Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Sir Julian was in his study when he saw Miranda riding up his front drive looking jaunty and beautiful in her blue riding habit.
His heart, which had been residing in his boots after his encounter with her and Sir Henry in the meadow, rose in excitement.
She was here. The woman he longed for was here.
The woman who would make his life complete.
That she no longer brought Windrush Hall with her didn’t matter.
All he could think of was that at last she had come to him, willingly, and she would be his. Right now.
There being no mirror in his study he hastened to the parlor where one hung on the wall opposite the window, the idea of its situation being to increase the size of the room by optical illusion.
Yes, he looked most presentable. She would find him pleasing to her eye.
With his fingers he gave his fading ginger hair a quick fluff up, both in order to give the impression of added height and also to disguise the fact it was thinning.
His heart was beating a rapid rhythm and his breathing came fast. The moment he’d been waiting for since before his own wife died had finally arrived.
She’d cast aside that upstart who’d stolen her home from her and tried to mendaciously claim her as his bride, and realized that only he, her long admirer, represented what she truly needed.
Puffing out his chest, he sat down on one of the richly upholstered pink settees and waited for his butler to bring her to him.
It didn’t take long. Morton, the butler, opened the parlor door. “Lady Madeley to see you, Sir Julian.” And she came in.
He rose to his feet, one hand on his heart.
Never had he seen her lovelier. From her daintily booted feet up through her elegant riding habit to her perfectly formed face, cornflower blue eyes and abundant blonde hair.
He could not drink in enough of her. Perhaps the showdown with that upstart had served to multiply his feelings, perhaps it was the thought of losing her that had done so, but, whatever it was, his heart felt as though it were brimming over with desire.
She hesitated on the threshold, her eyes suddenly wary.
Let her not be. Let her show him how much she loved him. He was more than willing to declare his love for her. Long years of admiring her from afar had taken their toll on him.
He smiled what he fondly imagined was his most welcoming and loving smile and executed a deep bow. “Lady Madeley. Miranda. How glad I am to see you here.”
She came further in and, at a nod from his master, Morton retreated and closed the parlor door. With that gentle smile on her face, the one he thought was meant only for him, she made a polite curtsy.
“Please,” he said, indicating the settee he’d just risen from, “be seated. I am more than gratified to be able to welcome you into my home.”
She sat, but not beside him. Instead she chose a single, upright chair and folded her small hands in her lap. “Thank you.”
He tried hard not to lick his lips in anticipation.
He must not look too eager. In his experience ladies could be quite put off if one was too forward.
Although what he really wanted to do was go down on one knee before her and assure her that his previous offer still stood and he would marry her immediately, or, failing that, at any date she chose.
But preferably sooner rather than later.
She regarded him out of wide, solemn eyes for a long moment before taking a deep breath.
His heart gave a little leap. Here it came. Her declaration that it was him she wanted, not that vile upstart. He could still feel the bruise on his knuckles from having knocked the blackguard down.
“I’ve come to ask you to withdraw your challenge to my cousin.”
What? He stared at her in horror, unable, for a moment, to control his reaction.
She nodded as if to emphasize her request. “It would please me greatly if you were to do so as I care most deeply for my cousin and would not like to see harm come to him.”
She was looking at him as though she expected a reply, so he made a harumphing sound.
She must have taken that as some sort of answer, because she went on.
“When you so abruptly came upon Harry and me, on his land, I might add, you quite misunderstood the situation. Harry is not someone who was forcing himself upon me. I was not resisting his advances. So the whole premise of your challenge to him was wrong.” She cleared her throat.
“I am sure I can persuade him to overlook your striking him, as he will understand your misapprehension. He is not a violent man despite having been an army officer. I will make sure he knows you made an easy mistake. I will tell him that you were only following the instructions of my late husband in watching out for me so very kindly. But you were wrong, and the challenge to the duel should not stand.”
She finished, those gorgeous blue eyes still fixed on him.
His heart descended back to his boots. She had not come for the reason he’d thought.
She’d come to rub his nose in the fact that another man had won her, and to beg for him to withdraw his challenge.
He’d been thinking it a little foolish himself until she’d spoken, but now, having heard her terrible words, he knew he could never withdraw.
Henry Madeley—he refused to call him “sir”—should not be allowed to have her.
He would aim for the upstart’s heart, not the shoulder he’d been planning on.
She entwined her fingers in a nervous fashion. Could she be lying? Had the coward sent her to beg for his life? She looked up at him beseechingly. “As it is a matter of my own happiness at stake here, I was hoping that you would have some fellow feeling for me.”
“Miranda,” he said, fully convinced in a matter of seconds that the upstart was wanting to renege on his agreement to the duel and had sent her because he was too cowardly to come himself.
“Miranda, you must understand that this is a matter of honor between two…” He’d been about to say gentlemen but stopped, because that upstart was nothing of the sort.
“Honor might be better served by both of you making apologies,” she said.
“To me, in fact, for I am most unhappy that you seem to think to honor me by making me the subject of your duel. I am more than shocked that either of you consider this acceptable in this day and age. Perhaps you will recall that duelling is illegal, and you are a magistrate.”
Sir Julian narrowed his eyes, the possibility that here lay a way to win her to his side arising in his somewhat twisted heart. “If I were to agree to your suggestion, then might you be more agreeable to view me in a favorable light and consider my suit?”
Her eyes widened. She swallowed and sat up a little straighter.
“I’m sorry. Have I not been clear enough in my explanation?
I am here to ask this of you because you mistook what you saw.
I am in love with Sir Henry, and have accepted his offer of marriage.
I could not possibly consider an offer from any other man.
It would be cruel of me to encourage you falsely.
And it is because you were wrong that I ask you to withdraw the challenge.
I have no wish at all to see two gentlemen fighting over me in a completely illegal way. ”
Pretty color tinted her cheeks.
Sir Julian’s brow furrowed. He knew what was wrong here.
The woman was deluded. The upstart had worked his slippery charms on her and convinced her to extricate him from perceived danger.
The realization that only he knew what was best for her washed over him.
He had to keep her here, and then she would come to understand that he had only her best interests at heart.
“Can you do this?” she asked, oh so prettily. “As a friend of many years. To please me?”
He got to his feet, sweat standing out on his forehead and his clasped hands damp.
“My dear Miranda, I’m afraid to have to inform you that you have been entirely taken in by a fraudster.
Why, I doubt very much he is even who he says he is.
A man of unscrupulous intentions who not only has decided to steal Windrush from you and your daughters, but also to take you from me, the only man who loves you as you deserve to be loved. ”
She was staring up at him out of wary eyes.
“In fact, you need to understand that I have only your best interests at heart when I inform you that I cannot allow you to go back to Windrush where that upstart can exert his influence over you further. You must remain here with me until our common licence arrives, which I have already sent for, and then, when we are married—to one another—you will at last be safe.”
She rather sprang to her feet. They were very close.
Those blue eyes flashed in an anger he’d never seen before.
Oh, how attractive it made her. “Sir Julian, have you taken leave of your senses? I cannot possibly stay here and you have everything wrong. Upside down. Muddled in your head. I must return immediately to my family or they will be worrying about where I am.”
He resisted the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her.
Small steps. He retained enough of his sanity for that to be paramount.
Once they were married, she would come round to loving him properly.
And once they were married he could chastise her if she did not.
The idea of doing so had a hot flush stealing up his body and more sweat prickled out.
“My dear Miranda,” he said, fighting to control the urges washing through him. “You will remain here whether you like it or not. I shall send a message to your daughters that you are indisposed and have taken to your bed.”
“I will not stay here,” Miranda snapped and made to turn towards the door.
Prepared for this move, he shot out a hand and grabbed her upper arm, that hot sensation burgeoning.
“You will indeed, even if I have to keep you locked in one of the bedrooms.” All this sensation of power over her was most intoxicating.
And yes he would lock her in. Keep her his prisoner and at his mercy.
She’d soon realize her true feelings for him if he did that.
“Unhand me right now,” she snapped, giving a convulsive wriggle that got her nowhere. He had too tight a hold on her to let her go.
For a brief moment, excited as he was by her easy capture, he wondered if he needed to wait until they were married to consummate their love?
Common sense straightaway told him it might be wise to.
She didn’t have the look of someone who would acquiesce to his advances without extreme resistance.
Not until she had a ring on her finger, at least. And waiting would only increase his anticipation and make the final triumph all the better.
“You know it’s what you truly want,” he said, meeting her angry gaze and savoring it.
She set her jaw. “I do not. Let me go now, and this will not go beyond the walls of this room.”
He shook his head. “I’m very much afraid I cannot do that.” How delicious her anger was. Of course, she had to make a show of resistance. He liked a woman with spirit.
Her glare, on the other hand, could have withered a lesser man.
Without relinquishing his hold on her, he rang the bell for Morton, who arrived so quickly he must have been lurking outside the door. “Please fetch Baxter to me and then both of you are to escort Lady Madeley upstairs to the pink bedroom and lock her in.”
“No,” Miranda said, a hint of panic in her voice. “I need to go home now, Morton. Right now.” She twisted in his grip but he had her firm.
Morton’s eyes widened in shock. But he was well trained and would do as he was told no matter what his master asked of him. The man’s eyes were darting between her ladyship and his master as though he couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening.
Perhaps he ought to qualify this order. “Lady Madeley is…er…feeling a little unwell.” Inspired.
“Inform Baxter he is to keep guard outside her door as it’s imperative she mustn’t be disturbed.
” Yes, Baxter the enormous gardener would do very well.
Firstly, he didn’t know Miranda at all, and secondly, being a little slow on the uptake, he could be relied upon to do exactly as he was told.
“No,” Miranda almost cried. “I’m quite well enough to return home, Morton. Don’t let him do this to me. Send someone to fetch Sir Henry Madeley. Please!”
But Morton, who must be well aware who paid his wages, had scuttled away.
Sir Julian slid his hand down to a better grip on her wrist as Miranda shot him a furious glare, but that was all. And he was certain she didn’t mean it. How could she? He was her savior, wasn’t he?