Page 2 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)

Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of an elderly maid carrying a tray with the tea and an assortment of cakes. She was followed by Justin, telltale crumbs of fresh shortbread clinging to his ruddy cheeks.

“I am not sure toads like shortbread,” he announced, as he peeked down into his shirt.

Miranda could hardly keep a straight face, despite the emotions stirred by the previous exchange of words. “Well, perhaps it is an acquired taste, And perhaps Mr. Toad should not learn to like it, lest he feel deprived once he returns to the wild.”

Lady Thornton smiled as well. She was well used to her young relative’s fascination with both flora and fauna. “I need not ask what is making the muslin of your shirt twitch in such a manner.”

“Would you like to see him?” asked Justin eagerly

“I believe Aunt Sophia knows what a toad looks like,” said his mother dryly.

“Oh, very well.” He surreptitiously took up a slice of rich Dundee cake studded with raisins. “May I go show Angus, then? He could help me make a box and fix it with some nice dirt and leaves.”

“Yes, you may. But you mustn’t be too long. Supper will be ready soon, and then there is a bath awaiting before bedtime.”

“Yes, Mama.” The little boy’s shoulders sagged in resignation as he abandoned the fleeting hope that his mother had forgotten about the promised soap and water.

“And that’s quite enough sweets for now.”

His hand shot back from the tray. “Yes, Mama.”

As soon as he was gone from the room, both of the ladies couldn’t help but exchange amused smiles.

“I vow, my life would be sadly flat without the two of you here, so let me never hear another word about you being a burden to me,” said Lady Thornton as she poured them both a cup of tea.

“Oh, Aunt Sophia, I’m so sorry if I?—”

“You needn’t say anything more on the matter.

I didn’t mean to upset you. I know your determination to deal with the consequences of …

the past.” Lady Thornton pushed at the gold spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose and cleared her throat.

“While you know I have always admired your courage, I cannot help at times to think you allow … pride to cloud your better judgement.”

Miranda’s head jerked up and she looked for a moment as if to speak. Then she bit her lip and began to stir her tea.

“But let us talk of other things,” her great aunt said quietly. “Did you see Mr. MacAllister in the south fields? He wanted to ask your opinion on ….”

The conversation steered to less turbulent topics as they discussed the latest news from the surrounding farms and a few bits of local gossip.

Though Lady Thornton kept up a cheerful countenance and a constant stream of pithy comments, Miranda knew her well enough to sense something was amiss.

Finally she set aside her plate, the cakes untouched.

“Aunt Sophia, what is wrong?”

The older lady stopped in mid sentence. Instead of answering right away, she rose and went over to the writing desk by the wall and took up a folded letter. Without a word, she handed it to her niece.

Miranda skimmed the contents, then looked up, her eyes betraying a flare of emotion.

Lady Thornton met her niece’s troubled gaze.

“I grew up at Talney Hall. I hadn’t expected my brother to leave it to me, but as it wasn’t part of the entail, and he knew what fond memories I have of it …

.” She trailed off for a moment. “I know how loath you are to set foot in England, my dear. If you are entirely opposed to it, I shall not consider taking up residence there. However, at some point, you are going to have to address Justin’s future. ”

Miranda’s jaw tightened.

“It is true that Highcroft Manor is close by,” she added in a voice barely above a whisper.

“But it is a minor estate which I have never known Julian to visit. Why, I doubt he even knows he owns it.” A pause hung for an instant in the air.

“Besides, he is only lately returned from Portugal and after so many years of absence, I doubt he shall wish to stir far from London for quite some time.”

At the mention of the name, Miranda paled considerably. Her fingers clenched the creased paper, causing a slight crackle.

A sad little sigh escaped Lady Thornton’s lips. “I only ask that you think on it?—”

“That isn’t necessary,” replied Miranda. She gave a harsh laugh. “You are no doubt right. London has entirely too many attractions for him to think of quitting it for some time.”

Her great aunt’s lined face took on a look of pinched concern. “Miranda?—”

“No, really. When do you wish to leave?”

“Do not rush your decision, my dear. I only meant to broach the idea.”

Miranda dismissed the suggestion with a determined shrug.

“It would be selfish in the extreme for me to deny you this.” She cut off another attempt at protest from her relative with an impatient wave.

“And you are quite right about Justin. Obviously he must return to England at some point, and perhaps it’s best done while he is young. ”

Falling silent, she stared at the lines of script that had so swiftly altered her life.

“In any case, after seven years, a new scandal must certainly have come to the fore.” Her mouth quirked in an attempt at a smile.

“Surely no one will care overly about a cast-off wife, even if they discover who I am.”

“Miranda,” repeated Lady Thornton, her voice was full of anguish.

“No, truly, it is all right. I believe I am ready to face it. At least, as you say, there is little chance of having to encounter His Lordship until … much later.”

“You are sure?”

She nodded, wishing she felt nearly as certain as her words would indicate.

The contents of the glass were downed in one swallow, then quickly refilled from the crystal decanter on the mahogany sideboard.

The gentleman then limped to the oversized leather armchair by the fire and took a seat with a grunt of relief.

He unknotted the elegant cravat at his throat, tossed it aside and stretched his long legs out towards the dancing flames.

Closing his eyes, he raked a hand through his raven locks and then, with an audible sigh, took another long draught of the aged French brandy.

The library door opened quietly and a wiry little man made his way across the thick Aubusson carpet with hardly a sound. His brows came together slightly at the sight his employer’s exhausted face.

“Tough night, guv?”

Julian Grosvenor, the Marquess of Sterling, rubbed wearily at his aching forehead.

“I had forgotten how interminable these evenings are, what with the prosing bores at my club, the simpering hosts and ballrooms packed with predatory …” He gave a humorless laugh.

“I swear, Sykes, at times it seems that facing Boney’s troops was less of an ordeal than a Season in Town. ”

The other man grinned as he gathered up the discarded cravat and bent to move a small hassock in place beneath the marquess’s left boot.

“That bad, is it? Well, I am exceedingly glad I don’t have to endure the terrible hardship of swilling champagne with the toffs and dancing until dawn with all them beautiful ladies. A rough life indeed, guv.”

That coaxed a low chuckle from Julian.

Seeing that the fine lines of stress etched around the marquess’s eyes were beginning to relax, Sykes went on.

“Surely you have no complaints of where you end up. I vow, I ain’t never seen a more ravishing ladybird than that opera dancer of yours.

Half the gentlemen of the ton would give a fortune to trade places with you. ”

Julian showed no surprise at the frank manner of his former batman.

He pulled face as he gave another short laugh.

“A fortune is exactly what they would give! I fear the ravishing Madame St. Honore is also becoming rather too demanding.” His mouth tightened.

“Despite the fact that she doesn’t shrink from the sight of my

disfigurement.” He finished off the rest of the brandy in one swift gulp. “Pour me another, will you, Sykes. And one for yourself.”

The other man regarded the marquess for a moment. “Ain’t you had enough for tonight? Why not let me help you up to bed? You’ve been hitting the bottle rather heavily these past few weeks and we’ve seen what that can do to a man.” He paused. “Nothing good, I might add..”

Julian stared into the fire. “No doubt you’re right,” he answered after a moment. His eyes pressed closed. “Now be so good as to fill my glass.”

Sykes took it without a word and added a small amount of spirits, then fixed one for himself.

He cleared his throat as he handed over the brandy.

“Well, perhaps a female presence will be a civilizing influence in this house—though I imagine there will be some changes. I doubt some fine lady would tolerate the likes of me as a peer of the realm’s valet. ”

Julian’s head jerked around. “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

“Servants talk, guv. Word has it that an engagement between your august self and this Season’s Incomparable, the lovely Miss Wiltshire, is not far off.” He paused for a fraction. “The betting books list the odds at over two to one for those wagering a yes.”

A string of oaths exploded from Julian’s lips, followed by further imprecations concerning scheming mamas and obsequious papas with pockets to let.

“Why, the lady in question cannot repress a shudder at the sight of my dragging step, no matter what charming manners her parents have tried to drum into her head.” He took a deep breath and added with some vehemence, “You may assured I have no plans to fall into the parson’s mousetrap any time soon. ”

“Now that you’ve come into the title, don’t you have to think about setting up a nursery?

“I’m not about to stick my spoon in the wall just yet,” muttered Julian. “I have plenty of time to … deal with that issue.”

Sykes eyed him with a certain curiosity, but refrained from any comment.

“Have you ever been to the Lake District?” asked the marquess abruptly.

“Can’t say that I have, guv.”

“I am considering a visit there to one of my properties.”

The former soldier rubbed at his jaw to hide his surprise. “Now why do we want to go and do that for? From what I hear tell, nothing much up there but hills and sheep and … lakes, I suppose.”

“Precisely.”

“Well, it’s a hell of a trek if what you’re looking for is a bit of peace and quiet. Why don’t we just retire to Crestwood if you wish to avoid Society for a time?”

Julian shook his head. He forbore to add that his primary estate still held too many bittersweet memories for him to take any comfort there.

“It’s time I paid more attention to the rest of my holdings.

I mean to take my responsibilities seriously.

Since my father’s death three years ago and my accession to the title, I’ve barely spent more than a fortnight in England …

until now.” He gestured towards his desk.

“There is a pile of correspondence from bailiffs of estates I didn’t even know I owned. ”

“Can’t we pick one a tad closer to the comforts of Town?” groused Sykes. “I’d have thought you’d had enough of roughing it after all them years on the Peninsula. I know I damn well have,” he added under his breath.

“The farther, the better,” muttered Julian. “You don’t have to come along, you know. You are welcome to stay here in Sterling House and have run of the place while I’m gone.”

Sykes gave a snort of disgust. “Oh, aye. I’m just the sort of paltry fellow to shirk from a little discomfort and let you go haring off on your own. Or perhaps, now that we’re in England, you’d rather hire some fancy fellow more befitting to your station.”

Julian’s mouth quirked in a rueful smile. “What, and miss your deferential manner and polite conversation?”

The other man grinned, then shook his head in resignation. “Well, at least it’s useful you being a fancy lord and all. I imagine we won’t have to be sleeping in a bloody stable, like old times.”