Page 36 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)

“Upon my word, guv, you’ve finally come to your senses! That’s the best idea you’ve had since engaging me as your batman.” Sykes rubbed at his chin. “Now let me see, first off, you’ll need a special license if you mean to put things right without any more delay.”

“It’s been in my desk for several weeks.”

The valet’s face was wreathed in a broad smile. “I always said you was a dab hand at planning. It’s still early—shall I fetch the vicar now?”

“Aye. And on your way back, you must stop and bring back my aunt and my son so they may be part of the celebration.” A wry smile. “Oh, and why not ask Angus and Jem to join us as well.”

His lips brushed against her forehead. “It may not be St. George’s in Hanover Square this time, my love, but we will have the people we care about most with us.” He looked back at Sykes. “Tell Cook she will have to outdo herself tonight, for we will be in need of a wedding supper.”

Miranda finally found her voice. “Have both of you taken leave of your senses? Mr. Sykes, you will ignore His Lordship’s orders. I fear he has succumbed to a sudden fever and has lost all reason.”

Julian chuckled. “I may be delirious, but only with happiness, my love. Now on your way, Sykes.”

“Mr. Sykes!” she protested, not daring to let herself believe she wasn’t dreaming.

“Sorry, milady.” He gave her a little wink. “But an order is an order, and I dare not disobey.”

“Wait!”

The valet hesitated.

The marquess’s brows rose in question.

Miranda took a deep breath. Things were happening at a dizzying rate. She needed a moment to collect herself and grasped at the one reason for delay that no man could possibly argue with. “For one thing, surely neither of you could expect a female to consent to being married dressed like this.”

Her gesture waved over her shabby gown—the frayed cuffs and hem, the discreetly mended tears and the faded color that now lingered somewhere between smoke and dust.

Sykes pursed his lips, unable to think of any reply, but the marquess merely smiled once more.

“Indeed not. Fortunately, there is a trunkful of Madame Celeste’s creations freshly arrived from London.

Sykes, on your way downstairs, have one of the maids lay them out in the adjoining suite so that Miranda may take her choice.

And make sure that she sees that dress—” He indicated the offending garment ”—is consigned to the ragbin where my wife will never have to lay eyes on it again. ”

The valet dumped the forgotten tea tray on top of the marquess’s polished bureau and snapped a smart salute as he hurried from the room. The door came firmly shut behind him.

Overcome with confusion, Miranda fell silent and refused to meet Julian’s gaze.

The laughter died from his face. “I’m sorry. Good Lord, I’ve made a worse mull of things than before. I meant to pay my addresses properly and with polish this time, not stammer them out like some tongue-tied idiot.”

She murmured something, in so soft a voice that he had to ask her to repeat the words.

“I never thought of them as idiotic.”

“They were those of a callow schoolboy.” Julian gave a crooked smile.

“I’ve composed a countless number of more eloquent speeches during the past few days, but I find all the fine words have suddenly deserted me.

” He drew in a breath. “Can you bring yourself to accept my proposal of marriage—along with my deepest regret for the pain of the past? I shall endeavor to be a better husband to you in the future”

Miranda looked up in shock.” You are apologizing?”

“Yes. I have come to realize I how pompous and foolish I was. We all make mistakes. Instead of trying to understand and work things out, I cast away the thing I loved best in a fit of childish pique. You may not countenance it, but I have suffered perhaps as much as you from it. I have missed you every day of these past seven years.”

Her head sank against his shoulder. “Yes, I made a mistake—but not the one you think. I should have come to you and forced to listen rather than retreat behind a wall of pride. Aunt Sophia has always said I was a fool to have given you up so easily. She might have made me see reason, but then … you were gone.”

“The past doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does, though.” She choked down a sob. “Julian, I cannot marry you.”

He went very pale. “Why not?”

When she didn’t answer right away, he tipped her chin up so that she was forced to look in his eyes. “I had come to believe that you still harbored some regard for me, but perhaps I am wrong. Is your heart engaged elsewhere?”

“No,” she whispered. “I shall never love anyone but you.”

His face betrayed his relief. “Then why?”

Still she remained silent. As he made to caress her cheek, his leg buckled slightly, drawing a cry of alarm from Miranda. Her arm came around his waist in support and she guided him back to the side of the bed, forcing him to take a seat on the plump mattress.

To her surprise, he refused to release her and drew her down close beside him.

“I won’t be driven away so easily this time, Miranda.

I want you here next to me every night. I want to raise our son together.

I want to have other sons and daughters with you as well.

Good Lord, one lesson I have learned in war is that there are precious few second chances in life, so let us not waste this one. ”

She buried her face in his shoulder. “That you could offer your forgiveness means more to me than I can ever express, but ….” Her voice faltered. “But you would always think, in your heart, that I had been capable of betraying you. I don’t think I could bear it, Julian.”

It suddenly seemed he was having trouble trying to catch his breath—as if her big groom had landed another powerful blow to the middle of his chest. Finally, he managed a hoarse whisper. “I think it’s time you help me understand what happened that night.”

“Do you know how many times I have wished that I had heard that request on your lips?” said Miranda softly. “Rather than see the look of bitter accusation in your eyes.”

“I am asking it now, Miranda. Pleas tell me, and strip the past of the power to hurt us anymore.”

She looked up at him, a mixture of hope and fear mingled in her expression.

Hope that he was right, and fear that he may not believe the truth.

That was the crux of it, Miranda admitted to herself.

She had been too afraid of what his choice would have been when faced with trusting her or another.

She wasn’t sure she could have survived that sort of rejection, and so she had hidden behind pride and anger.

She had survived all the insults and hardships thrown at her by Society—that had seemed almost easy in comparison.

Was she strong enough now to meet the same challenge?

As their eyes met, Julian gave her hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement. And suddenly the decision didn’t seem so difficult.

“There was no clandestine meeting in the library with some lover.”

Julian’s throat visibly tightened.

“It was ….” She nearly choked on the words. “… it was Lord Averill. He found me alone and tried to convince me to dally with me.”

His eyes pressed closed as the awful truth began to sink in.

“When I refused, he … he forced his attentions on me, just enough to put me in the state you saw.” She shuddered at the memory.

“I tried to fight back, but he was too strong. After he had humiliated me, he warned me not to speak of it to anyone, lest you be caught up in a scandal. I agreed, thinking it would save you from any … hurt.”

“Good God,” he rasped.

“And so he left the room, telling me to wait for a bit before I tried to make my way to my room.” Her voice betrayed a tremor.

“What a gudgeon I was to believe he had even a shred of honor. I had heard him mutter that he would see me suffer for thwarting his plans. I just never imagined even he could come up with such a malicious plot.”

“And instead of the support you needed I gave you only harsh accusations.” Julian’s arms fell away from and he buried his head in his hands.

“I deserve every ounce of your scorn, and more,” he added in a hollow voice.

“Averill sought me out in the billiard room and, with a great sigh of regret, told me that as a friend and a gentleman he felt obliged to inform me of what he had seen. He claimed that he had gone looking for a book in the library, only to surprise you and a lover … in the throes of lovemaking, and quite clearly enjoying it.”

His jaw worked. “He was always the clever one, and he certainly sensed how vulnerable I was to the suggestion that perhaps I wasn’t man enough to hold your esteem. Well, he played me for the fool. And what a fool I was, not to see through his shameless lies.”

“Then you … you believe me?”

“My God, how you must hate me,” was his only response.

“No.” Her hand stroked through his tangled locks.

“Oh, I told myself I did because it helped me bear what followed. But I always knew I was only fooling myself.” She sighed.

“It was unfair—I didn’t give you a chance.

What else could you think when confronted with such a sight.

I should have followed you and forced you to listen!

It is only to your credit that you could not conceive of a gentleman making such a mockery of honor. ”

“You are far too generous in excusing my actions. As your husband I promised to love and protect you and I failed miserably. I see now that I don’t deserve a second chance.”

The marquess raised his head and to Miranda’s shock, there were tears on his lean cheeks.

“Oh, Julian.”

Cradled in her arms, he wept like a child

When at last he stopped, she lifted his face and pressed her lips to his salty skin. “We all deserve a second chance,” she murmured between kisses. “And I think you are right. That monster, and the past, has held us in his thrall long enough. Let our tears today wash the slate clean.”