***
“Auntie, Mr. Spencer will be calling on me soon to take me for a ride in the park. At my age, I do not think I need a chaperone. Besides, if I am to find a rich husband soon, I must have time alone with him to...ah...”
“To seduce him, my dear,” Aunt Violet said with a twinkle in her eye as they shared tea in the drawing room of the modest townhouse they had rented in London, just on the outer fringes of Mayfair.
“Don’t look shocked. I’ve been married three times and widowed twice. Seduction is nothing new to me. In fact, if I could find a gentleman my age looking for a companion, I’d be more than willing to comply. Nights are cold, lonely and long. I am not so very old you know.”
“Auntie.” Miranda laughed. She was used to her aunt’s frank speaking. Perhaps that’s where she got that most annoying trait from. Speaking her mind had only gotten worse the older she became. That and people were more relaxed in the countryside. She would do well to remember she was in London now, where social etiquette meant everything.
“I do not plan to seduce Mr. Spencer.” She frowned, not at all confident she could put aside her fears and seduce anyone. “More likely he will try to seduce me if my memory serves correctly.” Her skin tingled at the idea of Spencer seducing her. Quick as the thought and feelings burst upon her, they left, leaving her chilled and weary. Could she even allow herself to be seduced? Touched intimately after what happened to her? Only time would tell, she supposed.
“Would that be so terribly bad, dear, if he seduced you? God did not intend women to be without men.”
“Auntie?” She shook her head.
“Well, he didn’t. Take Adam and Eve.”
“Enough.” She held up her hand. “I understand. But really, Spencer is different. He would see right through my deception. The thing for me to do is be honest, up front. Tell him I need to marry him for his money. Without him and his money, you and I will have to live in the rookeries of St. Giles.”
“Hardly, my dear. We would never survive there. Please take my advice and seduce him first. Honesty later. It worked for me three times. Good outcomes twice, although they died. The third, well, we know what happened with him. He’ll find himself in hell eventually for what he did to you. Meanwhile, you must think of yourself. I know it sounds selfish, and you are nothing but selfless. It goes against all your beliefs to use Mr. Spencer like you must. But in the end, I believe all will be forgiven. I saw the way he looked at you last evening. Any attendees, who bothered to look at him, really study him, would’ve seen a man with love shining in his eyes.” Aunt Violet paused and took a sip of tea, then continued. “You are actually doing him a favor by marrying him and giving him heirs.”
“I mean no disrespect, Auntie, but how is tricking him into marrying me doing him a favor?”
“Enough of this nonsense. Go make yourself presentable because your young man will be here soon, and you need to be at your most beautiful.”
Didn’t her aunt always tell her she was beautiful? Why then did she need to be more beautiful? Very well, she would try her best to sweep Spencer off his feet and get him to mutter three little words. “Will you marry me?” Her mistake, four words. Miranda dressed in a deep green riding outfit that brought out the color of her eyes and complimented her hair which was more blonde than strawberry-blonde these days. Something she didn’t mind at all. She donned a matching bonnet, pelisse and puff to ward off the late day chill. Black, half-kid boots graced her small feet. She paced back and forth in the drawing room, wringing her hands together until they cramped. Would Spencer think it odd she would receive him alone. And where was her aunt? She could use her support right about now.
“A Mr. Stuart Spencer,” announced the butler and she turned and all breath vacated her lungs at the sight of him in splendid buff breeches, brown claw-hammer coat, and matching hat. Along with his cream colored shirt and cravat, polished brown Hessian’s completed his outfit. She couldn’t ever remember witnessing a finer looking gentleman.
“My dear. Lady Miranda,” he said as he strolled toward her, never taking his eyes off hers. Eyes intense and intruding. He turned out a perfectly elegant bow. “Shall we go riding?”
She placed her hand into his gloved one and let him escort her out the door, down the stairs, and to the side of his high perch phaeton.
“I hope you don’t mind riding in the open. It is a rare sunny day and nothing feels better than warm sunshine while riding.”
At her first look at the coach she cringed. It was high off the ground, and she’d heard all sorts of things about how unsafe this new mode of carriage was. Regardless of the warnings, she also heard it was all the rage. Spencer helped her up the stairs. Once she was settled he removed them, joined her, and took the reins to the matching set.
They entered through the gates of Hyde Park and joined the other carriages and people on horseback parading to be seen on Rotten Row.
“Slow going today. I think the whole of Society had the same idea. Not that I’m complaining. I get to be with the most beautiful lady in all of London Town.” He took his eyes off the path and leisurely looked her up and down with an intensity that caused her cheeks to burn.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Spencer.” She tried to heed her aunt’s words about seducing first, honesty later, but that wasn’t who she was. Dishonesty wasn’t in her nature, at least not when it came to Spencer. She only hoped she didn’t live to regret ignoring her aunt’s advice. To calm her nerves and give her courage to ask what she must, she inhaled, exhaled and focused on the carriage and its occupants in front of them. “May I ask you a serious question?” She had to explain her situation now before she lost her nerve.
“By all means.”
“I find myself in a rather delicate situation. My aunt’s latest husband ran away to America and took all the money and sold the house out from under her. We are broke. Will be tossed out on the streets at month’s end.” This was harder than she thought. She felt like a beggar in the streets with her hand out looking for a shilling or whatever she could get.
“Go on, now that you have piqued my interest.” Damn him, but he did look most interested.
She looked away for courage. Because if she looked at him she would falter and not utter another word about her situation. “Fine. I will just say it. I need a husband. A rich husband.” After the words came out she gulped for air, not realizing she’d been forgetting to breathe.
“Yes.”
“Yes? Yes to what?” Her gaze moved to Spencer who looked straight ahead, although he appeared to be smiling. The man was insufferable. He was enjoying himself at her expense.
“I will marry you. Isn’t that what this conversation is about? You are asking me to marry you so you and your aunt will have some place to live...and money?”
“Well,” she sighed, “put that way it sounds rather like we are using you.”
“Are you not?”
“Actually, it goes both ways. I use you for your money and you get your heirs.” Fear curled around her heart at the thought of giving him heirs. Perhaps he didn’t want a real marriage, and she would not be subjected to perform her wifely duties.
He became very still and quiet, making her even more nervous.
“Heirs?” He choked out sounding rather shocked.
Oh my, was the thought of making heirs with her appalling to him? Sheer force of will had her speaking. “You do want an heir, do you not?”
“I had resigned myself to never marrying and having one. I had come to terms with it. But if you’re willing to give me heirs, who am I to refuse such a generous offer. Although,” he paused, “and please forgive my ignorance and bluntness, but aren’t you a bit old for producing heirs?”
His hurtful words struck her mute and had tears pooling in her eyes until she looked at his amused face. Was he making fun of her? Fun of her dire situation? Before she could say anything, he turned off the heavily traveled path, down a deserted one, and pulled the coach off to t
he side. He turned in his seat, looking grim. Perhaps he hadn’t been making fun of her. Perhaps in the beginning he had, towards the end he became strangely subdued.
“Miranda.” He transferred the reins to one hand and gently placed his hand on her cheek, his eyes soft. “When I first saw you the other night, I couldn’t for the life of me understand what brought you to London after so many years. Now it makes perfect sense. Also, why you chose Wentworth’s. You did your homework and you knew I would be in attendance. Since when did you become such a calculating person? I don’t know if I should be proud of you or horrified. But I do know this.” He glanced right and left then leaned toward her. “You will propose marriage to no other. I will marry you this Saturday. I will send word to the Archbishop of Canterbury and procure the special license we need.”
Once again, she forgot to breathe as his lips lightly caressed hers. When he pulled back and grinned wide, she wanted to curl her fingers into his lapels and drag him back for a real kiss. A kiss like the one he gave her when she was seventeen and naïve to the world. Before her tender, young heart had been broken.
Before she knew what he was about, he had the carriage moving and they were at her rented accommodations minutes later. He escorted her to the door and bowed. “I will send word as to the arrangements.”
He left her standing on the landing as the butler opened the door. What did he expect her to do? Wait to hear from him. Sit and drive herself mad with wondering what he was thinking? What he was planning? She had waited once before and it hadn’t turned out so well.
She stomped, most unladylike, into the house and entered the drawing room where she found Aunt Violet having tea. After sinking into a chair she muttered, “Such an infuriating man.”
“He turned you down?” Auntie said with a frown.
“No. He accepted.” When he arrived to take her to Hyde Park she had planned to do as her aunt suggested and flirt and bat her lashes at Spencer. Who, no doubt, would have been suspicious right away. Because, never had she ever, batted her lashes before. It was downright silly in her opinion. A gentleman either favored you or he didn’t. Making a fool of oneself would not change his mind. Anyhow, when she left with him she didn’t expect to return betrothed. Even if she had been the one to ask. Actually, she never did ask. She had implied she needed to marry and he, if her memory served her said, “I will marry you.” How had that happened? Had he somehow known before today that she needed to marry and planned on making it happen? How could he? The only ones who knew were her aunt and herself. And now she could not ask him because he said he would send word with the arrangements. Not only was he infuriating, he was insufferable as well. And overconfident and...so many more things she could hardly think of them without wanting to scream.
“Relax, I’ll pour you some tea, it never fails to help settle one’s nerves.” Her aunt’s frown transformed into a wide smile.
“He said he would send word when all the arrangements are made. Obviously, he thinks I will wait and wait just like last time when he never came.” Closing her eyes she fought the tears which insisted on making an appearance. After all these years one would think she had gotten over her heart being broken. Obviously not. And she’d known that the moment she had set eyes on him at the Wentworth’s ball.
“My dear,” her aunt began. “History will not repeat itself. He would not have said he would marry you if he didn’t mean it.”
“How do you know,” she asked around a hiccup.
“Just a feeling. Now I think the lovely ice blue gown will make a beautiful wedding dress.”
“It’s what I had in mind when I picked it out. But what am I supposed to do on my wedding night?”
“Whatever your new husband wants.”
“Whatever he wants? What if I can’t bring myself to...” her cheeks warmed and she touched them with the tips of her fingers. “What if I can’t? What if the next morning he decides he made a mistake and has the marriage annulled? I’ll never be able to show my face in London again. More importantly, we will have no money and no place to live. Oh my God,” she cried. “This is too much. No, no, no, I can do it. I must do this.”
“My dear, I have all the faith in the world all will be well. Trust me on this?”
Trust her? Could she?
Chapter Seven
“I’m getting married on Saturday,” Spencer said as he walked into the drawing room of his townhouse to find his mother, grandmother, and two sisters, Elizabeth and Mary, all staring with their mouths open over their tea cups.
“Yes. You heard me correctly. I have asked Miranda to be my wife, and we want to be married immediately. The only problem is where to hold the service.”
“St. James Duke’s Place is well known for marriages and is such a lovely church. Have the service there and the wedding breakfast here,” his grandmother said with an elated smile. “I must say it is about time you grew up and married and put down roots.”
Spencer couldn’t come up with a suitable thing to say to his family. He bid them farewell, walked the half-a-mile to his cousin’s townhouse where he found William and Amelia hosting Bella and Myles for tea.
“I have news,” he said breathlessly from his hasty walk. “Miranda and I are getting married this Saturday.”
As with his family, four sets of eyes looked incredulously at him.
“Congratulations.” Bella stood and gave him a hug. “I am so very happy for you. I like her. She has personality and you will not get bored with her.”
“Congratulations,” Amelia said. “This is great news, is it not William?”
“Yes. It is the very best.”
“If you ladies will excuse us gentlemen, I would like a word in private with William and Myles.”
Once the three men were behind closed doors in William’s study, each holding a glass of brandy, Spencer spilled his guts.
“She asked me to marry her because she and her aunt are broke. Well, truthfully, she never asked. She stated that she needed to marry someone wealthy, and I told her I would marry her. Spencer broke out laughing. “I can’t believe my luck? I’m finally going to marry the woman I should’ve married twelve years ago.”
“No wonder she came to town. She planned this. Why the conniving little...”
“Easy cousin that is my betrothed you are insulting. I don’t care if she is using me or not. In time, she will come to love me again. I know it. And if she doesn’t...well...it won’t be the first marriage to go loveless.”
“What is your opinion, Myles?” Spencer asked, wanting an opinion besides his biased cousin’s.
“Me.” Myles downed his glass, and Spencer knew he was trying not to laugh. “I think you are a lucky man. Lady Miranda is beautiful. A little long in the tooth, but not that long.”
“Exactly what I think. Twenty-nine is still young enough to bare children. Why my mother had Mary when she was thirty-two. Clear your calendars for Saturday as you all have a wedding to attend.”
***
The morning of her wedding found Miranda’s entire being vibrating with nerves. And if she was truthful with herself, not just with anxiety, but excitement as well. She would finally marry the man she fell in love with at seventeen. The man who shattered her heart and dreams and propelled her to live as a spinster.
All was forgiven. Her shattered heart and dreams were whole. All that mattered from this day forth was the future. The past would stay in the past. She’d spent years loathing Spencer and loathing herself. No longer.
Her chance at happiness was within reach. Spencer was within her grasp. In one-hour she would be married...to him.
Her hand flew to her stomach as an extended family of butterflies took flight.
“Oh my dear,” Aunt Violet exclaimed as she entered her chamber. “You look positively divine. Claudia outdid herself with your coiffure. And the dress shows off your figure perfectly. Clingy in all the right places. Spencer will be struck mute when he sees you walking down the aisle.”
�
��Thank you.” She spun around and looked once more in the mirror, her reflection making her feel like a fairy princess on her way to marry her prince.
She descended the stairs on her aunt’s arm, entered the carriage Spencer provided for them, and arrived at the small, intimate church. Bridgeton, looking dashing in formal wear greeted them. “May I escort both you lovely ladies down the aisle? Spencer thought you would enjoy the escort.”
“Thank you.” And she was thankful as she had wondered when they pulled up to the church how she would ever manage walking in her bundle of nerves state. So now, Miranda found herself between Bridgeton and Aunt Violet and walking, oh-so-slowly down the aisle toward Spencer who took her breath away, made her knees wobble and her hands vibrate with the urge to hold him close to her heart.
He looked handsome dressed completely in white. The contrast between his dark hair and light clothing was startling. Never had she seen a gentleman look as handsome as he. Since her eyes were riveted on her husband-to-be the entire time, she was shocked when she reached his side and they faced the vicar together.
As the vicar spoke and she recited her marriage vows in a soft voice, she gleamed at Spencer. It was foolish of her to let him see the love she had for him shining in her eyes, but it couldn’t be helped. Over the course of her entire life, she had struggled to keep her emotions from showing. This, being the happiest day of her life, was not the time to squash her feelings. She did not know if Spencer still loved her, but she would persevere regardless. She would love him enough for both of them.
When they were pronounced man and wife, her eyes widened at the lovely emerald and diamond ring gracing her left-hand ring finger, and then her knees almost gave way at what it implied. Finally, she married the love of her life and would experience the marriage bed. She would not acknowledge the little bit of unease suddenly spreading through her body.
Spencer meets his Lady Love Page 7
