by Ava Stone
Something that sounded like a gasp came from the other side of the study door. Miranda, Harry would wager his fortune on it. Fortunately, Woodsworth and Giff were so focused on scowling at each other, they didn’t seem to notice the sound.
“Child?” Giff roared. “Are you telling me you got that girl with child?”
As Harry moved to stand in front of the door, on the off chance Miranda gasped again, Woodsworth folded his arms across his chest and glared at his friend. “Didn’t you listen to a word I said? There’s no proof it was mine.”
Giff dropped his glass on St. Austell’s desk and grabbed Woodsworth’s jacket with both of his hands. “I don’t even know who you are any more. Your father—”
“Is dead.” Woodsworth pushed the earl away from him. “And I don’t answer to you, Cedric Loring.” He started for the door, which Harry was still blocking.
“You’ll answer to me,” Harry growled. “What happened with Miss Birkin? And why do you think she’s in Escomb?”
An exasperated sigh escaped Woodsworth. “You want to hear it all? Very well, here it is. The girl followed me around like a lap dog most of the Season. She was a pretty little thing, and it only took a few whispered words of flattery to get her to lift her skirts.” He shook his head as though it was ridiculous he had to tell them any of this. “Then before the Season was over, she told me she was increasing and wanted to head for Gretna before her uncle found out. I told her to go on and head there then.”
Harry could hardly believe the cavalier way the man was discussing the ruination and downfall of the girl. Theresa Birkin could have been anyone, any girl who fell for the wrong man. She could have been Pippa or Miranda, clearly a girl who didn’t have anyone looking out for her. She’d been an easy target.
Fury built in Harry. His hand balled into a fist, he pulled his arm back, and then he crashed it into Woodsworth’s jaw.
The marquess’s eyes rounded in surprise as he fell backwards, crashing into one of St. Austell’s chairs before sliding to the rug at Harry’s feet. His hand rose to cup his face as he scrambled away from Harry along the floor. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Have you lost yours?” Giff countered softly, as though he still couldn’t quite believe the tale he’d just heard. “What happened to the girl, Wood? Since you clearly didn’t elope to Scotland with her?”
Woodsworth’s gaze flashed from Giff to Harry then back. “Don’t let him hit me again.”
Giff met Harry’s gaze then said, “I have a feeling if you don’t tell us what happened to her, there won’t be a thing I could say that would keep him from killing you.”
Woodsworth huffed indignantly as he pushed back to his feet. He tested his jaw with his hand and moaned. “I ought to call you out.”
“Alas, you’re a coward,” Harry ground out. “So answer the question before I decide to use you as my punch bag again.”
Giff heaved a sigh. “What happened to the girl, Wood?”
Woodsworth backed away to a far corner as though to put as much distance between himself and Harry as possible. “She said she was going to Escomb, to one of her uncle’s homes. I got word a few months ago that she lost the child, which seems rather convenient, if you ask me.”
If Giff wasn’t there, Harry might very well kill Woodsworth. Was there ever a less honorable bastard? “You haven’t seen her?” he growled.
Woodsworth shook his head. “Nor do I expect to.”
“You won’t ever tell another soul what you told us,” Giff warned. “If she can start her life over, she won’t fear you blackening her name, do you hear me?”
“She’s of no matter to me,” Woodsworth muttered.
Giff met Harry’s eyes once more. “I don’t know that this answers all of your questions, Casemore, but I do know when he’s telling the truth.”
Harry didn’t question Woodsworth’s tale, and if he had to wager a guess, he’d put money down that Miss Birkin was in County Durham, too hurt, too ashamed of herself to contact Miranda or anyone else. “Thank you for all of your assistance in this.”
Giff nodded. “I wish we’d heard a different story.”
So did Harry.
Miranda pulled Penny down the corridor back toward the ballroom. “Hurry before they catch us,” she hissed.
“Did you know that Tessie was with child?” Penny asked, her eyes sill rounded in surprise.
Miranda tugged her sister harder, nearly dragging her down the hallway. “Didn’t you hear Lord Gifford? We are never to repeat anything we just heard.” Besides, she was still so numb from hearing Lord Woodsworth’s words, she couldn’t think of what she could even say to Penny or anyone else for that matter.
“Do you think she’s in County Durham?”
Miranda didn’t know what to think. “Penny!” she begged as they stepped back into the ballroom. “Please not now.”
Finally, Penny nodded. “I just feel awful for her.”
Miranda did too. She squeezed Penny’s hand. “We’ll talk about it later, but don’t—”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Penny promised, and for once Miranda believed her sister would hold her tongue. “There’s Devlin,” she added in a whisper. “He looks in a temper.”
Miranda glanced in the direction Penny was staring to find their brother and his wife’s eyes leveled on them. “Blast,” she muttered under her breath. “Come on.” She tugged Penny toward Devlin and Louisa. “We’d better get this over with.”
As soon as they reached their brother, Devlin arched a brow at Miranda. “I don’t suppose I have to ask where you were.”
“We left for the retiring room,” Penny said cheerfully. “Did we miss something?”
Devlin turned his glare on Penny. “The retiring room?”
“Where else would we go?” Penny asked, the epitome of innocence.
Miranda cast her sister a sidelong glance. Penny was much more complex than Miranda had ever given her credit for. If they weren’t in a crowded ballroom, she’d have thrown her arms around her sister and hugged her for all she was worth.
“Marston.” Harry’s voice came from behind Miranda. Then his hand landed on her shoulder. “I shall be around first thing in the morning to meet with you.”
“London is all safe now, is it?” Devlin asked austerely.
Harry squeezed Miranda’s shoulder possessively. “It will always be safe for Miranda. I can promise you that. I’d like to steal her away again, if you don’t mind. I’d love for her to become better acquainted with my sister.”
Miranda’s stomach dropped to her toes. Lady St. Austell probably thought she was little better than a mute, considering their conversation the previous day.
“As long as you don’t leave the ballroom, I have no objections,” Devlin replied.
Harry offered Miranda his arm, which she tentatively took. “I don’t think I made the best impression when I met your sister,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot of her family.
Harry’s brow rose in question. “What do you mean?”
Miranda shrugged. “I wasn’t terribly happy with you at the time. You’d just broken my heart, and—”
“Broken your heart?” he echoed.
She was sure her face was aflame again. “After you kissed me, and—”
“Ahh,” he said, understanding reflected in his eyes. “Pippa came by right then, did she? No wonder she’s concerned.”
“She’s concerned?” Miranda squeaked.
Harry’s smile was right back in place. “Not to worry, my dear, she will love you just as I do… Well, not just as I do, but you know what I mean.”
Before Miranda could respond to that, she and Harry were at Lord and Lady St. Austell’s side. The countess’s gaze flashed from Miranda to Harry. “I haven’t seen you all night.”
“I’ve been sharing St. Austell’s whisky with Giff and Wood.” Harry replied, which earned him a scowl from his brother-in-law, though Harry didn’t seem to pay the man any attention. “Anyway,
Miranda and I have news, Pippa.”
“Oh?” The countess’s eyes drifted back to Miranda.
“Tomorrow we will be officially betrothed, but we wanted you to be the first to know.”
Lady St. Austell’s mouth fell open, then she smiled at her brother. “Congratulations, both of you.” She seemed to study both of them a moment before saying, “You do seem happy.”
“We are quite,” Miranda said.
“Never been happier,” Harry added. “So, if you’ve been worried about me, there’s no need.”
She gaped at him like a fish out of water. “I—I…”
“Just be happy for me, Pip.”
“If you’re happy, so am I,” his sister replied.
“Which is something I should have said to you long ago.” Harry smiled at her, and then met his brother-in-law’s gaze. “And you, Jason. Thank you for making Pippa so happy.”
“It’s my greatest pleasure in life,” the earl returned as the first strings of a waltz began.
Harry pulled Miranda closer to him. “I believe you promised this dance to me, my dear.”
He could have every dance for the rest of their lives. Miranda’s heart nearly overflowed when she turned to gaze up into his clear green eyes. She wasn’t sure how she’d been so fortunate to have crossed his path that fateful night in that hell, but after hearing what sort of man the Marquess of Woodsworth was from his own lips, she was so incredibly lucky to have fallen for such an honorable, decent man. “I believe I did.”
Without further ado, Harry swept Miranda out onto the floor. He bowed low before her and then drew her into his arms, his devoted gaze never leaving hers. “What am I going to do with you, Miranda?”
“Kiss me?” she suggested.
“You think to distract me with your kisses?” A rakish grin settled on his lips. “How resourceful. That might just work.”
He led her into the first turn, his hand splayed across her back, drawing her even closer to him, making tingles race across her skin. “I love you, Harrison Casemore.”
His grin widened. “Because I’d battle mythical creatures for you?”
Miranda shook her head. “Because of who you are.”
“Good answer.” They turned again. “I still ought to toss you over my knee for eavesdropping on my inquisition, however.”
Miranda’s mouth fell open. How in the world did he know she’d eavesdropped?
“You gasped,” he answered her unasked question. “Fortunately neither of the other gentlemen heard you.
But she hadn’t gasped aloud. “That was Penny,” she whispered. Even still, she couldn’t be upset with Penny. What they’d heard had been shocking, but when given the chance, her sister hadn’t betrayed her to Devlin.
“Oh, wonderful,” Harry replied with a sigh. “Miss Penelope heard all of that too, did she?”
None of that was neither here nor there at the moment. “Poor Tessie. She must have been too mortified to tell me what had happened.”
“Indeed,” Harry agreed. “Falling in love with a scoundrel is a dangerous thing to do.”
“Indeed.” Miranda grinned up at him. “Falling in love with a demigod is definitely a much better plan.”
USA Today Bestselling Author, Ava Stone first fell in love with Mr. Darcy, Jane Austen and Regency England at the age of twelve. And in the years since, that love has never diminished. If she isn't writing Regency Era romance, she can be found reading it.
Her bestselling Scandalous Series is filled with witty humor and centers around the friends and family of the Machiavellian-like Lady Staveley, exploring deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits.
Ava can be found at www.avastoneauthor.com and at Lady Jane's Salon Raleigh-Durham, where she is one of the salon's directors. You can also find her at Facebook and on Twitter.
The SCANDALOUS world continues in…
A Scandalous Wife
A Scandalous Charade
A Scandalous Secret
A Scandalous Pursuit
A Scandalous Past
My Favorite Major
The English Lieutenant’s Lady
To Catch a Captain
An Encounter With an Adventurer
In the Stars
Promises Made (Encounter With Hyde Park)
A Scandalous Deception
And the Regency Seasons Novellas…
A Counterfeit Christmas Summons
By Any Other Name
My Lord Hercules
A Bit of Mistletoe
The Lady Vanishes (One Haunted Evening)
