My Lord Hercules (5 page)

Miranda pulled the reins slightly to
the right and grinned when the phaeton made a smooth turn onto Park
Lane. “I did it!”

“
I never had any doubts,” he
drawled. “Now slow down just a bit so we can get across the
street.” He gestured to the park entrance up ahead on the left. “Go
right through there.”

Miranda followed his instructions,
pulling back slightly on the reins until it was safe for them to
make the turn into the park. What a heady feeling to be in control
of the phaeton. She’d never even contemplated driving before. What
other excitements was she missing out on?

“
You aren’t like any other
girl I’ve ever met.”

His statement jerked Miranda back to
the present, and she turned her head to look at his lordship. The
intensity of his gaze stole her breath, and she simply gaped at
him.

“
Do watch where we’re going,
Miranda.”

“
Oh!” She turned her
attention once more to the path in front of them. That was the
hardest part of driving, the looking ahead part.

Lord Harrison leaned back on the bench
and draped his arm on the back of the seat. Heat seemed to roll off
him in waves, warming her thoroughly. “Quite shy for a chit who
frequents gaming hells.”

Miranda kept her eyes on the path this
time, glad she didn’t have to look at him for fear that he would
see her blush even despite her unfortunate coloring. “I don’t
frequent them.”

“
No?” Humor laced his voice,
blast him.

“
No,” she returned tartly.
“Last night was my first hell.”

“
And what would make you
brave such a place in disguise, all alone?”

Miranda shook her head. “I don’t owe
you an explanation, my lord.”

His arm along the back of the seat
brushed against her shoulders as his hand settled on her arm.
“Whatever excitement you’re searching for, I’m certain I can
provide it for you, whether it’s driving my phaeton or…something
else. There’s no need to put yourself in a dangerous spot
again.”

“
I’m not looking for danger
or excitement, Lord Harrison.” Just answers. Just the truth about
her Tessie. And she would go wherever that mission took her, no
matter how dangerous.

Before he could reply, a pretty blonde
waved her arm in the air. “Good afternoon, Lord
Harrison!”

Harry dragged his eyes from Miranda’s
slender neck to focus on Alice, Countess of Gifford, in a curricle
alongside her husband. He took the reins from Miranda and drew the
phaeton to a stop. “My lady, how nice to see you. It’s been an
age.”

Alice’s gaze swept from Harry to
Miranda and back. “You would see me more regularly if you spent
more of your time in polite society. You’re as bad as Wood these
days.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Alice
never did mince words. It was probably the reason she was his
favorite of all of Pippa’s friends. “Certainly, I’m not all that
bad. I’ll even be at Pippa’s ball tomorrow.”

“
Always the devoted
brother,” Alice returned without heat. In fact, she smiled sadly
and Harry could almost read her thoughts. If only Woodsworth had
been a better brother to his sisters, they wouldn’t have found
themselves in such perilous positions over the years.

Was Marston a devoted brother, or a
neglectful one? Would he care that Miranda had put herself in
danger the night before, or would he wave the thought away as
nonchalantly as Woodsworth would have? For some reason, Harry was
desperate to know the answer, desperate to make sure that Miranda
was well cared for. Simeon Bartlett was known for his bravery, for
his honor. Had he survived the brutal attack from footpads less
than a year ago, Harry had no doubt that Miranda would not be
entering hells on her own. But her oldest brother hadn’t survived,
and that loss was still felt throughout London. It had to be felt
even more so in the Bartlett home. Poor Miranda.

“
Are you going to introduce
us?” Alice asked, her brown eyes wide in question.

Subtlety had never been her strong
suit. Harry grinned at the couple as he squeezed his little minx’s
shoulder. “Miss Miranda, this is the Earl and Countess of Gifford.
Giff, Alice, this is Miss Miranda Bartlett.”

“
A pleasure,” Miranda
murmured so softly, no one would ever believe she was the same
brazen chit who’d dressed like a fop in order to gain entrance into
Gioco’s the previous night.

“
The pleasure is ours, Miss
Miranda.” Gifford then turned his all-knowing gaze to Harry.
“Actually, Woodsworth said he saw you last night,
Casemore.”

Miranda stiffened at Harry’s
side. Was she worried that someone had recognized her at Gioco’s?
Perhaps a healthy dose of fear would keep her from doing something
equally foolish in the future. “He took my seat at a
vingt-et-un
table as I
was on my way out.”

“
That’s not the part he
mentioned,” the earl continued.

No, Wood probably mentioned the
dark-haired girl tossed over Harry’s shoulder, not that Gifford
would ever broach that bit of gossip in front of the ladies. “You
know Woodsworth. Prone to dramatics from time to time.”

Clearly, Gifford didn’t believe him,
but he was gentlemanly enough not to say as much.

Harry tipped his head in farewell to
the Giffords. “Well, until tomorrow night.” Then he urged his bays
forward down the path. Once they were out of earshot, Harry nudged
Miranda with his arm. “Don’t worry, my dear. I won’t ever tell
anyone it was you.”

When she didn’t respond, Harry’s gaze
shifted from the path to his companion. Her pretty olive skin was
almost as white as parchment. Miranda’s hazel eyes, a mix of green
and amber, met his, a haunted expression flashing back at him. “You
know the Marquess of Woodsworth?”

If Miranda had been coshed over the
head, she’d have felt less stunned. Not only did Lord Harrison know
the Marquess of Woodsworth, it appeared he knew the blackguard
rather well. She hadn’t even considered that possibility before
now. Lord Harrison seemed so gregarious, so clever – he’d outwitted
her the previous evening, after all – so perfect in nearly every
way. He didn’t seem at all the sort who would fraternize with the
likes of Lord Woodsworth. Had she misjudged the gentleman
completely? Heavens, she couldn’t even trust her own judgment,
apparently.

“
Of course I know
Woodsworth.” Lord Harrison frowned down at her. “What do you know
of the wastrel?”

Wastrel? Miranda somehow managed not
to scoff. Was it better or worse that Lord Harrison knew his friend
was a cad? And did it matter one way or the other? For all she
knew, Lord Harrison was a cad too. He did spend his time in the
same awful places Lord Woodsworth did, after all, which was more
disconcerting when one thought about it.

Since it might only take one look from
her Herculean suitor to melt her heart, Miranda had to be careful
not to let that happen. She only had to look at what had happened
to Tessie to see the danger in falling for the wrong man. Tessie
had fallen completely in love with Woodsworth and now…now, she was
nowhere to be found.

“
Miranda,” Lord Harrison
interrupted her thoughts. “What do you know of
Woodsworth?”

Whether or not Lord Harrison was a cad
of the same variety as Woodsworth, he might very well be her best
chance at getting close enough to the marquess to demand he answer
for Tessie. “I only know him by name,” she replied. And reputation,
though she thought better of mentioning that bit. “I should like
very much to make his acquaintance, however.”

Lord Harrison looked a bit taken
aback, as though she’d insulted him in some fashion. “I hardly
think that’s a good idea,” he grumbled.

“
Why not?” She touched his
arm and when his green gaze settled on her, Miranda felt it all the
way to her toes. Heavens, it would be only too easy to fall for
him. But that would be such an enormous mistake, one she might not
survive.

“
He’s not fit company most
of the time.”

Miranda didn’t care if the
marquess was fit company
any
of the time, so long as he gave her the answers
she needed. “Will you introduce me to him, Lord
Harrison?”

“
Absolutely not.”

Miranda frowned at his lordship. “I
would be forever in your debt.”

“
You’re already in my debt
for saving your pretty little backside last night.”

Ha! He’d only made her course more
difficult. “It took me quite a bit of planning on my part to breach
the walls of that club last night. You owe me for ruining my plans.
Arrange an introduction for me to Lord Woodsworth, and we’ll call
it even.”

A muscle twitched beside Lord
Harrison’s right eye, and his jaw hardened stubbornly. “Stay away
from Woodsworth.”

He wasn’t her brother. He wasn’t her
father. He couldn’t tell her what to do. Miranda tipped her head up
to better see him. “Or what?”

“
That’s it,” he growled as
he urged the bays from their path toward a copse of trees at a much
faster clip than they’d traveled thus far.

Miranda’s breath caught in her throat.
What in the world was he doing? She gaped at him just as he pulled
back on the reins, drawing his phaeton to a halt. She looked around
wondering why in the world he’d stopped here where no one could see
them. Had he lost his mind?

Lord Harrison hooked the reins in
front of him and then shifted on the bench so she could see more
than just his profile. “You are bound and determined to ruin
yourself, aren’t you?”

Miranda did scoff now, her
bravado finally returning. “You’re the one who drove off the path
as though the devil was chasing us. Half the
ton
must have seen you abscond with
me.”

“
Well, then we should really
give them something to talk about, shouldn’t we?” Lord Harrison
cupped her face with both of his hands and then pressed his firm
lips to hers.

Stunned, Miranda couldn’t move, which
didn’t seem at all to matter to him. His fingers caressed her
cheeks and he groaned slightly against her lips. She placed her
hand on his chest, intending to push him away, but he smelled of
sandalwood and tea as she breathed him in, and she couldn’t keep
her eyes from fluttering shut and her hand from clutching his
jacket.

And then he pulled away from
her.

Miranda opened her eyes to find Lord
Harrison’s heated green gaze settled on her lips once more. “What
are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, wishing she sounded more
together than she felt.

“
Removing thoughts of any
other men,” he said, his gravelly voice rumbling over
her.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her
once again. But this time, his tongue touched Miranda’s lower lip,
and she nearly shot off the bench. Dear heavens! An unfamiliar ache
settled deep in her belly, and shivers raced across her
skin.

“
Open for me,” he whispered
across her lips.

Open? Miranda was about to ask what he
meant by that, but when she did, his tongue swept into her mouth.
The unfamiliar ache only deepened within her, and Miranda couldn’t
think, she could barely breathe. All she seemed able to do was
clutch his jacket in her hands once more and hold on.