Terri Brisbin (18 page)

S
herman announced the dowager’s arrival at exactly two o’clock, the time she’d specified in her note the day before. Still surprised by Adrian’s request that she meet with the dowager, Miranda was waiting in the drawing room. Cordelia entered the room as she always did, head held high and looking down her nose. Although tempted to remain seated, Miranda stood and offered a welcome to Adrian’s mother.

“Your Grace,” she said, then she sat down and waved the butler over to serve tea and cakes.

“Miranda,” the dowager replied. “As I mentioned in my note to you, this is not a social call. Take the refreshments away, Sherman.”

The butler looked to Miranda before obeying the blatant and inappropriate order.

“I would like some tea, Sherman. Then you may take the rest away.” She felt a petty satisfaction from coun
termanding the dowager, but this was her home and it was her place to order the servants about if need be.

He poured the tea, added the amount of sugar she preferred and then handed it to her. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?” he asked.

“Leave us!” Cordelia ordered.

Surprised at her blatant rudeness, Miranda shook her head. “No, thank you, Sherman. You may all go.” He and the under butler and Fisk left the room, and Sherman closed the door behind them. She turned to face the older woman.

“You seem to be very agitated, Your Grace. Is there some problem?”

“The matter we have to discuss is of the utmost importance to the Windmere name, and I do not want to dawdle over drinking tea or coddling the servants. My son…”

“I did not know you were on speaking terms with your son. His last orders to me were that I should not meet with you without him present.” Trying to stay in control, she sipped her tea. “Until his note, of course, and yours.”

“Windmere trusts my discretion, and what we must discuss is extremely personal in nature. As his note indicated, he asked me to speak to you in this delicate matter. And he had given me permission, power even, to make certain arrangements on his behalf.”

Icy fingers ran up and down Miranda’s spine as the dowager spoke. Adrian allowing his mother to represent him? This did not sound right to her, but she waited to discover the real reason for this visit.

“I am his wife and the Duchess of Windmere, madam. What kind of arrangements can he want
you
to make?”

“You are not a stupid woman, Miranda, although certain of your actions have been questionable in the last few months. I am sure you know what I need to speak to you about.”

Miranda had not noticed the package the dowager had carried in with her until now. Opening it, Cordelia pulled out a familiar looking piece of paper and handed it to her. Dr. Blake’s report, although this one looked slightly different than the one she’d seen on Adrian’s desk.

“Have you seen this?” she asked.

“I have.”

“Then you know the eminent doctor’s findings. You will never bear a child and cannot fulfill your duties as Duchess of Windmere.”

“Physicians can be wrong, Your Grace. As yours was about Adrian’s treatment that night.”

“But the proof is here for all to see, Miranda. Seven years of marriage and not any results. I know the duke has been favoring you with much more attention these last few months, to no avail. Even sharing his bed has not helped.”

Miranda gasped. How could she know these things?

“He decided a few months ago to let his mistress go and concentrate on gaining a son. In spite of it, you have not conceived. Indeed, as the doctor concludes, your womb will never give him an heir.”

She was mixing different situations and making
it sound terrible. “That is not why he quit seeing her. He—”

Miranda stopped herself before the words spilled out. Adrian specifically did not want his mother to know of his health situation.

“Ah, yes, he did not stop seeing her completely. As a matter of fact, he called her back just a few weeks ago. He is tired of the farce he tried to maintain with you.”

“Farce? What farce?”

Cordelia’s face softened and she offered Miranda a look of sympathy. “As I tried to make you understand, men of his position and power need the diversion of other women to satisfy those more exotic desires they have. He was contented to spend himself on you while he thought you would produce a son, but your appeal has lessened with each passing month. Mrs. Robinson offers those diversions to him. Now that he has bought that house for her, there will be no need for him to frequent your fruitless bed.”

Miranda could not believe any of this. Yes, Adrian had bought the house for that woman, but it still did not make sense. His mother was twisting the facts for her own reasons. Miranda could not think that all of these months he had been dishonest. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. This did not make sense!

“Adrian loves me and I love him. You are lying….”

Cordelia leaned back and laughed at her words. Miranda could not ever remember the dowager doing such a thing.

“My dear, for five years I tried to counsel you about the role into which you married. Love has nothing to do with this union. Certainly, it is difficult to have such a vigorous physical relationship with someone without some tender feelings, but men of Windmere’s class do not love their wives.”

Cordelia stood and walked over to her. “Men such as Windmere marry for money and power and titles and sons. And that is the crux of this problem.
Your
problem. If you cannot give him a son, you are not needed. He stood courageously by you for some seven years without blaming you.” The dowager placed her hand on Miranda’s shoulder and patted it.

This was almost too easy, she thought. The girl was crumbling before her eyes and she’d seen only the first of many papers prepared for this. It was another reason the marriage must end, another sign of the gel’s unworthiness to continue to carry the Windmere name.

“There are two ways that we can escape this travesty, and Windmere has authorized me to offer you both. Because of your physical condition, our solicitor has suggested the best way is to seek an annulment of the marriage.”

The girl blinked and gasped. “An annulment? But we have been married for seven years, and certainly it has been consummated. There would be no grounds for an annulment.”

Cordelia sat again and nodded. “Generally, that might be correct. But the solicitor informed us that there
is a section of ecclesiastical law which equates sterility with impotence, and so both are grounds for an annulment. With the medical opinion of such a eminent physician stating so, and your cooperation, of course, this would be the quietest way to accomplish an end to the marriage and allow each of you to remarry. If you choose to, that is.”

“This is wrong. You are wrong. I cannot believe that Adrian would want me to do something like this.”

She could see the girl’s control slipping, and the doubts she was feeding her were working their way into her thoughts. “It is a difficult thing to do, Miranda, but much easier for all concerned than our other option. With an annulment, you would simply have to sign some papers and possibly submit to another examination. Privately, of course.” She paused until she had Miranda’s complete attention. “There is so much more involved in petitioning for a divorce.”

“Divorce,” she cried out. Then, lowering her voice, she stated, “There are no grounds for divorce.”

“Generally, the grounds are adultery and they are granted with certain proof being provided.” Cordelia reached into the portfolio of papers and drew out reports from the investigators she’d hired. “Now, I cannot believe that you have been involved in debauchery and lascivious behavior with all of these men, but the reports seem to indicate that you have.”

Shaking her head in denial, Miranda reached out and took the pile of reports. She did not need to know that
her investigators could rival the greatest writers of fiction in the last century, Cordelia decided. Not giving the chit time to examine them closely, she took the next step. “It does not seem fair that Windmere will not be considered responsible for his liaison with Mrs. Robinson, but in the eyes of the law and the courts, women are held to a much higher standard of acceptable behavior.”

“These,” shaking the papers in her hand, Miranda cried out, “are not true. Adrian was there at each of those encounters and will say so. He introduced those men to me and…” She drifted off, likely realizing that she’d damned him with her own words.

“Just so, my dear. And you will be held responsible for those
encounters
as you call them.”

Right when she thought Miranda’s capitulation was at hand, the girl demonstrated backbone Cordelia had not seen before.

“These are all lies. The papers, the investigators, even your suggestion that you do this at Adrian’s bidding.” Miranda stood and paced the room. “And how convenient for you that he is halfway to northern England and cannot be asked to corroborate your words.”

“Are you saying that I am lying? Call my bluff then and see if he comes to your rescue. Or if he
conveniently
is out of town for the worst of the scandal that will be caused by your refusal to come to some agreeable arrangements. Do not force his solicitors to step in and deal with you.”

“I cannot imagine why you would do something so
horrible to me, Cordelia. I have done nothing for the last eight years but provide a dowry to save your estates, marry your son and live in every way as you instructed me. What have I done to make you hate me so?” she asked, shaking her head.

The reason percolated just beneath her thoughts, but the dowager would not reveal it to this chit. “I do not hate you, my dear. In fact, I pity you for not being able to do what a true woman can do—produce a child for her husband. You will never know the joy of giving birth as I have. I pity you, Miranda. I don’t hate you.”

Completely inappropriately, the girl smiled at her and wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “You hate me because I have the one thing you could never claim, Cordelia. I have the love of my husband, and you cannot bear it. The old duke never loved you. He could barely tolerate you, as I understand it. And when you see what has happened between Adrian and me in spite of your efforts to the contrary, you cannot stand it. If he is involved with this, it is because of your poison. He loves me, Cordelia. Just remember that during all of your manipulations.”

She sat up straighter and glared at the girl. “I did not give you permission to use my Christian name. And since you will be leaving the family soon, I do not do so now.”

“There is one thing you do not know about Adrian, or you would not so foolishly have tried this.”

“Now you are bluffing,” she said. “My son keeps me completely informed in spite of appearances. He sent
me the doctor’s report after we discussed a possible divorce in his study.” Keeping as close to the truth as possible in one’s fabrications was pivotal, she knew.

Miranda sat down across from her and gave her a look of such pity that Cordelia almost cursed aloud. Shaking her head again, she spoke—with a confidence that made Cordelia slightly nervous.

“Although Adrian asked me not to speak of this to you, I think you should know the truth. As his mother, you should hear this from him, but your actions have given me no other choice.” Miranda reached over and finished the rest of her tea. “Even if he does not love me, and even if his mistress has returned to her place in his life, the reason that Adrian will not seek a divorce or an annulment is that he cannot.” She took a breath and let it out. “He does not have the time to pursue something as lengthy as those proceedings. He has, at most, only a few months to live.”

Cordelia had to admit that the girl was good. Calling her bluff in this way made her feel a touch of pride and a bit disappointed that Miranda could not bear an heir for her son. She clapped her hands in appreciation of the effort, well made if misguided and wrong.

“Three of the top physicians gave him the prognosis, each one a specialist in respiratory diseases and conditions. His asthmatic condition is worsening, has worsened, to the point that they told him in the spring that he would probably not live out the year.”

“Their names?” Cordelia asked, narrowing her gaze.

“Drs. Wilkins, Lloyd and Penworthy.”

“You are bluffing now, for they are in my employ and would have informed me of any such dire prediction.”

Miranda could see the dowager’s hands trembling, and it gave her hope. And hearing that Cordelia paid these doctors, she wondered who else was being paid to provide information about their private lives. How else could Adrian’s mother know so many details?

Miranda walked to the door and opened it, calling out to Sherman. “Is Mr. Webb available or has he accompanied the duke to Windmere Park?”

“He left with His Grace. His assistant, Mr. Taylor, is in his office, ma’am,” the butler said.

“Call him here, if you please, Sherman. Immediately.”

Within the few minutes it took her to write the doctors’ names and directions down, the tall, young man reported to her. He stepped into the room and bowed. “Your Grace? How can I be of service?”

“Take the dowager’s coach and bring these men back here immediately. Tell them that it is a matter of the utmost importance and urgency. Do not let them refuse, Mr. Taylor. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied, taking the note from her. “Immediately.”

He left, and Miranda knew the only thing that she could do was wait. She took the package of papers now and sat as far from the dowager as she could get before beginning to read them. She was so upset by the information included in them that she had to stop several
times. The dowager had done her work well, and to someone not familiar with her or Adrian, every lie she told would seem true.

The commotion in the hallway outside the room told her that the doctors had arrived, and it was finally time to put the dowager in her place. Miranda stood to greet them. As Sherman announced them, they removed their hats and bowed to her and Adrian’s mother. Then they greeted the dowager personally, and it did appear as though they knew her.