‘I hope you don’t think that they are stifling you with their concerns for your wellbeing, Miranda. It is kindly and generously meant.’
That’s exactly what I think. ‘I am merely making a point. There’s one of me and four of you. The balance isn’t right.’
‘We are all very fond of you, my dear, as well you know. You do not find our society tiresome, I hope.’
‘It is you who brought up the subject of our return from France. Again.’
‘Quite. Well, it doesn’t matter. We are here now. The boys will know when the right opportunities arise.’
And in the meantime, you will all live here at my expense. ‘That would be it, I expect,’ Miranda said, not wishing to quarrel with Christina. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get myself ready, as do you. It wouldn’t do to be late.’
‘Well, well.’ Matthew Cooper, the elder of Philip’s two brothers, stood up as Miranda entered the drawing room, clad in her lovely silk gown. ‘The child becomes a woman.’
‘Oh, stop it!’ Matthew’s clumsy compliments had no place in their relationship. He had always treated her like a tiresome little sister and she had no desire for that situation to change. Even so, the manner in which his gaze rested upon her with speculative interest sparked fears she would prefer not to confront. ‘I have no interest in your opinion, so stop being so annoying.’
Matthew chuckled and helped himself to a drink—whisky most likely—from a decanter on the sideboard. A handsome yet indolent young man who turned heads wherever he went, Miranda was starting to tire of his company.
‘You should learn to accept a compliment, little sister.’
‘I am not your sister, or indeed any relation at all, Matthew.’
‘Quarrelling again, you two?’ Christina sailed into the room. She had criticised Miranda’s desire to make the best of herself but had not followed her own advice. She wore an elaborate gown that Miranda hadn’t seen before, but had probably paid for.
‘Not at all,’ Miranda replied. ‘Simply pointing out that Matthew can sometimes be as irritating as he is ungallant.’
‘You wouldn’t have me any other way.’
Miranda fixed him with an indifferent look. ‘I wouldn’t have you any way at all.’
‘Ouch! Well, I suppose we had best get this over with,’ Matthew said, draining his glass and yawning.
‘If it’s such an almighty effort, Matthew, I would be happy to offer your apologies to Emma. Rest assured you will not be missed.’
‘Ouch!’ Matthew said for a second time. ‘You are in a contrary mood this evening. Anyway, we’d best attend. You want to go, that much is obvious by the speed with which you insisted upon leaving Paris. For my part, I’m curious to meet this earl and his family whom everyone hereabouts appears to look up to. I myself am predisposed not to approve of him since he cut my brother when he married your mother.’
‘Christina is not my mother,’ Miranda reminded him, an edge to her voice. ‘And I would advise against showing any disapproval in the earl’s presence. He is the largest employer in the district, and since Christina tells me that you and Theo are looking for opportunities to enhance your prospects, you could do worse than make a good impression upon our neighbour.’
‘We are?’ Matthew shot Christina a disbelieving look.
‘You cannot live here forever, Matthew. Nor, I suspect, would you want to,’ Miranda said, voicing concerns that had been growing for a while. ‘Men have their pride, after all.’
‘Don’t be silly, Miranda.’ Christina patted her shoulder. ‘We are your only family now and are all concerned for your wellbeing. Especially Matthew.’ She sent that gentleman a warning look. ‘You are an heiress and will be subjected to unwanted attentions by all manner of men keen to get their hands on your fortune. Happily, I am your guardian and can steer you clear of the undesirables.’
‘What a comforting thought,’ Miranda said drolly.
‘There’s something different about you since we returned, Miranda,’ Matthew said, watching her closely. ‘You never used to be such a miserly shrew.’
‘How charming.’ Miranda inverted her chin and swept from the room in front of Matthew when a footman told them that the carriage was at the door. She heard Christina taking Matthew to task in an undertone but didn’t bother to eavesdrop.
She sat beside Christina, barely sparing a glance for the three handsome and conceited Cooper men ranged across from her. Instead, she felt nerves gathering as they neared their destination. Her dearest friend Emma had been in love with Mr Watson since the girls turned thirteen. She had spent hours lamenting to Miranda that he barely spared her a glance. Miranda did not return the favour by telling Emma that her affections had been similarly engaged, not by the rugged and self-assured earl, who frightened her a little, but by his charming and easy-going brother, Charlie.
Emma had told her that all her brothers were currently at home, but she hadn’t dared to enquire after Charlie’s personal circumstances for fear of jinxing her aspirations. If any of them had married whilst she had been away, presumably Emma would have mentioned the fact. Well, she would know soon enough. Charlie would see her all grown up in her lovely gown and she would be able to tell if he liked what he saw. She had been the object of more than one man’s attention during their time in Paris and, despite what Christina had implied, she sensed that those attentions had not all been for pecuniary reasons.
If Charlie expressed no particular interest in her, Miranda vowed that she would put him from her mind and wait until a more attentive gentleman caught her eye. She too had her pride.
‘Here we are,’ Philip said unnecessarily when the carriage rattled to a halt at the steps leading to Beranger Court’s entrance portico.
‘Quite a place,’ Matthew said, letting out a low whistle.
‘Does your Emma have any sisters?’ Theo asked.
Miranda shook her head and ignored the pair of them. If Theo did attempt to attract Mary’s interest, Miranda vowed to warn her off. It would be easy for a young woman who didn’t know any better to fall for the Coopers, Miranda conceded, but there were definitely no hidden depths to any of them. Theo was arguably the best of the bunch, but that wasn’t saying a great deal.
They were shown into the house by the butler and servants emerged to take their outdoor things. Emma, on Mr Watson’s arm, greeted Miranda with warm affection.
‘Many congratulations to you both,’ Miranda said with a huge smile. ‘I hope you will be very happy.’
‘I had better be!’ Emma said, making everyone laugh.
She introduced the rest of her family, took a deep breath and walked into the drawing room, as ready as she would ever be to catch her first proper glimpse for over two years of Charlie Beranger.
*
Matthew turned on the charm as he was introduced to the Beranger clan, wondering how to exploit the connection to his best advantage, but knowing better than to attempt it so soon. The trimming that his brother had dealt him in private before they left Ashton Lodge still rang in his ears. He was to make himself agreeable to Miranda and persuade her to marry him. That had been the plan all along, but he had been biding his time. Matthew didn’t doubt his ability to win the timid shrew’s affections. He never failed to impress any lady he favoured with his attentions. He had tried to point out to Philip that Miranda was still a child. There was no hurry. She’d garnered a little attention for fortune-seekers abroad, he’d be willing to concede as much, but they had been easily scared away.
Seeing her tonight in that fashionable gown that clung to enticing curves, a newfound light of awareness in her eyes, he’d been forced to concede that at eighteen she was no longer a child. Worse, she was back on home soil, despite their combined efforts to persuade her not to return to England quite yet. She had a surprisingly strong will, Matthew had discovered, and it would be a mistake to underestimate her in the future.
She depended upon him, he reminded himself, running to him all the tim
e when she had a problem and accepting his word as gospel. It occurred to him that she hadn’t done that for some time now, and had become increasingly withdrawn from them all. He hadn’t noticed before. Damn the Beranger girl for marrying now, of all times! And damn Miranda for daring to suggest that he should not live beneath her roof indefinitely. Who the devil did she think she was? Gentlemen of his sophistication didn’t get their hands dirty with actual work, and she ought to grateful that he condescended to bestow his presence upon her hovel of a home.
In contrast, Beranger Hall was much more to his liking. He glanced around the elegantly proportioned drawing room and smiled. This was the type of place where he belonged. Emma Beranger did have a sister. Matthew had just been introduced to her and she’d blushed to the roots of her hair when he smiled at her. She might suit him better than Miranda, who was starting to get ideas above her station. She had attempted to assert her authority by laying down the law earlier, reminding him who controlled the purse strings. Be that as it may, he owed Philip everything. Unlike Miranda, he understood the meaning of family loyalty and so would do as his brother asked.
His glanced wandered to the dowager countess, an eccentric old bird flamboyantly garbed in colours that hurt his eyes, topped off with a crimson turban complete with ostrich plume. She looked ridiculous. The earl must be eaten up with embarrassment, which made Matthew wonder why he allowed his grandmother to appear in front of his guests looking like a circus clown. So this was the best family in the district—the one that everyone looked up to. Matthew shuddered, longing for the bustle, pleasures and distractions that awaited him in London. But funds were tight, and he couldn’t set foot in the capital until he’d secured his future.
The creature at the dowager’s side looked up and smiled at something that had been said to her. Now she did hold his interest. A companion of some sort, he’d been told. A waterfall of copper curls fell from a sparkling clip in her hair. The creamy skin of her bare shoulders glowed in the candlelight and drew his attention to her décolletage. Not classically beautiful, she was saved from being plain by violet eyes that dominated an otherwise unremarkable face. She might make a pleasant diversion, Matthew thought, strolling towards her and the countess, ready to make an impression.
‘Which one are you?’ The countess broke off her conversation with one of the mousy Stanton girls and peered suspiciously up at Matthew through an old-fashioned lorgnette with an ebony handle.
Matthew inclined his head to the old lady but flashed one of his winning smiles to the companion. To his astonishment, the companion—Miss Latimer, he thought he’d heard her addressed as—appeared to freeze and then tremble, as though a ghost had walked over her grave. She did not return his smile, which only served to increase Matthew’s mild interest in her. No female, especially one as unremarkable as this creature, ever resisted him when he chose to make himself agreeable. Miss Latimer must either be a poor relation or paid companion, in no position to adopt the moral high ground if he favoured her with his attention. There again, Matthew was bored. There was something about Miss Latimer that he found inexplicably challenging, and he felt inappropriate stirrings in his groin as he contemplated taming her.
‘I am Matthew Cooper, at your service, ma’am,’ he said suavely. ‘It is a very great pleasure to make your acquaintance.’
‘I dare say it is.’ The countess sent him an assessing look that made it clear she didn’t much like what she saw. ‘You are one of the leeches living off Miranda’s inheritance, I hear.’
The wretched woman spoke loudly enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room, causing a hiatus in conversations as all heads turned in their direction. Matthew felt uncomfortable and disadvantaged. They were sensations he was unaccustomed to and did not appreciate experiencing.
‘Hardly that, ma’am,’ he replied in a tone of casual dismissal, assuming that would be the end of the matter.
‘Really. Have I got it wrong?’ The old hag fixed him with a frosty look. ‘You are a man of independent means?’
Matthew was saved from the inconvenience of formulating a polite reply when the dowager’s attention was distracted by one of her grandsons.
‘Is she always so forthright?’ Matthew asked, taking the opportunity to stand closer to Miss Latimer, attempting to appear amused rather than infuriated by the old lady’s outspokenness.
‘I rather think she has earned the right.’
‘Speaking for myself, I find eccentricities a delightful departure to the norm. I hope her ladyship doesn’t cause you any embarrassment.’
‘Me?’ She blinked her lovely violet eyes up at him in mild surprise. They really were a most unusual hue—captivating, one might have said. ‘Lady Swindon has never embarrassed me, sir.’
‘You have been with her for a long time, I dare say, and have become accustomed to her ways.’
‘I have had the privilege of holding this position for a month.’
‘A month? You are a stranger to the area then. You must allow me to call upon you and show you around.’
She sent him a suspicious look. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ He laughed, feeling awkward in a situation that he ought to be dominating. ‘I should have thought that would have been obvious.’
‘If it was, I wouldn’t have asked.’
‘The countess’s outspokenness has rubbed off on you,’ he said, chuckling.
‘Thank you.’ She beamed at him. ‘That is the nicest compliment I have been paid in a very long time.’
In which case, Matthew was tempted to say that she should definitely allow him to call upon her. Before he could do so, she sent him an impatient look, begged to be excused and walked away.
I’ll be damned. He watched the gentle sway of her hips as she moved across the room and addressed an aside to the earl. Matthew scowled. He’d noticed the earl observing him in conversation with Miss Latimer and wondered now if he had a prior claim to the enigmatic creature’s affections. Damn it, that simply wouldn’t do, even though he could see that the arrangement would suit the earl perfectly well. There again, he’d heard that he kept a whore in Swindon. Surely he didn’t have the energy to satisfy them both. If he did, it was all to the good. It would mean that Miss Latimer had already been compromised, and would be in no position to cry wolf if he persuaded her into further indiscretion. He sipped at his drink and contemplated his plan. After all, a man had to have some sport.
‘Got your eye on the little companion, I see,’ his brother Theo said as he sidled up to him. ‘Can’t say as I blame you. She’s a prime piece.’
‘She certainly has possibilities.’
‘Don’t forget that you’re supposed to be dancing attendance upon Miranda.’
‘Damn, I had forgotten.’ He was so accustomed to treating Miranda as an annoying younger sister that his real purpose had slipped his mind. He glanced across the room and saw her in conversation with her friend Emma and one of Emma’s brothers. The brother said something that caused Miranda to throw her head back and laugh.
‘Looks like you have competition. Not that you have any genuine interest in Miranda—and like I’ve told you before, I don’t approve of your pursuing her simply for her money. She deserves…well, something better.’
‘If I don’t protect her then the fortune hunters will gather.’
Theo sent Matthew a jaundiced look. ‘Yourself included.’
Matthew gave a negligent shrug. ‘All very well for you to preach, but you’ve been living off her these past few years, too.’
‘Unlike you, I intend to plough my own furrow in the fullness of time.’
‘How very noble-minded of you, little brother.’
‘Well anyway, all the Beranger sons have independent means, so they are not fortune hunters, and what’s more they come from a much better family than ours. Miranda seems to like Charlie Beranger. I’d say, given the way he looks at her, that her feelings are reciprocated. No wonder she was so eager to come home.’
�
��I am not deterred by a little competition,’ Matthew replied, yawning behind his hand, worried that he might have left it too late. Not that he’d ever make that admission to his annoyingly judgemental brother.
‘Philip keeps glaring at you, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Philip glares at everyone, especially here, tonight. You know he didn’t want to come, and you know why.’ Matthew paused, his gaze focused upon Miranda. ‘She has grown up without my realising it,’ he remarked. ‘I suppose I had better show willing, unless you would prefer to do the honours. It really doesn’t matter which of us wins the silly girl’s heart.’
Theo looked offended. ‘I will not pursue her for the sake of financial expediency.’
Perhaps not, Matthew conceded. His brother had principles, after a fashion. All very well, but he had been willing enough to live off Miranda’s largesse. If his rather vague plans to find an occupation didn’t bear fruit, he would undoubtedly continue to do so, but only if Matthew could win Miranda’s heart. It was his job to secure the future of their entire family, yet here was Theo standing in judgement.
‘People in glass houses, Theo,’ Matthew said indolently.
He put aside his empty glass and straightened his lapels, ready to charm Miranda. But before he could reach her side, dinner was announced. He watched, cursing beneath his breath, as Charlie Beranger smiled at Miranda and offered her his arm. She returned his smile and placed her delicate hand on his sleeve. No matter. Matthew’s thoughts were filled with images of little Miss Latimer, whose company he would much prefer. To his annoyance, Sam Beranger offered one of his arms to his grandmother and the other to Miss Latimer. Both ladies accepted his escort and Matthew watched their retreating forms and they joined the procession making its way into the dining room.
Now thoroughly out of sorts, Matthew summoned up a smile for one of the characterless Stanton girls and joined the back of the line. By the time they reached the table, most of the places had already been taken up. Miss Latimer was seated at its foot, beside the dowager countess. Miranda was close to the earl’s position at its head and Matthew found himself as far away from both ladies as it was possible for him to be. With thoughts of a boring few hours in prospect he sighed, reached for his wine glass and took a healthy swig.
A Sense of Purpose Page 7
