was in this house right now? He’d be a fool to rush away without checking. “Yes, that will do for now if she has time to see me.”
Gibbs hurried off at a slow shuffle while Kit paced the entrance hall. Above him, all seemed quiet, and when Gibbs opened a door at the end of the short hall he heard only the faint clatter of silverware on porcelain dishes. Eagerness gripped him. Could Miranda be just a few yards away?
Gibbs appeared. “Miss Crewe will see you now.”
Kit hurried forward, eyes darting into the rooms he passed for signs of his wife. He found none between the entrance hall and the breakfast room he was led to.
Miss Crewe stood alone beside the long mahogany board and dipped a curtsy, her bright red hair gleaming in the morning light spilling from the window behind her. “My Lord Taverham. What an unexpected pleasure.”
He studied Miss Crewe carefully, looking for nervousness. He found nothing in her matter that hinted she was anxious about his visit.
“Thank you for seeing me on short notice, Miss Crewe. It’s been far too long since we’ve met.” Kit bowed to Louth’s cousin, a woman who’d been part of Martin’s household for years but was rarely seen about in society. Miss Whitney Crewe preferred to keep to herself whenever possible.
She smiled, revealing slightly crooked teeth and dimples that gave her a much prettier countenance. “It pleases me to be remembered. I’m sorry Martin is not here to greet you. I hope you don’t mind conducting our discussion while I’m still at breakfast. The hour is early and I simply cannot drag myself away from the paper’s astounding news today. Would you care to eat? The coffeepot is still hot if you prefer that over tea. In my experience men often do.”
The butler moved to the sideboard in anticipation, but Kit waved him away with the flick of his hand. “Not today, thank you, and please don’t let me interrupt your breakfast. I only need a moment or two for my enquiries, and then I will be on my way.” Kit drew out a dining chair and sat across the table from her so she might be at ease, noting as he did so that the butler remained, hovering at the door to act as chaperone.
Although he did not care for servants who lingered, it was necessary as Miss Crewe had not married, did not even have suitors as far as he could tell. Still, even though their families were longtime friends, a chaperone was absolutely necessary to preserve her reputation and avoid gossip. He’d have to choose his words with care so the butler had nothing to gossip about.
He met the woman’s frank stare directly. “Did your cousin say where he might be headed so early? White’s, or Tattersall’s for an auction? I had hoped to speak with him this morning. It is an urgent though private matter.”
Miss Crewe fiddled with folding the paper closed, trying to hide the front page from view. The headlines proclaimed Marchioness of Taverham Alive and Returned Triumphant to Society. Kit gritted his teeth. Of course Miranda’s return would be celebrated. Half of society had thought her murdered with her body lying in a shallow grave, either by his hand or on his orders. He’d never raised a hand to any woman, but there just might be reason enough to murder Miranda now for this little stunt.
“Martin tells me so little about what he’s doing these days.” Miss Crewe winced. “He was gone when I woke and his note, slipped under my door during the night, professed to not knowing what time he might return. I was to eat alone this evening again.”
Damn. Kit might never find him as quick as he needed. “Is that usual? Being abandoned so much when he comes up to town?”
“That is mostly the case of late, both here and in the country, so I am growing used to it.” She smiled slightly and shifted in her chair as if made uncomfortable by his question. “Usually I have his company at meals, but he has been so busy this season that seeing him has become an event in itself. My chaperone is quite disapproving of his behavior and wishes he would settle down.”
He glanced at the butler, raising a brow at him. Where was the chaperone and who was she? “Is that so?”
“Oh, yes. Gibbs certainly worries for his master too,” Miss Crewe continued. “We’ve had many discussions on the topic of finding him a wife. Mrs. Higginstonby claims him too wild still to wed. Have you been introduced to her?”
All of Kit’s senses tensed. What a ridiculous name. Surely that could be his Miranda in disguise. He sat forward eagerly. “No. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“It might have a fleeting chance of being pleasurable if the lady could stay awake through the interview. She naps almost all day long. She won’t rise before noon I expect.” Miss Crewe chuckled at that as if she was pleased and glanced at the butler with a blush. “Oh, don’t scold with that look, Gibbs. Lord Taverham would never spread gossip that my chaperone couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to prevent any indiscretion even if she were right there in the very room while it happened.”
Kit ground his teeth. He certainly wouldn’t start gossip of that sort, but Louth should be made to employ a better chaperone for his cousin. Surely he couldn’t know or approve of that sort of behavior. But since Mrs. Higginstonby didn’t sound much like she shared his wife’s former demeanor, he concluded they would not be one and the same. “Perhaps another time.”
“If you are extremely unfortunate, then yes.” Her gaze narrowed slightly. “I must confess when Gibbs announced you I had wondered if you might have brought your wife with you.”
Anticipation rose again. Miss Crewe had not been a guest at his wedding and to his knowledge had no connection to Miranda. “Do you know my wife well?”
Her lips turned down. “I have not had the pleasure of an introduction, which is why I was so very keen to meet her today. The papers say such conflicting things, and it is not every day that I have a chance to meet a runaway bride.”
Disappointment slammed into him. Coming here was another dead end. “No, it isn’t.”
Her mouth opened slightly. “Forgive me. Martin is always suggesting I curb my interest of the macabre and unusual goings on in society, but it is all so fascinating to me. No doubt that is why his estate has so few visitors. I tend to startle acquaintances with my blunt and often poorly timed questions. It has been an age since Martin has even hosted a house party, so perhaps that is for the best. One less opportunity to embarrass him.”
Although astonished by her candor, her response did answer several questions at once. Miranda had not been living at Martin’s country estate these past years. Miss Crewe had been in residence there for at least five years since her parent’s deaths and claimed not to know her. “I wasn’t offended, but I will admit to you that my wife’s behavior perplexes me. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Miss Crewe nibbled her lower lip and then regarded him, her head tilted slightly to the side. “In my experience, that is the retort of every guilty man. But that matters not to me. I’d rather like to know how you will attempt to convince her to stay this time round. Do you need any help winning her over? I am sure that if you lost that put-upon expression, had your valet run a razor over your jaw, and smiled a great deal more, she would melt in a puddle at your feet. You have a nice smile. A lady would be hard-pressed not to grow to like your company.”
Gibbs cleared his throat quite a few times.
As Kit realized he’d been flirted with, he began to see why Miss Crewe did not move in society. If she talked so forwardly with all Lord Louth’s friends, he’d surely find himself with none at all or an utter scandal on his hands. Such bluntly worded praise would make a man feel they were being led into a willing seduction. But Kit felt uncomfortable in the extreme. He wasn’t one to lead a lady on. He was married. “I’m sure we
will come to a mutual understanding in due time.”
“Of course.” She smiled widely, then laughed. “Just be yourself and do not worry. A woman would have to be mad to turn aside from such a handsome husband.”
Was Miranda mad? She’d certainly turned away from their marriage for long enough. He stood quickly and nodded to Miss Crewe. “Thank you for your time, Miss Crewe. I appreciate your honesty and your candor.”
“Liar. I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I can see now your heart is in the right place.” She smiled at the butler. “Do show Lord Taverham out, but please be quiet when you close the front door behind him. Remember, we don’t want Mrs. Higginstonby woken early. You know how difficult she can be if she doesn’t get at least ten hours’ rest.”
Kit followed Gibbs out. He glanced back over his shoulder as he heard soft humming start up behind him. “Is she normally like that? So outspoken and flirtatious?”
Gibbs smiled awkwardly. “I’m afraid so. She claims she can read a man’s mind better when he’s caught off guard and makes use of direct speech whenever possible to determine a man’s true intentions. She wasn’t truly encouraging you, and you’re not the only one she has startled by her act. She teased Lord Ettington once the same way, shortly after his marriage.”
Ettington wasn’t one to suffer fools and Kit shuddered. “How did he take the impertinence?”
The butler stared at him. “He laughed and laughed, so hard he was near to tears for some minutes after. He then invited her to meet his uncle, insisting that Miss Crewe needed a worthy target.”
Kit smiled tightly. Ettington’s uncle had turned his back on women entirely a long time ago, entrusting his lands and fortune to Lord Ettington, his twin sister’s son, on his eventual demise. “Having met the duke once or twice myself, I’m not sure I’d put my money on Miss Crewe to win in that confrontation. He is rather clever himself and just might turn the tables on her.”