She didn’t look up when he entered, but the tightening at the corners of her mouth and the tiny line of annoyance that appeared between her brows told him she’d noted his appearance and was choosing to ignore him.
Miles couldn’t say he was surprised.
Taking a sweeping glance of the library - while he liked to read, it was a room he rarely visited - he noted the subtle changes that had taken place during his absence. Namely, the amount of books had doubled and the shelves that had once been waist high now reached all the way up to the ceiling. Oversized leather chairs surrounded a dormant fireplace and a long table scattered with loose papers and opened books occupied the center. Tall windows covered with heavy curtains ran the length of one wall, diffusing the natural afternoon light and giving the room a somber air.
Miles’ footsteps were muffled by a thick green and gold rug with tasseled edges as he strode purposefully across the library and began to pull back the curtains one at a time, flooding the room with sun and forcing Harper to finally acknowledge his presence.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, closing her book with a hard snap.
Waiting until he’d secured the final curtain to reply, Miles turned to face her and said, “You need light to read, otherwise you’ll go blind.”
Harper’s eyes - the same dark, woodsy green as his own - narrowed to slits. “What do you care if I go blind or not?”
“And have to watch after you for the rest of my life to make sure you don’t go bumping into a table or stepping off the edge of a cliff?” Sinking into a leather chair opposite her own, he crossed his legs at the knee and stretched back. “I think not.”
“Yes,” she said coolly, “heaven forbid you be given another family obligation to meet.”
Miles acknowledged the thinly veiled barb with a nod of his head and a small, humorless smile, knowing it was no less than he deserved.
As a young girl Harper had idolized him. He’d been her hero. Her knight in shining armor. The brother who could do no wrong... until he’d done everything wrong. He knew she blamed him for the death of their father, and for leaving her behind with a mother who cared more for her missing son than she did her only daughter.
Coming home to find portraits of himself hung up in every room and all the windows covered as though the house were in mourning gave Miles a small insight into what Harper had been forced to endure during his absence, although he knew the reality was likely far worse than anything he could imagine. His sister had always been a bright, lively girl with an infectious laugh and a love for the outdoors. Since his return, however, he’d not heard her laugh once… and with the exception of traveling to the village for an afternoon of shopping forced upon her by their mother, Harper had not left the house.
She’d changed in other ways as well. Gone was the chubby cheeked girl he remembered. In her place a young woman of great beauty had blossomed. To Miles’ mind she was a bit thin, but her slender build did nothing to detract from her piercing emerald eyes, delicate features, and raven colored hair. His little sister was going to take the ton by storm, and he intended to be there every step of the way knocking blokes out of her path whether she wanted him to or not.
“I am having dinner at Ashburn tonight,” he said as he absently picked up a book resting on a side table and flipped through the crisp pages. “Would you care to join me?”
“Ashburn?” Harper’s dark brows flew up. “Where that wedding just took place that everyone is talking about between Dianna’s aunt and the duke? Why would you go there?”
“Because I have been invited.” He closed the book and set it aside before meeting his sister’s incredulous gaze. “And I want to.”
“Does she even want to see you?”
Miles did not need Harper to identify who the ‘she’ was. “No,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “But that doesn’t mean I do not want to see her. I know I have treated you and Dianna poorly but I intend to make amends, Harp.” He hoped using his sister’s childhood nickname might trigger some sort of softening towards him, but if it had did it didn’t show in her expression.
Clutching the novel she’d been reading to her chest as though it were a shield, she surged to her feet, the folds of her lavender skirt swishing around her ankles. “It will take more than a dinner to do that.”
“I know, but it’s a start.” He considered telling her about the events that had transpired last night, then thought better of it. Harper was not a gossip, but the less people who knew he’d spent the night with Dianna the better. The last thing he wanted to do was damage her reputation more than he already had. “I would like it very much if you would go with me.”
“Why? You got along without me perfectly fine for four years. Surely one night will not make a difference.” Harper’s fingers tapped against her thigh in a visible display of agitation before she blurted out, “People are not dolls, you know.”
Miles’ brow furrowed. “I know that.”
“You cannot put them down and pick them up at whim,” she continued as though he’d not spoken a word. “People have feelings. Emotions. They can be hurt. You hurt me Miles.”
His throat tightened at the raw emotion he saw on her face. “Harp, I-”
“And you hurt Dianna. She loved you. We both did.”
Loved.
Past tense.
“Now you think you can come back after all that time and pick up where you left off? Well you can’t!” she cried. “So please stop trying. You’re only making a fool of yourself.”
Harper swept out of the library in an angry flutter of purple muslin. Miles let her go. Partly because her vehement statement had robbed him of words, and partly because he knew she was correct. He had no right to ask for her forgiveness after what he’d done. But he was going to ask for it anyways, and keep asking until she finally gave in.
His sister may have given up on him, but he would never give up on her. Family was family, blood was blood, and if he had to spill a bit of his own in order to win back her loyalty and affection then so be it.
A glance at the gold pocket watch he always carried revealed the longest spindle pointing straight at two, giving him just enough time to get in a ride on Vesper before he needed to change for dinner.
Another battle to be fought, Miles thought wearily as he left the library and headed out to the stables. Unfortunately, Vesper was proving to be no less difficult than Harper and Dianna to charm. Perhaps even more so.
Thus far the spirited chestnut mare had countered his training attempts at every turn, seeming to take pleasure with every hard nip she managed to get in. Still he remained determined, and this time when she snaked her head out of her stall with ears pinned and teeth bared he stepped neatly to the side, avoiding her incisors by mere inches.
“Missed me,” he said mildly before slipping Vesper’s leather halter over her head. She eyed him distastefully; a queen staring down at a lowly serf.
A young groom, barely old enough to shave with a tall, lanky body he’d not yet grown into and a face covered in skin eruptions appeared from around the corner, a bucket of feed in one hand and a flake of hay in the other. He started forward, but upon seeing whose stall Miles was in front of stopped short and kept his distance. “Do ye, ah, need help?”
Mindful of Vesper’s muzzle and hooves, Miles tied her in the freshly raked aisle and began to brush her sleek chestnut coat with long, rhythmic strokes. “Carry on with what you’re doing Thomas,” he said, amused - but not surprised - by the groom’s wariness. It seemed Vesper had managed to grow quite the reputation in the past couple of years and no one, with the exception of himself, had any interest in handling her, let alone taking her out for a ride.
“See what you’ve done?” he began conversationally as he went to Vesper’s far side and, setting the dandy brush aside, began working the tangles out of her mane with his fingers. “No one wants anything to do with you, and for good reason. You’re a holy terror.”
She turned her
head and peered back at him, big brown eyes blinking as though she understood every word he said... and couldn’t care less.
“I’m not going to give up on you either,” Miles continued, nonplussed by his mare’s indifference. She was, after all, a woman, and if there was one thing he knew for certain it was that women were fickle creatures. Every last one of them. “You’re acting out because you’re feeling neglected, and I can’t say as I blame you. But you’re too talented and far too pretty to sit in a field all day.”
Vesper snorted.
“At least we agree on something. I am putting your saddle on now,” he warned. “If you try to bite me like you did the last time I’ll bite you right back.”
Fortunately, Vesper seemed to be in slightly better spirits and allowed the saddle to be placed on her back and the girth to be cinched without complaint. Putting the bit between her teeth was more of a struggle, but once the bridle was in place she stood quietly, ears flicking to and fro as Miles continued to talk to her in a low, soothing tone meant to set her at ease.
The moment he mounted, however, she released her pent up energy in the form of an exuberant leap and buck, her agile body soaring through the air as though she had wings beneath her hooves. Jamming his feet down in the stirrups and burrowing his hands into her crest Miles hunched low over her neck, pointed her towards an open field, and let her go.
When all was said and done Miles’ was drenched in sweat and sporting a new hoof shaped bruise on his left hip, but Vesper’s eyes were noticeably softer when he put her away, and as he closed her stall door she nudged his shoulder, the closest to an apology she’d ever come.
Walking away from the stables, whistling a mindless tune under his breath, Miles couldn’t help but feel that somehow, someway, everything would manage to sort itself out.
Chapter Eleven
“You did WHAT?” Dianna’s screech echoed loudly in the confines of her bedchamber, causing Charlotte to flinch and a pair of songbirds nesting outside the window to take flight, their tiny feathered bodies silhouetted against the setting sun as they dove and swooped, chirping their annoyance for all to hear.
“I don’t believe I want to repeat myself,” Charlotte said cautiously. “I don’t want to go deaf in my other ear.”
Gritting her teeth, Dianna planted her hands on her hips and glowered down at her best friend who sat demurely on the edge of her bed, hands folded neatly atop her multilayered plum skirt. At least, she’d thought Charlotte to be her best friend. Now she wasn’t so certain, especially after what she had just learned.
Miles. Invited for dinner. The idea was so preposterous she might have laughed if she didn’t feel so perilously close to tears. Too agitated to stand still she began to pace the length of her bedchamber, bare feet stomping heavily on the thick carpet.
“I cannot believe you would do this to me,” she muttered, glaring at the redhead out of the corner of her eye. “How could you?”
When Charlotte had knocked on her door ten minutes ago dressed in a formal gown with her hair twisted into a demure coiffure and a beautiful diamond necklace sparkling at her throat Dianna naturally assumed she’d come to escort her down to the front drawing room for a glass of wine before dinner. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Charlotte had actually come to tell her she’d invited Miles - Miles! - to dine with them this eve.
“I am not going,” she decided before she flung herself with uncharacteristic dramatic flair into the closest chair and glared out the window. In the distance the sun had nearly disappeared behind a long row of trees and night rapidly approached, trailing shadows in its wake.
“You have to go. The Duke and Duchess will be expecting you.”
“Will they be expecting a surprise guest as well?” Dianna asked darkly.
“No,” Charlotte admitted after a pause, “but that is why I am telling you now. If you approve of Radnor attending tonight they will have no choice but to follow your lead and do the same. Come now,” she said, her tone tinged with exasperation when Dianna remained stubbornly silent, “what do you have to lose?”
Pulling at a loose thread on her chemise - Charlotte had caught her only midway dressed - Dianna bit her lip, mind whirling with thoughts half-finished and questions unanswered.
In the past two days her entire world had come tumbling down around her, like a set of wooden blocks knocked aside by an angry toddler. For four years there’d been neither hide nor hair of Miles, and just when she’d finally begun accepting the fact that there never would be, he had come back and it seemed she couldn’t turn around without coming face to face with him. First at the wedding reception, then in the woods, and now at dinner in the one place she should have felt the safest.
Dianna did not think of herself as a courageous woman, but she knew it would take courage to sit across the table and make polite conversation with the man who had spurned her. Humiliated her. Left her without a word of explanation. Never mind that this morning when she’d woken with his arms wrapped around her she had experienced a moment of contentment so pure it robbed the very breath from her lungs. Never mind that one glance into his piercing green eyes and she was lost. Never mind that his very touch still set her aflame. She didn’t want him anymore. She didn’t desire him. She didn’t want to feel his mouth on hers and his hands skimming down her sides to gently cup her hips as he rocked against-
“No,” she gasped, jumping to her feet.
“What is it?” Charlotte demanded, standing as well. Her heavy skirt spilled out around her, the train dragging across the floor as she went to Dianna and rested her hands on her trembling shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet. “What is wrong?”
“Everything! No, not everything.” Taking a deep breath, she struggled to compose herself. After all, she wasn’t the type of woman who dissolved into hysterics at the drop of a hat. At least she hadn’t been two days ago. “I do not know what I am supposed to do, or what I am supposed to feel. I don’t want to think about Miles, but I do. And I don’t want to want him, but…”
“You do,” Charlotte finished when Dianna trailed off. “Which is precisely why I invited him tonight. All the feelings you have now could very well be remnants of what you felt before. You owe it to yourself to find out, and the only way you are going to do that is if you spend time with him.”
“At a private dinner with my closest friends and relatives, all of whom hold him in very low regard?” Dianna said incredulously.
The corners of Charlotte’s mouth twitched, hinting at a mischievous smile. “Is it so wrong of me to want to see him squirm a little bit?”
When Charlotte put it that way… “I suppose not. But,” she said with a stern glance, “this does not mean I forgive you for inviting him without asking my permission first.”
“You would have said no, which is precisely why I did not ask you.” Sauntering across the room, Charlotte flung open the closet and began sorting through the dozen or so dresses Dianna had brought with her from London. “You should wear something that brings out your eyes. Is this the only blue you have?” she asked, pulling out a silk evening dress with an empire waist and sheer detachable sleeves.
“Well yes, but-”
“Perfect. We will pair this with one of your hair ribbons and I have the most beautiful set sapphire earrings to pull it all together. You’ll be a vision.”
Puffing air into her cheeks, Dianna sat on the bed and hugged a pillow against her chest. “But I don’t want to be a vision,” she protested. “I want to be… well, I want to be like I normally am,” she said, addressing her body with a vague wave of her hand.
“Unfortunately, how you normally are is quite boring. Here, hold this. I shall be right back.” Thrusting the dress at Dianna, Charlotte scurried out, presumably to fetch the sapphire earrings from her room down the hall. Left to her own devices Dianna carefully spread the dress out on top of the mattress so as not to wrinkle the delicate silk and stood up, her stomach too filled with butterflies to remain sittin
g.
How could she possibly be expected to have dinner with the man she had once been betrothed to and pretend as though all were well? What if Miles said something about last night? What if he tried to become too familiar with her? What if she forgot herself and became too familiar with him?
By the time Charlotte returned Dianna was pacing circles around the room, arms crossed and a line of tension creasing her brow. “I cannot do it,” she announced the second Charlotte closed the door. “I cannot see him again. Not in a roomful of people. Not with everyone watching. I cannot. I will not.”
“You can and you will,” Charlotte said in a no nonsense tone. “If worst comes to worst simply smile and nod and pretend you’re listening like you’ve done at every other social function over the past four years. Now put these on” - she held out a pair of glittering sapphire earrings strung together with delicate gold thread - “and get dressed. We are running late.”
Because trying to argue with Charlotte was the equivalent of arguing with a stonewall - impossible - Dianna gritted her teeth and acquiesced.
With the help of two maids she found herself dressed, hair pinned, and jewelry on within a matter of minutes.
“Beautiful.” Charlotte stood over Dianna’s right shoulder as they collectively studied her appearance in an ornate silver mirror hanging down beside the closet door. “Stunning, even. Radnor will not be able to take his eyes off you.”
Dianna tilted her head to the side. The woman in the mirror did the same. She blinked. Her reflection blinked back, blue eyes wide and lips, dashed with a touch of rose lip salve, slightly parted. She did looking rather stunning. And terrified. “What if I don’t want him to look at me?”
“Not look at you? Now you are being simply ridiculous. Come along. We are already late enough as it is.” Taking Dianna’s hand as though she were a child, Charlotte dragged her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
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