Doves Migration (31 page)

Glaring back at her, he chuckled. “Don’t be raising your voice to me
and getting your nose out of joint. All I’m trying to find out is why that
man had to come down here in the middle of the night offering me a
position and proposing . . . Well you heard what he was saying, you
stalking about like some grave digger and all.”
Outraged by his implications, she shouted, “How dare you! I was not
stalking about. Don’t you dare speak to me in that manner Gilbert
O’Flaherty. I won’t stand for it, I tell you. Not now or ever again.”
Clenching her fists at her side, she glared at him. “It just so happens I don’t
know why Alfred came to see you this evening. I was too busy finding out
how Tad had been able to stalk me while I slept.”
Seeing the rage in his eyes at hearing Tad’s name, she knew she had
said too much. In a horse whisper he said, “What did you just say?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Far too
tired to be arguing with you over Tad. So, goodnight.” Turning to leave, he
grasped her arm and looked pleadingly into her eyes.
“Miranda, please. Tell me what you meant by his lordship stalking you
in your sleep.” Every instinct in her told her to run, but she knew if she did,
Gilbert would only badger her later, so she took in a deep breath.
“I’ll tell you everything as long as you promise me not to lose your
temper.”
“Just tell me, Miranda.”
Quivering from the fierceness of his glare as his eyes penetrated her
very being, Miranda felt her cheeks grow red and slowly began to explain
her comment.
“The night you and Tad got into that scuffle, he came home quite late
and had words with his father. After he had gone to his room, I went to
him. Only to tend to his wounds.” Miranda paused. Seeing his jaw pulsate,
she quickly added. “Nothing more. I swear Gilbert.”
“Go on.” His voice was barely audible.
Never had she seen Gilbert react like this. She found herself growing
more anxious, avoiding his green eyes that were boring a hole through to
her soul. “The following morning I found a vase of flowers and a thank
you note on the bed-stand, next to my bed. It struck me as odd, since I was
certain I had locked my door.”
Again, Miranda paused seeing how his eyes reacted to hearing her
words. Nervously she placed the candle she was still carrying on a nearby
table and hastily added. “Until this evening, when Montgomery was
driving me home from the orphanage, did I come to realized that Tad had
probably entered my bedchamber through the tunnel that leads from each
of the rooms on the second floor.”
His icy-cold glare continued, and she looked up at him pleadingly.
“You must believe me Gilbert, I knew nothing of the dumbwaiter, or for
that matter, I had no idea Alfred intended to speak with you this evening let
alone what he was going to propose. I swear.”
Saying not a word, Gilbert turned and sat on the edge of his bed then
bent over and started to remove his boots. Stunned by such a reaction,
Miranda watched in astonishment.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
From her vantage point, she could make out that his jaw was still
clenched as he leaned over to put his boots next to the wooden chair beside
his bed. Standing, he glared at her while unfastening his trouser buttons.
“Unless you fancy stalking me like his lordship, I suggest you leave.
I’m tired and I need my rest if I’m to be fit to travel in a few weeks.”
“Are you serious? Aren’t we going to discuss this further?” she asked,
resenting him for dismissing her like some child.
Shaking his head defiantly as a response, he brazenly continued to
unfasten his trousers.
Shocked, Miranda somehow found her voice. “If you are angry with
me then say so. But don’t you dare try to intimidate me, Gilbert O’Flaherty.
Because it won’t work. Have you forgotten I’ve seen you undressed
already?”
“Ah, have you now? And when would that be, lass? It was
Montgomery who undressed me after my accident. You said so yourself. Or
was that just another lie?”
“Are you accusing me of being a liar, again?” She spat while stomping
her foot and clenching her fists by her side. “As I told you before, I have no
reason to lie to you. What I said, was that Montgomery assisted me, so I
could tend to your wounds. Can I help it you assumed he unclothed and
bathed you too?”
Hearing her words, Miranda saw the anger in his eyes as he glared at
her.
“Aye, now that wouldn’t be trying to twist the truth to suit ya, now
would it lass? Is that what ya learned in all those fancy books that his
lordship reads to ya most every night? How to twist the truth rather than
being earnest and straight forward?” Shaking his head in disgust, he pulled
off his shirt and tossed it across the arm of the chair. “Leave me be,
Miranda. I’ve had a belly full of yer kind.”
Outraged by such a comment, she asked indignantly, “My kind? And
just what is that supposed to mean?”
Glaring at her, he stepped closer. Undaunted by his obvious anger,
Miranda remained planted firmly where she stood and defiantly glared
back at him.
In a coarse whisper, he spat indignantly, “Ya let that sons ‘a bitch read
sweet nothin’s to ya nightly. Ya let him kiss ya occasionally, always
insisting it’s to protect me, and now I learn that he’s seen ya undressed, in
yer nightdress too.” Standing only inches from her, he asked, “Just tell me
Miranda, what will be next? Are ya going to let him bed ya too?”
His words cut through her heart. Never had anyone defiled her with
such hateful words, and she raised her hand to strike him. Before she made
contact, Gilbert grasped it tightly in his own, and she winced, feeling his
strength as he squeezed her hand in his.
Their eyes locked and she gasped seeing such hatred and anger. As if
he had nothing more to say, Gilbert silently released her hand and turned
back to his bed where he sat resting his head in his hands.
Stunned and outraged, she looked at him, bewildered. “What have I
done to deserve such treatment? Except, risk everything to nurse you back
to health so you could insult me and cast me aside, as if I was some cheap
strumpet.”
Hearing no response, it suddenly occurred to Miranda that what
bothered Gilbert the most was that Tad had seen her in her dressing gown
rather than the fact that he had violated her privacy. Outraged that she was
viewed by these two men as nothing more than some prize to be won, she
began to shake uncontrollably.
In that instant, Miranda vowed she would no longer be willing to stand
by meekly while those she loved continued to hurt her--like her mother had
allowed her father to do. In her current state, the voice of her mother
taunted her, recalling how Catherine had repeatedly said to her as a child.
“
Be a good girl, Miranda. Mind your manners, Miranda.”
Defying her
rearing, and as if answering her mother’s commands, she shook her head
defiantly.
Not this time! Not ever again. Being a good girl has only broken
my heart.
Glancing at Gilbert and seeing him still sulking, Miranda somehow
managed to find her voice and calmly said, “You know what Gilbert? I’ve
just figured out this very second why we continue to argue. It’s not really
me you’re angry with, or for that matter, what has happened to you. What
angers you is that Tad has gotten away with it and you can’t do anything
about it. Nothing I say to you or a well-respected man as Alfred Honeycutt
means little to you where Tad is concerned. All that matters is your
wounded pride and competing against a man who you despise.”
Fine Gilbert! It bothers you that Tad has seen more of me than you
have. Well I’ll even the score then.
Bending over, she swiftly untied her
shoes and stepped out of them. Impulsively, she began to unfasten the
buttons to her skirt, and releasing them from their restraints, she let the
skirt fall around her feet. “You’ve been in competition with him from the
day you met and I’ve been foolish enough to think that over time things
would change . . .”
While still speaking angrily at Gilbert, Miranda hastily began
unfastening each button. “Let’s see if I’ve gotten it straight. Tad calls me a
special name, and so you have to come up with one too. Then Tad kissed
me and of course, you had to as well. Now you learn that he violated my
privacy, but rather than be concerned for my welfare, or try to console me
when I needed you, all you could think of was that he has seen me in my
nightgown. How pathetic is that?” she spat indignantly.
Angered more than she had ever been before in her life, she flung her
blouse to the floor, and added. “Since Tad has never seen me in my
pantaloons and corset, will you think you’re ahead in this twisted and
warped game you two insist on playing?” Glancing at him, and seeing no
response, Miranda tugged at the cords of her hooped skirt until it too
become free while she angrily called to him. “What? No clever response or
hateful unjustified accusation?”
Pausing, she glared at him, waiting for him to respond. Hearing none,
she angrily planted her fists squarely on her hips and boldly said, “Answer
me damn-it! I deserve that much.”
Slowly he raised his head, and judging by the shocked look on his face,
Miranda knew he was as surprised to see her partially clothed, as she was,
in herself for disrobing in front of him.
Rather than backing down, Miranda looked him squarely in the eyes
and defiantly asked, “So tell me Gilbert, is the score even? Or are you
ahead since I willingly disrobed for you without having you sneak into my
room in the dead of the night to leer at me? I’m confused, how would you
rate this?”
Taking in a deep breath and shaking his head, an impish grin of
admiration crossed his lips. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You are a
feisty one, I’ll give ya that much. But let me warn ya Mandy, I won’t be
just fiendishly leering over ya while ya sleep, if ya keep standing like that
much longer.”
Hearing him say such a thing, her breathing intensified as her chest
rose up and down in short thrusts. “So now are you suggesting I bed you,
rather than Tad. Yes. I guess that would put you ahead, wouldn’t it
Gilbert?”
Then glaring at him, not waiting for a response, she knelt to retrieve
her blouse. “Well you can go to the devil! Right alongside Tad, because
I’m tired of being your prized token while you break my heart.”
Picking up the garment, she hurriedly pulled the sleeves right side out
so she could put it back on, while she added. “Why come to think on it, Tad
has never seen me dress either. My, but you really are ahead aren’t you?
Pity that only you’ll know how far ahead you were, since Tad will be here
and you will be thousands miles away in San Francisco. How about me
relaying the message for you? Will that help to heal your pride, because
God knows how hard I’ve tried to heal your wounds?” On the verge of
hysteria, Miranda, shaken to her very core started trembling uncontrollably.
Standing up, Gilbert started to step closer to her and instinctively
Miranda grasped her blouse to her exposed chest and neck. Her heart
bounded so hard in her chest, she was certain he could hear it.
“I’m sorry Miranda. I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he whispered, slowly
inching his way closer to her. “It’s just when I think of him touching ya or
looking at ya, I go a little mad.”
Painfully aware of his bare chest and opened trousers, and how
appealing he looked, Miranda began to inch farther from him, while
pleading desperately, “Please Gilbert, don’t come any closer. Turn around
and let me escape from this humiliating and embarrassing moment. I beg of
you. This was a mistake . . . I don’t know what came over me. I just wanted
to prove that I’m not some prize that you two can fight over.”
Coming closer, Gilbert said solemnly, “I am truly sorry Miranda. Will
ya please just answer me one question?”
Shaking her head from side to side, clutching at her blouse she
whispered, “If it’s about Tad, so help me Gilbert . . . I’ll scream.”
“I swear to ya, I’ll never bring up his name again. That is, if ya answer
me this one question.”
Timidly she asked, “What is it?”
“Did Mr. Honeycutt come down here tonight to offer me a job and
suggest I take ya with me because of somethin’ ya said to him?”
Hearing his question, Miranda knew instinctively that if she admitted
to what had actually been said, she stood the chance of angering Gilbert
further, so reluctantly she said, “I swear to you Gilbert, I did not ask him to
do that.”
Inching even closer, Gilbert shook his head and softly said, “That’s not
what I asked ya, Miranda.”
“Please Gilbert, don’t pressure me . . . What I spoke in private with
Alfred was never meant to go any father than between him and me.”
“Do ya trust me Mandy?” he whispered, only inches from her partially
exposed body.
Tenderly, their eyes locked and she nodded her head. “Yes, you know I
do. With my life. But must you humiliate me further?”
Seeing she was on the verge of tears, he tenderly pulled her to him, his
bare arms wrapped around her, and timidly, she released the blouse that she
still clung to and allowed herself to take comfort in his arms. Clutching
him, leaning her head on his shoulder, Miranda could feel his heartbeat
quicken as he grasped her tighter in his arms, his hands tracing the
curvature of her spine.
“Christ ah mighty, ya have no idea what ya doing to me. Yer skin feels
as soft as the mornin’ dew on a rose petal.”
Glancing at him, no longer angry, but relishing in his touch and his
words, their eyes locked and Gilbert tenderly said, “I know I can be
difficult at times, prone to think the worst of people, but ya must never
again think I was interested in ya because his lord . . . er . . . What I mean
to say is, yer was never a prize to win. From the moment I saw ya, I loved
ya, and if the Saints will bless me, you’ll say ya love me too.”
Pulling slightly from him with tears running down her cheeks Miranda
said, “Oh Gilbert, I do love you--with all my heart.”
“Then ya must learn to confide in me, as ya have with Mr. Honeycutt.”
“I can’t. You will be angry with me,” she muttered.
“Don’t ya know that yer just made me the happiest man in the world?
How can I possibly be angry with ya when yer gave me your heart?”