Dangerous Secrets (71 page)

Valentine exploded.
‶
Grimthorpe? I
don′t know how you manage these things, Miranda. To accost the duke was
misguided, but to be caught by Grimthorpe is beyond the pale.″

‶
You sound as if you believe
that was part of my plan. And His Grace is overstating the incident. Grimthorpe
saw naught of me. He simply has my boots.″

Seeing her brother′s stubbornly set face,
Miranda abandoned the attempt to reason with him and turned on the duke.
‶
We
agreed to keep this between ourselves, sir.″

‶
Unfortunately, I could not
persuade Grimthorpe to see it our way. He is set on visiting you and no doubt
is on his way here even as we speak.″

‶
What?″ Valentine and
Miranda spoke together, their voices blending into one.

‶
He cannot know for sure it is
me,″ she said firmly, though she didn′t believe her own words.
Grimthorpe coming here?

Her eyes studied the walls, where rectangular
patched of lighter-colored wallpaper indicated the paintings that had been sold
to cover her father′s debts. The mantel was nearly bare, when it had once
held porcelain boxes and figures, as well as the two sets of candlesticks she
had weighing heavily against her legs.

These were details in which Grimthorpe would
delight. But that was of no importance at the moment. She turned to Valentine.
‶
You
must tell him that I am away visiting a sick relative.″

‶
Miranda ... ″

Knowing she had to take the upper hand unless
she wanted to become a duchess, she interrupted her brother.
‶
Tell
him I′ve been gone for weeks and will not be home again for a month. That
will convince him that he is mistaken in his assumptions. And no one need
know.″

She threw a reproachful glance at Simon.
‶
I
wish that you had come to me first, Your Grace. You have shared our secret with
Valentine, and it will be a hard one for a dutiful brother to accept.″

‶
It will be impossible,″
Valentine sputtered.

‶
There is no need for
upheaval,″ the duke said smoothly.
‶
Your sister and I are now
officially engaged. I sent an announcement to the Times last evening with my
manservant. It should appear tomorrow.″

He had done what? Miranda and Valentine were
both stunned into silence.

After a moment, Miranda demanded,
‶
How
could you have done such a thing?″

Simon addressed Valentine, brushing off
Miranda′s question as if she had not spoken.
‵
′The marriage
will take place in six weeks time, if that is satisfactory.″

His eyes touched on Miranda in a way that made
her heart beat faster.
‶
Since Miss Fenster and I were introduced five years
ago, perhaps we could put it about that we nursed secret longings in our hearts
that came to a quick fruition this past week, during my stay at the
Camberley′s estate.″ His smile had a twist of irony in it.
‶
No
one should find that difficult to believe of her that she wished to live out
one of her own fairytales.″

Valentine bristled.
‶
How could you put
an announcement in the paper without speaking to me first? That is simply not
done, Kerstone.″

Miranda added,
‶
I have no intention of marrying
you.″ Neither man paid her the slightest bit of attention.

The duke focused his attention on Valentine.
‶
You
must see that I had no choice, given the situation.″

‶
I should call you out for
this.″

‶
Valentine.″ Miranda was truly
alarmed now. Shattered as he was at losing Emily, she was afraid that he meant
what he said.
‶
You
may not call out the duke. He was not at fault in any of this.″ The duke
was a crack shot — and to have either man wounded would be unbearable. To have
been the cause of their dispute would be ten times worse.

Valentine brushed off the restraining hand she
laid on his arm.
‶
Keep out of this, Miranda.″

Exasperation made her shout.
‶
How
I wish I had.″ Both men, again, ignored her.

Simon stood straight, looking magnificently
autocratic.
‶
I
should be the one calling you out. You are responsible for her. And she has
made one hell of a mess of my life. I shall be months untangling this
foolishness.″

For one moment Miranda thought her brother
would strike the duke. She again rushed to grasp his arm.
‶
Valentine,
be reasonable. You of all people know how my plans sometimes go awry.″

Her brother looked at her as if she were a
stranger.

Miranda continued, her heart squeezed with
pain.
‶
I
simply wanted to help you and Emily be together.″

He stared blankly at her, and she continued,
not looking at the duke.
‶
His Grace has been very understanding, except for
this nonsense about marriage. Can′t you find it within yourself to be the
same?″

The old Valentine suddenly returned as his blue
eyes gazed at her. There was warmth and amusement and affection radiating from
him as he said,
‶
You
are right, Kerstone, she is my responsibility. Until you are wed. And then
I′ll leave her to you.″

‶
Valentine! You cannot agree to
this preposterous farce!″ Her brother merely laughed and moved to embrace
her.

Aware of her bulky disguise — and somewhat
miffed Miranda stepped away.
‶
Would you sell me to the duke, then?″

‶
Mother always told you to think
of the consequences before you acted, not after.″ He reached for the
brandy — the last of their father′s stock, Miranda knew — and poured two
liberal drafts.

‶
As I am. Should this marriage
take place, the consequences are too horrible to detail.″ When Valentine
did not respond, Miranda continued.
‶
You promised me that I would
not need to marry if I could not find a man content to let me run my
life.″

Still he said nothing.
‶
Valentine, this man
kissed me and unfastened my dress simply to teach me a lesson!″ Miranda
blushed, realizing that she had gone too far in her desperation.

As if he had not heard her, Valentine handed
Simon a glass.
‶
She
is a fine woman. You will not be sorry to have her to wife. Certainly,
Kerstone, you are the one man who just might manage to slip the bit in her
mouth and charm her into liking it.″

Simon spared her one grim glance before he
swallowed down his brandy.
‶
I will consider it my very first duty as her
husband.″

Miranda watched the two men talking each other
around to the reality of the marriage with growing frustration. They treated
her statements as if they were less than the flap of gnat′s wings.

Worse, she realized, she had no time for this
nonsense if she were to catch to coach to London.
‶
I′ve no
intention of marrying you, Your Grace. Grimthorpe knows nothing for a certainty.″

She faced her brother.
‶
Valentine, you must
tell Grimthorpe that I am away, and have been for the last two weeks. I am
certain he will lose interest in this matter in less than a week′s
time.″

With that directive, she spun around and left
the room to the two men. Perhaps their drink would bring them back to their
senses.

If not for the imminent arrival of Grimthorpe,
Miranda would have exited from the front entrance to save precious time. The
past few days had taught her to opt for discretion, though. She turned toward
the back hallway and found two stunned men standing at the library door, their
eyes trained on her.

She realized that she had forgotten to give her
brother an excuse for her upcoming absence. Just what she needed, Valentine
trailing her to London now.
‵
′I′m sorry I can′t stay to discuss
this further with you, Valentine, but I am late already. I have promised to
help an invalid.″

She pulled her cloak tight around her, hoping
that he wouldn′t notice that she wasn′t yet wearing a bonnet.
‶
She′s
seriously ill, so I don′t know when I′ll be back.″

The silver thudded against her legs as she said
encouragingly to her brother′s blank face,
‶
Perhaps you might tell
Grimthorpe that I won′t return for an entire month. I′m sure that
will put him off the scent.″

Simon stared in bemusement down the hallway
after Miranda. It took several moments before he realized that she had refused
his offer – again. Would he have had this much trouble if he had proposed
marriage five years ago? He spent several more moments battling his
astonishment before he realized that she meant to leave Anderlin as if that
were the end of the matter.

Chapter 6

His surprise was quickly overtaken by a
trifling sense of something out of place, not quite right about Miranda′s
hasty departure. He carefully reviewed the previous conversation.

She had been nervous, but that was to be
expected. She had thought to escape unscathed from her escapade.

He frowned. She had even dared chide him,
reminding him of the leather pouch of papers she seemed so damnably curious
about.

Still, he held an unshakeable conviction that
something was off. A small yet significant inconsistency came to his attention.
Miranda had not been wearing a bonnet when she left.

To his knowledge, young ladies, even unconventional
young ladies like Miranda Fenster, did not go visiting engulfed in shabby,
oversize cloaks and forget their bonnets.

Sprung into action by that small inconsistency,
Simon clapped Valentine on the shoulder.
‶
Don′t look so glum.
I′ll have her smiling at me by the time we take our vows.″

Valentine looked at him dubiously. A smile
crept to his lips, chasing away the shadows in his gaze for a moment.
‶
You
will, if anyone will. Good luck, Your Grace.″

Even though the smile faded quickly, the deep
weariness that had etched his face when Simon found him foxed and distraught in
his study was somewhat faded. There was a spark of life in the blue eyes that
had not been there at the first.

With a confidence he had not felt but a moment
ago, Simon held out his hand to Valentine.
‶
As we are to be brothers,
please call me Simon. I′ll leave you to handle Grimthorpe alone. Perhaps
it will be wise to imply the engagement is of long standing.″

Valentine shook his hand heartily.
‶
Certainly.
Anything but Miranda′s tale – can′t count how many people have seen
her about, even these last few days. She′s always been one to fly off to
someone else′s aid.

Simon wasted no time getting to the stables.
There was no sign of Miranda. Both of her horses were unsaddled. Where the devil
was she? Before he could leave the stable, he heard voices.

Quietly, so neither of the speakers would make
note of his presence, he slipped to the door. His view of the yard was good,
but he was disappointed to see that it was not Miranda that Grimthorpe had
accosted, as he had first thought, but a heavyset older woman, obviously a
servant, dressed all in gray with a yellowed linen cap covering her head,
obscuring her face.

‶
Where is your mistress?″
Grimthorpe demanded for the third time. He was no more patient this morning
than he had been in the hunter′s cottage with Betsy′s mother.

The servant, her head bowed low, spoke in a
thick German accent.
‶
Vich mistress do you mean? His Lordship is not
married and he hast six sisters.″

‶
Do you expect me to be
interested in any schoolroom misses? It should be obvious that I mean his
eldest sister, Miss Miranda Fenster.″

‶
Oh. Dat one.″ The servant
scoffed.
‶
She
hast been gone two veeks, a mont′.″

‶
Gone? Gone where?″ The
doubt in Grimthorpe′s question echoed Simon′s own. When had she had
time to coach her servant about her story?

‶
Avay. Far avay. She′ll
not be home for veeks.″

‶
Nonsense. I′m certain I
saw her but a day ago.″

‶
Be off vith you, foolish
boy.″ The servant shook her head and began to sweep the courtyard
vigorously, raising a choking cloud of dust.

Grimthorpe raised his handkerchief to his nose
and changed his approach. Smiling, despite the dust which had settled on the
shoulders of his coat, he said silkily.
‶
I stumbled upon a pair of her
boots and I wish to return them. Surely your mistress would be pleased to have
her boots returned?″

With a sweep of her broom, the servant aimed a
large cloud of dust at Grimthorpe′s insolent form.
‶
I
told you, Miss Fenster is avay. Her boots vith her. Go and ask his lordship if
you cannot believe the likes of me. I have no more time for you. I haf vork to
do.″

Grimthorpe′s smile dropped into a sneer.
With an oath that made the servant′s jaw drop, he shouldered his way past
the woman into Anderlin′s kitchen entrance.

Wishing Valentine well, Simon prepared to step
out and question the serving woman himself. Before he could move, however, she
dropped her broom in the dust and took up the dark cloak that had been slung
over a nearby bush. She started down the garden path, moving with a speed and
grace that greatly belied her age and bulk.

As she passed by the stable doors, she uttered
an oath. He recognized Miranda′s voice at once. The little minx had
thoroughly fooled Grimthorpe and nearly outwitted Simon himself. What the devil
was she up to? He doubted that she meant to care for an invalid, as she had
told her brother.

He watched as she took the path that led to the
village. He′d have to follow her. And he′d have to be very careful
to ensure she did not catch him trailing her. There was no telling what she
would do if she discovered he′d penetrated her disguise.

Shortly thereafter, Simon had his answer. He
waited in an inconspicuous seat at the side of the livery barn, hidden by a
team of horses freshly unhitched from the coach from London. He had tethered
his own horse out of sight. He did not know if Miranda would recognize his
stallion on sight or not. Still, knowing Miranda as he was rapidly coming to
know her, it was best not to risk the chance.

Calmly, he waited, hoping she had not switched
costumes before emerging into the village, or he would have no hope of spying
her. Fortune was with him. Shortly afterward he caught sight of her gray
matronly figure, dingy yellowed cap hiding the lustrous curls. She crossed the
road and shouldered her way onto the top of the coach to London just as the new
team was harnessed.

Simon resisted the urge to mount his stallion
and head to London. He remained where he was, ever conscious of Miranda′s
impulsive nature, until the coach lurched off and he could be absolutely
certain she was indeed on her way to London.

When the dust had settled, Simon followed and
soon overtook the coach. With only a moment′s indecision, he passed the
lumbering vehicle in a wide arc that kept him out of sight of the passengers.
He wanted to arrive well before she did. As he rode, he considered how to
organize his campaign to find out what she was about, leaving her home in such
a disguise without her brother′s knowledge or consent.

He urged his mount on. He would need several
hours to gather the things he needed for the plan he had in mind ....

Hours later, he watched as Miranda, clad in her
bulky disguise, climbed from the coach. He was relieved to see that she had
actually arrived, and not disembarked at some earlier stop. It was obvious she
knew where she was going. She asked no directions, spoke to no one, and was
careful to avoid the less respectable of those abroad the teeming streets.

He followed her for a short distance, careful
to stay far enough away that she would sense no danger.

Fortunately for his temper, her destination was
not far. He recognized the street they were upon; a block of lesser-known
jewelers he had never frequented himself, but he knew of others who had bought
their mistresses′ trinkets in these streets.

A burst of intuition told him that she was
going to sell some of her few remaining valuables in order to keep her family
in funds. He wondered for a moment at his assurance, and then remembered the
faded patches of wallpaper and nearly bare mantelpiece he had noticed at
Anderlin. There was no reason for the relief that flooded through him at the
realization.

After all, Miranda had turned down marriage
with him under the very mistaken impression that she could take care of
herself. What else might she be capable of?

He had not truly thought that Miranda′s
errand might be a visit to a lover, or something more sinister. Now that he
knew her destination, it was time for him to teach Miranda Fenster a lesson of
which she was sorely in need. When next she met the Duke of Kerstone, she would
fling herself into his arms and beg for marriage.

He adjusted the padding of his own hastily
acquired costume so that his right shoulder seemed to reach to his ear. With a
squint on his mud daubed — and now whiskery, thanks to a theatrical friend —
face, he hunched low to disguise his true height. He enjoyed the irony of
playing the beast to her beauty. He wondered if she would appreciate it once he
was through.

His powerful, fluid gait transformed into a
more awkward, rolling one, as if his legs were of two different lengths. The
distance between them closed rapidly. He was confident that Miranda would not
recognize him when he drew up to her side and bore her into the nearby alleyway
before she had any notion of what was happening to her.

‶
How dare you, sir,″ she
said, struggling against him.
‶
Unhand me.″

There was no immediate sign that she understood
the dangerous situation she was in. He did not find that a surprise.

‶
Where be ye going,
girlie?″ he asked in a harsh rasp as he pinned her up against the rough
brick and deliberately let his breath assault her. It was worth the three
cloves of garlic he had chewed to see the expression on her face.

‶
That is none of your concern,
sir,″ she answered sharply.

But he noticed her lower lip begin to tremble
as she realized the depth of trouble she had gotten herself into. He hoped that
she realized she had been a fool to come unescorted to London.

She drew breath to scream, and he pressed his
hand against her mouth. He did not want his prized pupil rescued before the
lesson had even begun.
‶
Be quiet, girlie. I′ve got a knife. Do you
understand?″

Fighting tears, she nodded.

‶
Where be ye going?″ he
asked again.

‶
I have business in the
street,″ she answered.

Though her voice was shaky, her eyes were
fierce as they trained on him.

He was thankful for the dimness of the
alleyway, not certain his disguise would hold against her inspection if given
the full light of day.
‶
Would your business be with any of the
jewelers?″

‶
No.″ Her eyes narrowed,
betraying the truth even as she denied it.

‶
Ah. Would it be Dofflinger ye
be seeing?″

She shook her head.
‶
I told you
I′m not — ″

‶
Wendell then. Wendell would be
a good man for buying from a pretty piece.″

‶
A pretty piece!″
Miranda′s eyes widened in astonishment.
‶
I′m as large as ...
″ She clapped her jaw shut, cutting off the words. With a lift of her
chin, she started over.
‶
Never mind, that is of no consequence. My business
is my own, sir. I choose not to share it with you.″

‶
I′ve no wish to share yer
business — only yer profits.″

‶
Then you must free my arm so
that I can reach my purse.″

Simon stepped slightly away, but warned by the
light of hope in her eye, he drew his forearm across her throat, keeping her
pinned to the wall.

The reticule she had clutched so carefully to
protect it from the pickpockets was quickly fished from a deep pocket. She held
it out to him.
‶
Here.
This is all that I have.″

Simon accepted the bag with a small bow,
although he kept his forearm tight across her throat. He dared not lower his
guard where Miranda was concerned. She was likely to contrive to bring her
lesson to a premature end by getting rescued by some courageous swain.

He rummaged in the bag, but there was nothing
of value save a few coins, not even a single strand of pearls. He realized she
would expect him to find those few coins interesting, but he knew there had to
be more.
‶
Is
this it, just a few shillings? Is that the best ye can do when ye have business
in this street?″

Miranda shook her head.
‶
I am not a wealthy
woman. I am a simple fishmonger′s wife.″

‶
A fishmonger′s wife,
eh?″ He eyed her speculatively.
‶
I′ve known a fishmonger
or two in my time to make good money. Perhaps you have some silver hidden
away?″

Her face went white, and he knew. He knew. But
where on earth did she have it concealed? She carried no more bags with her.

Unless ... of course, it had to be hidden in
the bulk of her costume. But where?

A memory came to him unbidden, of Miranda with
her gown clinging damply to her. Even in the candle glow of the cottage he had
seen enough of her to know her true shape. Perhaps she had hidden her treasure
in the bosom of her gown — much fuller than the Miranda he remembered. Or under
the bulky skirts?″

He hesitated, reluctant to physically search
her. Such an assault was more than the lesson he intended. But for a reckless
fool like Miranda, the more severe lesson might be sorely needed. She had taken
an awful chance to come to London on her own. He could be a real cutthroat. And
a real cutthroat would have no mercy upon an unprotected woman.

‶
Have ye nothing under your
skirts, girlie? I know some women what hide things under there. Ye′ve
enough room for a set of silver, I′d wager.″

Again, Miranda blanched.
‶
You
are mistaken. Take what I have given you and go. The coins are all I have,
including my fare home. You are stranding me in London. Isn′t that enough
for you?″