by Stacy Reid
I miss you dreadfully, my dear boy, and I hope to see you soon. Lady Miranda and her family will also dine with us as we gather to celebrate William and Lady Miranda’s fortuitous attachment.
Your loving mother, Amelia, the Duchess of Wycliffe.
Another chance to see her again. He had always been so decisive choosing his path in life, so certain of his purpose in all he did, yet now he felt adrift, uncertain of his next steps forward. He believed in never wasting one of the most precious things about humanity—time. It waited on no man, and as a physician, he had seen many regret not having fought for what they had wanted from life. Even in William, he saw the keen regret he had not eloped with Sophia and ignored their parents’ objection to their marriage.
Miranda aroused Simon’s mind, body, and soul, and he did not want a future without her in it. Simon was certain as the rising sun that he could not allow Miranda to slip from his life. Perhaps if he had thought her happy with being William’s wife he could have stepped back. For she deserved love, to be cosseted, and treasured. William had no heart or tender sentiments to offer her, for he had buried those along with Sophia.
And even in that, Simon lied to himself. No more, he silently snapped. He rubbed a hand against his chest at the pain that pierced him at the thought of Miranda in his brother's arms, her eyes deadened by his eventual indifference.
He had the sudden, inexplicable feeling that he did not truly know the full heart and character of the woman he loved, and he had a lifetime with her ahead of him to learn her layers, if only he would but reach and fight for her.
Turning around, he faltered to see Mrs. Clayton hovering in the doorway. “It is a request for me to attend a dinner with William…and Lady Miranda and her family.”
“Will you go?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated then said, “Pardon the impertinence, Dr. Astor, will you let her slip away from you?”
“No.”
His housekeeper smiled. “Good, for I’ve never seen you so completed before, Sir.” Then she turned away. “I’ll arrange for your departure, Doctor.”
And though he did not know what he would say, Simon said, “I want to leave at first light.”
Chapter 11
The Cheswick family had been summoned to Hawthorne Park, the ancestral seat of the Duke of Wycliffe, and that of her fiancé. Over the last few days Miranda had felt numbed with a sense of betrayal and such hurt she had been unable to sleep, nor had she been able to speak to her mother despite the countess’s overtures. How she had missed him and feared she had disgusted him. Simon had been so silently furious in his condemnation, yet he had not spoken out against the engagement. Why not? Why have you given up so easily…did you not love me?
She had eventually closed her heart against the recriminations, understanding there was nothing he could have done. Her mother had contrived for the duke and her to be in a locked room overnight, and her reputation was soiled. It mattered little that only the occupants of Riversend Manor, the duke, and the vicar and his wife, were aware of the scandalous situation, her mother would demand her pound of flesh, and the duke seemed to breathe honor.
They had only been at Seaview Park, their country home for a few hours before they received a letter from the duchess inviting them to dinner. And the following morning, another arduous journey had begun as they made their way to Hampshire via carriage.
Mira remained silent for the several days' journey, with her nose buried inside a book. They stayed overnight at some respectable inns along the way, and at night when alone, she cried into her pillows until sleep claimed her. When each day she rose to continue the journey her mother would stare at her puffed up eyes, but no comment was asked for, and she did not render an explanation.
The ache in her chest became a physical thing, and there was no ease in its tightening grip. It had been a little over a week, and whenever she envisioned a life beside the duke, being his wife, hosting his dinners and political parties, sharing his kisses and bed, she became numb. That was a life she could not bear to tolerate for herself, and Miranda knew she could not do it.
They arrived at Hawthorne Park, and her mother gasped, “Look at what you will be mistress of!”
And though it was one of the most beautiful estates she had ever seen, with a large stately home which boasted more than one hundred rooms, she remained unmoved. The Duchess and William greeted Miranda, her parents, and her brother, and they went into a lavishly furnished drawing room for tea.
The Duchess was still quite beautiful, and Miranda supposed she had not yet reached fifty. She was dressed in lavender silk trimmed with black ribbon bows, which denoted half mourning although her husband had been dead for more than six years. On one of their long walks, Simon had explained she had slipped into deep melancholia for she had loved him very much.
To Miranda’s mind, the entire scene had been filled with tension, for despite trying, she could manage no more than a one-word reply to each of the duchess’s probing questions. Propriety and gratitude for her acceptance as her son’s future wife, dictated that Miranda should be utterly polite and eager to gain the duchess’s approval, but she could not find the energy to care.
“I am terribly sorry. The journey has been tiring, and I would like to rest before dinner.”
“Of course, my dear,” the duchess said, her blue eyes sharp and questioning.
Her papa, whose only interest in the visit was that he might do a spot of fishing during his weeklong visit to Hawthorne Park sent her a probing look of concern which she returned with a wan smile. Miranda had not told him of Mamma’s conduct, already knowing he would do whatever his wife wanted. He had always weakly obeyed her strictures throughout the years and the meekness of his character Miranda believed her mamma shamelessly took advantage of.
Miranda was excused, and she got some rest before Agnes roused her to be dressed.
"Milady, please forgive me," Agnes said, tears filling her eyes. "I've never seen you so unhappy, and I feel wretched to have been a party to your pain.”
Miranda sighed. “Pray do not regard it, Agnes. If you had objected or refused my mother, I daresay you would have been dismissed without references. I shall be quite fine.”
She gave her a reassuring smile and allowed Agnes to dress her in one of the most ravishing gowns she owned. Her mother had insisted upon the dark rose low cut gown with its tightly cinched waist and narrow skirt. It flattered her figure most becomingly. Her hair was caught up in a riot of curls with a few artful tendrils kissing her cheeks. When she saw herself in the mirror, Miranda was pleased with her appearance. No one had to know that inside she was ravaged and bleeding.
Promptly at eight, she descended the stairs and was guided by a footman to a large and elegantly appointed drawing room. The duke surged to his feet at her entrance and admiration lit his eyes.
“You are a delight to behold, Lady Miranda,” he murmured.
She offered him a tight smile, unable to speak beyond the emotions in her throat. As propriety dictated, he led his mother inside the dining room, her papa escorted her mother, and Henry accompanied Miranda.
“Simon!” the duchess gasped.
Miranda stiffened as she saw him already seated. Her knees weakened, and she clutched at Henry's arm. He sent her a swift, concerned glance but she could not wrest her gaze from Simon. He looked wonderful, dressed in dark jacket and trousers, with a white shirt and a blue waistcoat. His hair was well groomed, and his cravat was tied expertly. She had never seen him more handsome and coolly aloof.
He stood and bowed. "I took the liberty of waiting in here for you to arrive, Mamma."
“Why wasn’t I informed you had arrived, my boy?” she hurried over to him and clasped him in a fierce embrace.
“I confess I designed it that way,” he said with a small smile at his mother.
Over her head, their gazes collided and the warmth in his stole her breath. She sent him a tremulous smile, while her heart pounded a brea
thless rhythm. Soon they were all seated, and the courses of watercress soup, game pie, lamb cutlets, mushroom fritters, roast beef, baked pike, artichoke hearts followed by rose water-flavored ice, jellies in a flower shape, fruit compote, and Genoese cake were served. Dinner was quite animated, though Miranda had little to say. Almost two hours had passed before the duchess ordered champagne to be served. Once the footmen had their glasses filled, she beamed at everyone.
“I cannot adequately express my happiness that my son is getting married, and to such a lovely girl, despite her being a little timid.”
A few strained chuckles went around the table, and her mother sent her a glance which promised a fierce scolding.
“I would like to make a toast….” She smiled at Simon who had stood and lifted his glass. “Though I gather your younger brother is eager to go first.”
Miranda’s heart thumped as he stared at her, and she nervously glanced around the table.
“I am not a man of many words, and I hope the few that I have will convey my feelings.” He cleared his throat and glanced at his brother. “I know your honor is very important to you, but I must explain that Lady Miranda is my Sophia.”
The duchess gasped and lowered her glass onto the table with an audible thud. “Simon?” she questioned sharply.
William stared at his brother, an expression of shock on his face. Simon shifted to face her. "I love you," he merely said.
“What is this?” her father demanded, pushing back his chair and standing. “I demand an explanation.”
“I love your daughter, Lord Langford, and I believe she loves me as well. A union between her and my brother would be a mistake, for he does not love her, nor does she love him. Your countess conspired for them to be compromised, and then my brother merrily went along with her conniving because he wants a wife without the messy emotion of love.”
Her father breathed deeply. “Nonetheless, an offer has been made, our family has accepted, and the engagement has been posted! There will be no scandal,” he roared.
A painful silence fell over the room, yet Simon did not take his eyes from hers.
“I am not entirely sure what will happen from here,” he said hoarsely. “But I am supposing we should run away.”
The duchess looked ready to faint, and Miranda’s mother squawked her outrage.
“We cannot,” Miranda whispered, “The scandal would be too dreadful…”
He flinched, and she wanted to scream at the pain which darkened his gaze. He lowered his hand, sketched a bow, turned and walked away.
“My very first memory was my mamma telling me how beautiful I am…and that one day I would marry a prince,” her words though softly spoken had arrested everyone’s attention, including Simon who had almost reached the door.
Miranda pushed back her chair and stood. The pain carved in his face almost made her weep. She pressed her hands into the table to prevent their visible trembling.
“If not a prince…only a duke would do. This man I was to marry would not care about my likes or dislikes, or my dreams and fears. The only thing of importance was that he would be well pleased with my beauty…and I would be contented with his perfect title, his lands, and his wealth. I asked her what if we did not like each other?" she glanced around the table, noting her mother’s growing horror, the duchess’s curious look, and her father’s narrowed eyes. The duke himself had a frown on his face as he glanced between her and Simon.
“For many years I longed for this marriage…for my prince…and I’ve found him. His name is Simon Astor. I love him with my entire heart, and he loves the woman I am, with all my willful stubbornness, odd notions, for he sees beyond my beauty. He sees me…and loves all parts of me.”
The duchess’s jaw slackened, and she sat up straighter in her chair.
Her mother gazed at her as if she was a frightful creature. "You wretched, ungrateful child," her mother sobbed.
“I will not be pressured into a marriage with a man whom I do not love.”
“The engagement has been announced!” her mother cried. “The scandal—”
"I do not care about the scandal," she said, moving from around the table and slowly walking toward Simon. "I care about the man I love, living my life with him. You tried to take my choice from me, Mamma, and without a care of my happiness. You beseech me to wed a man I have no regards for in vain, for I will not succumb to such a life. We do not need to run away, my love. I am proudly choosing to walk by your side. I am of age to consent to marry you. While my parents' acceptance would be lovely…I…we, do not need it."
He drew her into his arms and hugged her. With a choked sob she returned his fierce embrace. Acute awareness of his hands resting against her back, the far-too-intimate nature of their embrace slithered through her. Then he kissed her, deeply, uncaring their families looked on.
Distantly she heard her father comforting her weeping mother, but Miranda hardly cared.
“Marry me,” he murmured against her lips.
“Yes,” she said laughing, and raining kisses over his face.
“This behavior is totally unseemly!” her mother wailed.
“Let’s go,” Simon murmured.
And trusting him, she slipped her hand in his and walked toward their future.
The End
Reviews are Gold to Authors
Gentle Readers:
Thank you for reading Forever Yours Series Bundle 2!
I hope you enjoyed the journey to happy ever after for Pippa and Christopher, James and Verity, and Miranda and Simon. Reviews are a very important part of reaching readers, and I do hope you will consider leaving an honest review on Amazon adding to my rainbow. It does not have to be lengthy, a simple sentence or two will do. Just know that I will appreciate your efforts sincerely. You can click on this link to leave a review: Forever Yours Series Bundle 2.
The next novella in the Forever Yours series, Sophia and the Duke, is up for pre-order and releases quite soon. You can pre-order here: Sophia and the Duke.
Love,
Stacy.
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Acknowledgments
I thank God every day for my family, friends, and my writing. A special thank you to my husband. I love you so hard! Without your encouragement and steadfast support I would not be living my dream of being an author. You encourage me to dream and are always steadfast in your wonderful support. You read all my drafts, offer such amazing insight and encouragement. Thank you for designing my fabulous cover! Thank you for reminding me I am a warrior when I wanted to give up on so many things.
Thank you, Giselle Marks for being so wonderful and supportive always. You are a great critique partner and friend. Readers, thank you for giving me a chance and reading my book! I hope you enjoyed and would consider leaving a review. Thank you!
About Stacy
Stacy Reid writes sensual Historical and Paranormal Romances and is the published author of over sixteen books. Her debut novella The Duke’s Shotgun Wedding was a 2015 HOLT Award of Merit recipient in the Romance Novella category, and her bestselling Wedded by Scandal series is recommended as Top picks at Night Owl Reviews, Fresh Fiction Reviews, and The Romance Reviews.
Stacy lives a lot in the worlds she creates and actively speaks to her characters (aloud). She has a warrior way “Never give up on dreams!” When she’s not writing, Stacy spends a copious amount of time binge-watching series like The Walking Dead, Homeland, Altered Carbon, watching Japanese Anime and playing video games with her love. She also has a weakness for ice cream and will have it as her main course.
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