Chapter Four #3
“Why, you insolent brat!” Brianna grabbed Gwenys’s cup and was about to toss it at Gwenys—what was it about women and tossing objects?—but Bram grabbed it in time.
Blessed saints. Could this get any worse?
Well, it did.
Miranda walked in just then, her eyes rounding as she noticed what was going on.
Bram, distracted while staring at Miranda, received the contents of the teapot thrown in his face. Fortunately, the tea had cooled by now, so it did not burn him as it dripped down his cheeks and spilled onto the front of his shirt and jacket, soaking both garments.
Bollocks.
Double bollocks.
Brianna stormed off, knocking into Miranda on her way out. The few other occupants in the room were staring at him.
Gad, would this get printed in the gossip rags?
Bram’s only concern was for Miranda, not only for the anguish it might cause her, but also for the physical pain of her broken rib that Brianna had just elbowed.
He marched over to Miranda. “Are ye hurt?”
He expected her to be frowning at him and disgusted, but she burst into soft laughter instead. “Solway, you really are incompetent with women, aren’t you?”
He cast her a wry smile. “Aye. Did I no’ tell ye so? Do ye believe me now?”
Gwenys also hurried to her aunt’s side. “It was all my fault, Aunt Miranda. I instigated the entire scene. It was wrong of me, truly. But it felt so good to put that horrible woman in her place. She was so crude and boorish. His Grace was merely defending my honor and wound up soaked in tea.”
The innkeeper bustled over, his expression one of horror and dismay.
“Your Grace! My profound apologies. I… Well, I dinna know what to say. Of course, I must take full responsibility for the affront to ye. Please, the afternoon tea for ye and the ladies shall be compliments of the inn. It is the least I can do.”
Bram grabbed a table linen and wiped the tea off his face. “No, I’ll take full responsibility. Ye needn’t concern yerself. But ye can do me the favor of putting the room charges for Lady Miranda and her niece, and any meals they’ve had here, on my account. It is the least I can do for them.”
He turned to Miranda, whose lips were still twitching, as she found this situation amusing. “Dinna fight me on this. Ye both are under my care now, and I canno’ apologize enough for what ye have just witnessed.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It seems you are the one in need of care, Solway. You are a mess.”
He sighed. “Och, I know.”
The innkeeper shuffled off in relief after Bram dismissed him with more assurances that this was not his fault.
Bram noticed that both Gwenys and Miranda were smiling at him. He understood that Gwenys had thought the scene great fun, but why were Miranda’s lovely eyes shimmering with mirth?
“Ye do no’ seem angry with me, Miranda. Why the gentle smile?”
“Is it not obvious?” she replied. “A true rake would have handled Lady Wharton with finesse. You could have assuaged her by agreeing to see her later.”
“But I have no wish to see her, or ever have anything to do with her again.”
“Is your reluctance to see her again merely because her bedchamber is next door to ours?” Miranda asked.
“I would no’ wish to see her no matter where in Edinburgh she was staying. Do ye think this incident was in any way enjoyable for me?”
“No, I don’t suppose it was,” Miranda said, taking the table linen from his hand and dabbing his chin with it.
“I am through teasing you. I’m so sorry you suffered this indignity.
Truly, I know how it feels to be treated this way.
Here, you’ve missed a couple of droplets. Let me dry them off for you.”
“Thank ye.” She had a light touch and he did not mind her fussing over him. “That is very kind of ye.”
“But you do realize you have made an utter cake of yourself.”
He chuckled. “I thought ye were through teasing me.”
She winced. “Sorry.”
“Nay, lass. My hide is tough. I dinna really mind. But it is frustrating to know I’ve shown ye the worst of myself at every turn.”
“Why does it matter what I think of you?” She patted down his shirtfront, which was soaked with tea.
“Because I like ye, Miranda. I’ve been wanting to impress ye. Seems I have, but no’ in the way I wished. I feel like quite the fool.”
“No, I know you are not a fool. The lady was obviously angry that you wanted nothing more to do with her and did not take the rejection well. She meant to do her best to hurt and humiliate you.”
In truth, Miranda’s understanding of the situation felt particularly poignant now that he knew what she had endured when married to her oaf of a husband. Thank goodness she believed Bram had no intention of renewing his affair with Lady Wharton. Her trust mattered most to him.
“Nor are you incompetent,” Miranda said, being soft again. “But clearly you are no experienced rakehell.”
“Och, do ye see now why I am still a bachelor?” He excused himself to run upstairs and change out of his stained clothes.
Douglas returned just as he was about to climb the stairs. “Faith, Bram! What happened to ye?”
He sighed. “Gwenys and Miranda are in the dining room. Ask them. They’ll delight in telling ye.”
“Och, did ye insult Miranda? Did she get angry and start tossing things at ye again?”
“No, lad. She’s an angel and did nothing of the sort. Leave me in peace and let me change my clothes. I’ll join ye in a few minutes.”
He climbed the stairs and strode into the Royal Suite.
To his surprise, a sense of sadness overcame him.
He genuinely liked Miranda, especially liked how she had tended to him just now. It wasn’t much, merely taking the table linen out of his hands and wiping the tea off his face. But it was natural to her, this need to gently fuss and offer comfort.
He wasn’t certain why his feelings were so strong for her when he had only known her a few days. And in those few days, he had shown the worst of himself and his kinsmen.
Still, she had smiled at him just now, and he thought his heart would burst with joy.
Pathetic. Truly.
He was forty years of age and his hair was graying at the temples. Yet Miranda made him feel like a hopeful boy again.
Could there ever be the chance of love between them?