Once More, Miranda

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Once More, Miranda Page 67

by Jennifer Wilde


  “It’s all very well for you to smile!” he snapped. “You’re not the one in a trap!”

  “She loves you, Douglas.”

  He gave me a doubtful look. “You really think so?”

  “You’re extremely lovable, you silly ass. Of course she loves you, and you love her.”

  He thought about that for a moment, and then he nodded. “I—I guess maybe I do,” he said. “I haven’t been able to think straight ever since that day she first came to visit in her bloody cart, so cool and snippy and self-possessed. I wanted to put her in her place. I wanted to—”

  He cut himself short, and a mild pink blush actually suffused his cheeks. I had a rather good idea how he would have ended the sentence. He emitted a heavy sigh and tugged at his neckcloth, getting accustomed to the feelings he had felt all along and refused to acknowledge.

  “I’m very happy for you, Douglas. Happy for you both.”

  “It’s just the shock of it all. I mean—I never figured to marry her!”

  “Men rarely do.”

  “I—I know this is going to sound idiotic,” he said, “but I just couldn’t see living the rest of my life without her. Nothing would have any real meaning if Linda weren’t there to share it with me.”

  “It doesn’t sound idiotic at all,” I told him. “It—it makes perfect sense. Perfect sense,” I repeated.

  And the numbness wore away and the sadness disappeared and a glorious elation began to stir inside, growing by the moment, sparkling and spreading until I wanted to shout with joy. What a fool I had been! What a bloody fool! My mother had not been given a second chance, but I had … and I had almost thrown it away! I knew exactly what Douglas meant. I couldn’t see living the rest of my life without Cam Gordon—bloody, infuriating Scot that he was—and nothing would have any real meaning without him. Damn his eyes! I loved the son of a bitch and life would be tumultuous and I would live on my nerves but at least I would be alive. The elation continued to sparkle and spread, that vibrant, vital, magnificent life force coursing through my veins like the finest of wine. My brother gave me a puzzled look. I smiled at him. He frowned.

  “Is something wrong, Miranda?”

  “No—no, everything’s right. Everything’s wonderfully right! I almost—I was a bleedin’ ninny, so smart, so sensible, so soddin’ sensible—”

  Douglas was genuinely concerned now. He took hold of my arm, looking at me with alarmed gray eyes.

  “I think maybe we’d better go inside.”

  “Yes!” I said. “There’s not a moment to lose.”

  “You’re not upset about Linda, are you? It’s true she’ll be the lady of the house, but—she won’t be supplanting you. There’ll always be a place for you at Mowrey House, Miranda. Linda likes you and you like her and—”

  I smiled and shook my head, impatient now, eager to be gone. There was packing to do and I would have to stop off in London for a day to see Marcie and Thomas and make business arrangements with Bancroft, but if I left tomorrow morning I would have ample time for that. Douglas was still chattering away, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. I knew who I was now, at last I knew. I was Cam Gordon’s woman, that was my true identity, and he was my man and life with him would rarely be serene but the bastard would get as good as he gave, I’d see to that.

  “—no reason at all why we can’t all live happily and comfortably together. Linda wants six weeks to make all the preparations, she insists on having a gigantic wedding with all the trimmings and she has to get a trousseau together—women are always thinking about clothes! You’ll be the maid of honor, of course, Linda has already mentioned it to me, and—”

  “I won’t be here, Douglas.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “I’m leaving Mowrey House. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. My work here is done, Douglas. Now that you have Linda there’s nothing—there’s nothing to keep me. I’m thrilled for both of you, believe me. Linda’s exactly what you need, and she’ll be the perfect mistress of Mowrey House, something I could never be. I have my own life to—”

  “Have you lost your senses!”

  “Not at all. I’ve come to them at last. I really can’t dally out here any longer, Douglas. I have to start packing and—”

  “It’s that bloody Scot, isn’t it?”

  I nodded and started moving rapidly up the path to Mowrey House. My brother trotted along beside me, seizing my arm, forcing me to stop alongside the rhododendrons. I gave him an impatient look, hardly noticing him, my mind on other things now. His fingers clasped my arm in a bruising grip, restraining me when I tried to move on.

  “Don’t think I don’t know he was here the other night. I’m not nearly as naive as you think I am, sister dear. Soldiers all over the place, my best suit of clothes missing, Ned gone all day—I can put two and two together. I didn’t say anything because I thought the least said the better, but if you think I’m going to let you run off and wreck your life over a—”

  “I love him, Douglas. He loves me. He wanted me to go with him, but I sent him away—like an idiot I sent him away—”

  “Goddamn, Miranda, the chap’s a bloody—”

  “He’s going to America. His ship, sails from Cherbourg in eleven days. I’ve got to spend a day in London, there’s business to take care of, and—”

  “You’re going to America with him!”

  “You can’t stop me, Douglas.”

  “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’ve never been surer about anything.”

  “All right, then, but I’m not going to let you go tearing off by yourself. I intend to go to London with you and then on to Cherbourg. I intend to meet this man and let him know he’ll have me to contend with if—”

  He let go of my arm. I hurried on up the path, knocking against the rhododendrons, scattering blossoms in my wake. Douglas scurried after me, trotting to catch up.

  “And I’ll tell you another thing!” he shouted. “You may not be here for my wedding but I’m bloody well going to be there for yours! If that bastard thinks he’s going to sweep you off to America without marrying you first, he’s in for a big surprise! I’ll use a gun if I have to, but—”

  I wasn’t listening to him. I was listening to the music inside me, a joyous music that filled my soul with splendor. Skirts flying behind me, my hair flying too, I raced toward the house with my brother in hot pursuit, still shouting at me as I hurried up the steps and into the arms of the future.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1983 by Tom Huff

  Cover design by Julianna Lee

  ISBN: 978-1-4976-9821-5

  This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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