Page 15 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)
Eight
J ulian tethered his stallion to the branch of a live oak and slowly made his way to the crest of the ridge.
The wind kicked up a bit, ruffling his hair with a lick of dampness that hinted at rain to come.
He stood for a moment and savored its coolness.
It felt welcome after nearly a whole day in the saddle on what had turned out to be a fruitless search along the western border.
Now, as the sun sunk closer to the rugged hills beyond the pasture, he was content merely to gaze out at the play of light, the echo of cool pinks and mauves, so different from the sun-baked hues of the Peninsula.
It was a pretty vista. He took another few steps over to where an ledge of rock allowed an even better vantage point, as well as a spot for him to relieve the weight on his bad leg.
High above, a goshawk floated in the cross currents, then beat a lazy retreat towards the moors.
There was little sound, save for the rustling of young leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl …
And something else.
At first he wasn’t sure if it was aught but his imagination, but then it came again.
Low and plaintive, it might almost have been taken for the cry of a wounded bird.
Puzzled, he got up and moved quietly in the direction of the odd sound.
A fringe of moss on the weathered stone muffled the scrape of his boots as he slid around the outcropping of tumbled granite.
The marquess drew in his breath sharply at the sight that appeared before him. Sitting there, knees drawn up to her chin, head buried in her arms, was Miranda.
He fell back a step, uncertain of whether to interrupt her private grief or retreat before she became aware of his presence. But her head jerked up as he stumbled over a loose stone.
“Oh!” She scrambled to her feet and looked around wildly for somewhere to flee but he was blocking the only way off the ledge.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to … intrude. I heard a strange noise and came to invest—” As he caught sight of her tearstained face, he stopped abruptly. “Why, you’re frightfully upset. What is wrong?”
Miranda swiped her sleeve over her cheek. “Nothing!” she said. “Now kindly step aside, sir, and let me pass.” She tried to dodge around him but he set his hand on her shoulder to stop her from slipping by.
“Nothing? You have never been one to throw a fit of vapors over nothing, Miranda.” His mouth crooked in a rueful half smile. “What you mean is, it is nothing you wish to share with me.”
“You … wouldn’t understand, milord.”
His face was mere inches from hers. “Why don’t you try me?”
Miranda became very still.
“Come,” he said gently. He took her hand and led her around to where he had been watching the sun sink into the gathering clouds. She sat down stiffly, taking great care to avoid his eyes.
Julian followed the direction of her gaze. “The wildness has a great beauty, does it not?” he remarked, taking a seat beside her. He removed a heavy silk handkerchief from his pocket and placed it on her lap.
Miranda nodded. “I find myself coming here often—to watch the day end,” she said haltingly “And … to think.” She fingered the thick embroidered crest in the corner of the square for some time before speaking. “I want to do the right thing for Justin.”
“Judging from what I have observed, it would seem you have precious little to fear on that score.”
She slanted him a quick look that betrayed her surprise.
“I meant what I said before, Miranda.” he said quietly. “It is clear you have been a wonderful mother.”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “I had expected that certain decisions might be put off until he was older. But now that you are here ….” She trailed off.
Julian didn’t press her.
After a long bit of silence she went on. “I’m … afraid. Afraid that I may be tempted to choose what is best for me, rather than what is best for Justin. But you see, I’m not sure I can bear to lose him—” Her voice broke. “For he is all I have.”
Looking angry and embarrassed at having given way to such weakness, she muttered an oath under her breath and made to brush away her tears. But before she could do any such thing, he pulled her close, so close that her cheek was resting against the soft wool of his riding coat.
“You never have to fear that you will lose Justin,” he whispered as his fingers crept up to stroke the top of her hair. “As for the other things—well, we’ll find a way to manage.”
She started to pull away, but her resistance seemed to dissolve in another sob. Then another, and another.
Julian held her until at last her shoulders ceased to heave and she was able to lift her head from his shoulder.
“Oh dear, I’m never such a water pot,” she said rather shakily. Essaying a weak smile, she added, “I fear your coat, sir, will soon be in ruins, what with the ill-treatment it has seen of late.”
“The devil take my coat.” He regarded her with concern. “Better?”
Miranda took a deep breath. “Yes, thank you.”
“You know,” he said after a brief hesitation. “There is no need for you to face all of these things on your own anymore.”
Her head came up sharply. “No?”
“What I mean is, you may count on my support from now on. Together we may?—”
“Don’t be absurd!” she cried unsteadily, turning away. “Why, even if we weren’t—” She stopped to search for words. “That is, it is quite absurd to suggest that I might come to depend on your help. Just how long will it be before you return to London?”
When he didn’t answer, her mouth twitched in a grim smile. “So, there. You see.”
Julian jammed his hands into his coat pockets and stared out at the setting sun. It was some time before he finally spoke again. “I’ll have you know I have already sent word to my man of affairs to have the papers drawn up recognizing Justin as my legal heir.”
“That is certainly … magnanimous of you, sir.”
“Magnanimous?” he repeated incredulously. “Why, it is the only right thing to do! He is my son.” His eyes flicked towards her. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Some flash of emotion crossed her face. “It may be, as you say, the right thing, but have you truly considered the ramifications of such action?”
He looked at her in confusion.
She drew in a deep breath. “When you remarry sir, your new wife will not be best pleased to learn that her firstborn son will not be the future Marquess of Sterling. It is a serious matter and one that your man of affairs will no doubt suggest you think about very carefully. I imagine his advice—and that of many of your friends—will be to leave things as they are.”
“You think me so easily led by the nose that I should choose that which is expedient rather than that which is right?” he asked with a touch of bitterness.
She avoided his eyes..
“Besides,” he added in a low voice. “I have no plans to remarry.”
“But what about the incomparable Miss Wiltshire? I had thought the ton expected an announcement of the upcoming nuptials any day now.”
Julian inhaled sharply.
“Aunt Sophia receives the London papers,” she said in response to the sound. She colored. “I may have lost my name and my looks but I have not lost my ability to read.”
Julian hesitated a moment before replying. “There is no understanding between the young lady and myself,” he growled. “Regardless of what the gossips may speculate.”
Miranda’s hands remained clasped tightly in her lap. “It is said the young lady is beyond beautiful,” she said softly. “And entirely beyond reproach, which must be an even greater attraction for you, considering … the past.”
Julian’s brow creased momentarily at her words.
He shifted his seat uncomfortably. “I have made no offer—to Miss Wiltshire or to anyone.” For a moment, his gaze seemed to linger on the tips of his polished Hessians.
“What of you, Miranda?” he asked in a halting voice. ” Have you no plans to remarry?”
A harsh laugh burst from her lips. “I imagine it is very gratifying to be able to mock me thus, milord. Rest assured I need no reminder from you of the differences in our future prospects.”
“Mock?” he repeated slowly. “Is that what you think I was doing?”
Her profile was to him, her eyes intent on following the peregrinations of the distant hawk. “No doubt you wish to be paid back for the humiliation you suffered because of the scandal.” She raised her chin a fraction. “I am well aware of the fact that no man would waste a glance at me?—”
Julian felt his chest constrict. Reaching out his hand, he touched her wrist. “Of that you are very wrong,” he whispered. “You have, if anything, grown even more beautiful, Miranda.”
She pulled away from him in some confusion. “You may cease such teasing, sir. I look in the mirror each day and have no illusions of how I appear. Not that it matters, for I have no intention of putting myself at the mercy of some man’s whim ever again.
Julian opened his mouth as if to speak.
“And even if I did, what man on earth would wish to offer for a female thrown off as a … whore?” There was a catch in her voice as she spoke the last, awful word. With a jerk of her skirts, she jumped to her feet and hurried away back down the path .
Julian was too shocked to react. He watched in stunned silence as her willowy figure melded into the lengthening shadows. A covering of clouds had leached the colors from the setting sun, casting a pall of grey over the weathered granite and windswept pines.
For some reason, his spirits suddenly felt as leaden as his surroundings.
His mouth compressed in a tight line as he tried to make some sense out of it all.
In some ways, Miranda’s accusations were not far from the truth.
More times than he cared to admit, he had lain awake at night imagining a meeting between them, one where he would take great satisfaction in seeing her humbled and hurt.
He had thought that somehow it would serve to assuage his own pain.