Suzanna Medeiros (6 page)

While she would love nothing more than to remain in town and see if they could have more together, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe he wanted the same thing. Andrew hadn’t said or done anything in the almost three weeks they’d been together to lead her to believe he would have any difficulty moving on after their affair was over. And she had no doubt there were many other women who would willingly step into her place once she was gone.

She gave her head a small shake, as if doing so could somehow dispel her melancholy thoughts. Nothing would come from delaying the inevitable, so she took a deep breath, collected the cloak of reserve around her that she’d managed to perfect over the years, and made her way to the drawing room.

In the twelve years of her marriage, she had never met her husband’s heir. Taking in his appearance as she entered the room and he rose, she could see immediately why Robert had been so distraught at the knowledge that this man would be the next viscount. The long row of portraits of the numerous viscounts that was prominently displayed at the Hathaway estate depicted men who were similar in appearance to her husband—fair-haired and fine-boned. James Hathaway, however, did not fit into that mold.

What struck her first was his size. The man standing before her now could never be confused with the other men who had held the Hathaway title. He stood well over six feet in height and his build… Andrew was muscular, but this man was even broader. In fact, he had the appearance more of a brawler than a peer of the realm. The slight curve in his nose, indicating it had been broken at least once, underscored that perception. And his hair, slightly longer than was fashionable, was black as night.

Miranda couldn’t miss the wariness in his expression as he rose. Given that he had never been made to feel welcome by his uncle, she could well understand his reticence.

After a rather awkward greeting, she offered to ring for tea, but he refused. She took a seat on the settee and watched while her nephew lowered himself onto the chair opposite her. As they often did when she was in the drawing room, her thoughts went immediately to Andrew and the first kiss they had shared on that very settee, and she had to force herself to concentrate on the present.

“I am so glad you accepted my invitation,” she said, meaning it. She’d always hated the distance that her husband had placed between them and his younger brother’s family.

She could almost see the tension easing from the man’s body when he realized she wouldn’t be treating him with the same disdain her husband has shown him.

“I must admit I was more than a little surprised to receive the letter from your solicitor. After a lifetime of assurances that I would never inherit the title, I find it impossible to believe I am sitting here with you.”

He was referring, of course, to her inability to conceive an heir and the fact she was not carrying a child now.

Hoping to reassure him that she bore him no ill will, she gave a small shrug. “Sometimes these things answer to a higher authority.”

Her reply seemed to surprise him. He leaned back and examined her closely for several moments before saying, “May I be candid with you?”

“By all means,” Miranda said. “Despite what Robert may have chosen to believe, we are family.”

A brief flicker of emotion crossed his face at the mention of his uncle, but when he spoke, Miranda was relieved that he clearly didn’t wish to address the acrimony between the two families.

“You are not at all what I expected.”

She tilted her head to one side, amused at his obvious confusion. “You thought I would be throwing a fit right now? Or that I would be pleading with you for a larger settlement?”

“Frankly, yes. I’ve seen the terms of the will and your marriage contract. My uncle was less than generous in the eventuality that you did not give birth to the next viscount.”

She shrugged. “One cannot predict these things. My parents were very happy with the marriage settlement, and one always assumes that in time children will come.”

He hesitated before saying, “It’s no secret that the Hathaway estate is a very prosperous one. You should know that I intend to increase the amount of your allowance.”

“No!” Guilt had caused her to speak more loudly than she’d intended, and from the expression on James’s face she could see he was taken aback by the vehemence of her response. But she could not entertain the idea of seeking a larger income from the Hathaway estate, not after the way her actions were dishonoring her husband’s memory even now.

“I would argue that after twelve years of marriage, it is no less than your due.”

“Perhaps,” she said, careful to keep further emotion from her voice. “But I am content to live modestly. I have learned over the years that having money does not always mean one will be happy.”

The pity on James Hathaway’s face told her that she had said too much, and another wave of guilt at tarnishing Robert’s memory swept through her. She knew better than to argue that her marriage had not been as bad as he might be thinking. There was no love lost between James and his uncle and he was unlikely to want to hear her defense of him.

“So it is all settled,” she continued. “I only ask that you grant me a few days to make preparations to retire to the country.”

She knew he would assume that she would move to the dowager house on the Hathaway estate, but chose not to correct that assumption since it served her own plans.

“I want you to know it is not my intention to force you from town. I realize that you cannot socialize until you are out of mourning, but you are welcome to remain here. Or if you’d like, I can help you find a new house.”

Miranda realized she liked James Hathaway and was glad she had finally gotten a chance to meet him, but there was no way she could remain in London after her affair with Andrew ended.

She stood and he rose to his feet as well.

“I thank you for your generosity, but I would prefer the quiet of the countryside right now. I am not removing from town because of you.”

He gave her a small nod of acknowledgment. “Very well. I will leave my address with your butler. And if there is anything you need, please know I am at your service.”

She remained standing as he left, but her legs gave out as soon as she heard the front door close. Pain lanced through her as she realized it was almost over. Within days she would leave the Hathaway town house and London, and she would never see Andrew again.

Chapter Six

He was late, caught up in a particularly heated debate in the House of Lords. As the hours ticked by into the evening, he grew increasingly more bad-tempered. At several points it occurred to him that he should arrange to have his driver deliver a note to Miranda before she left for the house he’d rented, but he couldn’t bring himself to cancel the evening. Not while there remained a glimmer of a chance one side might cool down enough for the matter to be resolved.

When it became clear that wouldn’t happen, he could have arranged to have a note delivered to her at the house, but still he held off and that annoyed him more than anything else. He needed to see Miranda. Craved her with a desperation that alarmed him, and with that realization his mood darkened even further.

As the hours passed, curious glances were cast his way as those around him began to sense his dangerous mood. No one approached him until Viscount Morrison was foolish enough to intercept him when the session had finally ended for the night.

“I don’t suppose we’ll see you at Brooks tonight,” the man said with a knowing smirk.

Andrew barely resisted the urge to wipe the smile from the man’s face and started to turn away, but Morrison’s next words halted him in his tracks.

“There have been a few wagers placed as to the identity of the woman who has captured your interest to the exclusion of all else. I’ll admit to more than a small curiosity myself. I don’t suppose you’d care to enlighten me?”

The look he aimed at the slight man would have been enough to keep another from continuing. Morrision, however, had never been known to possess much good sense.

“She must be very good. Perhaps I can give her a go.”

Peripherally he became aware that their conversation was drawing the attention of others, but Andrew’s attention remained focused on the man before him. Every muscle in his body had tensed at Morrison’s last statement, but somehow he managed to keep from planting his fist into Morrison’s thin face.

“I don’t share.” Andrew’s words were clipped, his anger barely contained at that point, but the fool continued.

“Oh no, neither do I. I meant when you tire of her, of course.”

Morrison paled when Andrew took a step closer and allowed his hands to curl into fists at his side. One more word along the same vein would have been enough to destroy the little control still within his grasp.

Morrison opened his mouth but must have thought better of it, because he closed it again right away. With a quick nod, he turned and fled. Andrew’s gaze swung to the group of men that had stood by, watching the scene as it took place. They, too, wisely chose to turn away and pretend nothing had happened.

Without another word to anyone else, Andrew made his way from Westminster and headed straight for the house. It was already nine and he expected Miranda had long since returned home, no doubt thinking he had tired of her and was seeking other pursuits for the night. His pride had balked at the notion of showing any weakness, but now he regretted he hadn’t sent her a note telling her he would be late and asking her to wait for him. He didn’t want to analyze the part of him that feared she would have received the note and decided to go home anyway.

He didn’t realize his heart was racing until he found her in the bedroom. She had fallen asleep waiting for him, and as he took in her slender figure lying beneath the covers, it hit him like a fist to the gut that he still loved her. And they had only three more days until her monthly courses were due. After that, whether or not they had been successful, their affair would be over. It should have been over already, but neither of them had wanted to say the words that would end it, so they waited for nature to end it for them.

His need for her was a bone-deep ache. Refusing to acknowledge the unwelcome emotions going through him, he undressed and slid into bed bedside her. She woke when he drew her into his arms and the sleepy smile on her face made his heart turn over. Damn. It appeared he wasn’t going to remain unscathed when his relationship with Miranda ended—again.

* * *

He’d been insatiable, making love to her several times. The last time he’d been particularly forceful, and she sighed, remembering the things he had done. Her body ached, but she relished the sensation. Relished lying beside him now as he slept.

Andrew had always taken great pains to make sure she knew his interest in her was merely physical, so he must have been exhausted to allow himself to fall asleep. And she, desperate to know whatever modicum of closeness he chose to share, even if it was only physical, was content to accept their alliance for what it was. Now, watching him as he slept, she felt she’d been given a gift she’d never expected to receive.

His features were softer, making him look younger than his one and thirty years. In some ways, watching him sleep was more intimate than making love to him and her heart yearned for the closeness they had once shared.

She cursed herself for being a fool twice over. First for having denied her feelings for him all those years ago and allowing her parents to sway her into accepting Hathaway’s marriage proposal. But her second, and greater, mistake was the foolishness of her scheme to find a way to be close to him now.

She’d known almost from the start that their physical relationship was full of risks not just to her reputation, but also to her peace of mind. She’d never stopped loving Andrew, but at that moment she couldn’t hold back her regret as bitterness threatened to engulf her. A large part of her wished she had never started out to learn what it was like to make love to Andrew Osborne. Now, along with the memories she’d hoped to cling to during the coming years, she’d also have to live with the knowledge of what she could have had if she’d stood firm against her parents’ wishes. If she had, he would have asked her to marry him and they would still be together. She’d always known that to be true, but the full import of what she had lost had never been more clear to her.

Panic, remorse, regret… all swam within her and threatened to consume her. Stifling a sob, she rose from the bed and dressed with shaking hands. She allowed herself one more quick glance at the bed.

“Good-bye, Andrew,” she whispered before turning and escaping from the stifling confines of that unassuming house. She’d made her plans well and had no need to return to the Hathaway town house. She would simply disappear.

Chapter Seven

When Andrew woke the next morning and found himself alone in bed, disgust swept through him. Disgust that he had let down his guard and allowed himself to enjoy the comfort of holding Miranda as he fell asleep, for enjoy it he had. He’d clung to her the night before like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

Hoping to fix the damage he’d caused by spending the night, he dressed and went in search of Miranda so he could take his leave. He expected to find her in another room, perhaps the kitchen, but the annoyance he felt at his unwelcome sentimentality the night before changed to disbelief when he realized she wasn’t in the house. She hadn’t even left a note. A dark sense of foreboding settled over him like a shroud as he made his way from the house.

Not caring who took note of his visit, he called on her later that afternoon. The very last thing he’d expected to learn was that Hathaway’s heir had taken up residence.

Andrew was shown to the library and was taken aback by the tall, dark-haired man who joined him a few minutes later. The new Viscount Hathaway bore no resemblance whatsoever to the old one.

After making their introductions, they settled into armchairs across from one another.

Hathaway spoke first. “To what do I owe this honor?”