Lucas nodded.
Then another thought ricocheted through Heathcliff’s mind.
She knew.
Bloody hell, Miss Miranda knew!
Was that even her real name? He expected not, which elevated his level of anger at the situation.
“Bloody hell.” He spat. “She knew!”
Women were deceitful, the lot of them. Innocent ones as well!
Lucas chuckled. “She did, but in her defense, I did request she not tell you anything.”
“Then I shall take my anger out on you.” Heathcliff glared.
“You know a fight would end in a draw, with us both bloody and weary. You’re stronger, but I’m faster,” Lucas reminded him.
Damn it all, the bastard was right.
“What a mess.” Heathcliff rubbed his hand down his face and leaned back in his chair.
“Women often create problems as much as they solve them,” Lucas offered sagely.
“Oh, shut up.” Heathcliff wasn’t in the mood for his friend’s attempt at wisdom. Only a few months earlier, Lucas would have wholeheartedly agreed with him.
Now he was of the converted sort.
And utterly useless.
“Are you going to tell Liliah?”
Lucas paused. “Tell her?”
“Anything,” Heathcliff answered.
“Perhaps. It depends on what she asks.”
“Traitor,” Heathcliff remarked.
Lucas chuckled. “It will be interesting to find out what my wife discovers regarding what . . .” He paused. “Is it Miss Miranda?”
“Blast, yes. What’s the chit’s real name anyway?”
“Samantha. But under the circumstances—”
“I know, Miss Samantha it is.” Heathcliff waved a tired hand, then thought over the name. Samantha. It fit her.
“Of course, as her brother-in-law, I could demand that you come up to scratch,” Lucas remarked.
Heathcliff’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
Lucas chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and in turn, my wife would have my hide. No, Liliah is convinced her sister needs a love match because she enjoys one of her own.” Lucas preened.
Heathcliff wanted to gag.
“How lucky for her,” he remarked dryly.
“And since you are not that love match, I’m afraid I can’t force the issue.” Lucas dusted off his hands.
“How magnanimous of you,” Heathcliff continued in dry sarcasm.
“However, I must insist that you cease taking liberties with her, you understand.”
Heathcliff nodded. “Consider it done.” He refused to acknowledge the hint of regret that passed through him.
“I have your word?” Lucas leaned forward, spearing him with his sharp blue gaze.
Heathcliff gave a shrug. “Of course.”
Now that he knew the conniving nature of the girl, it would be easy to remain on guard.
No more touches.
No more kisses.
Nothing beyond cool detachment.
He could do that.
Couldn’t he?
He had to.
Yet, even as Lucas leaned back, trying with little effort to hide a grin, Heathcliff had an errant thought.
What if the lie he was telling wasn’t to Lucas . . . but to himself?
Chapter Fifteen
Iris’s eyes grew wide as the door to the library opened. Miranda studied her pupil for a moment, then turned the direction of Iris’s gaze, then gasped.
“Liliah!”
She all but tossed her needlepoint aside and rushed to meet her sister.
“Sa—Miranda!”
Mrs. Keyes took a quick step back, her gray head shifting between the two girls as Miranda rushed forward to embrace her sister. Tears pricked her eyes as she held on to her elder sister, feeling the loneliness melt from her like snow in the sunshine.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Liliah murmured, holding her tightly, then releasing her just enough to lean back and examine her.
Miranda’s face ached with the span of her grin of delight as she studied her sister. Her golden hair was neatly pinned into a beautiful twist and her eyes danced with joy, a deep-seated joy that came from her once-restless heart finding its home.
Miranda had the suspicion her brother-in-law had much to do with that peaceful state in Liliah’s life. Affection for her little-known brother-in-law flooded her at the sight of her sister’s joy. “You look lovely as always, and utterly joyful,” Miranda replied, reaching down to squeeze her hand.
“And you!” Liliah tilted her head slightly. “There’s something different, something confident in you. Freedom looks well on you, love.” Moisture gathered in Liliah’s eyes as she spoke the words.
Miranda nodded, understanding their deep meaning.
Freedom. It was worth the risk.
Because even though she had fought loneliness, she was free to live her life without the oppressive nature of their father, and his tyrannical rule over her life.
Liliah had fled first but, thankfully, had never once considered leaving Miranda behind.
“Come, sit.” Miranda gestured to the library’s sitting area and watched as Mrs. Keyes stepped forward.
“If I may, would you care to take tea?” she asked with the utmost civility.
Miranda nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Keyes, thank you.”
To her credit, Mrs. Keyes didn’t ask the questions clearly written on her face, and quickly quit the room, presumably to fetch tea.
“Allow me to introduce my pupil, Miss Iris.” Miranda gestured to her, noticing her silence.
Liliah moved forward with grace and nodded kindly to Iris.
Iris remained frozen.
“Iris?” Miranda asked.
Iris blinked, then stood. “My apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She curtseyed, albeit slightly awkwardly.
They would work on that later, Miranda decided.
“Miss Iris, please meet my sister, Lady Liliah Heightfield.” Miranda bit her lip after the introduction, suddenly concerned that she had given too much detail. It would be helpful to speak with her sister, and her brother-in-law, to decide how much could be potentially dangerous. Not that her father would suspect her to be hiding in Scotland, but one could never be too careful.
Especially when dealing with the Duke of Chatterworth.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Iris. I’ve been looking forward to making your acquaintance,” Liliah said as she took a seat across from her.
Iris nodded, then turned wide eyes to Miranda. “Perhaps you would like some time alone?”
“Yes, but promise me you’ll continue your needlepoint and then do something to improve your mind? Likely we will practice conversation at dinner as well, and I’d like for you to enter into the conversation more than last night.”
Iris nodded, the sparkle returning to her countenance. “If I can get a word in edgewise,” she teased.
Miranda tilted her head in query.
“Yes, Miss Miranda.” Iris stood, curtseyed, and then left the room.
“She seems like a lovely girl; a bit on the precocious side, but that’s only to her credit.” Liliah grinned.
“She reminds me of you in many ways.”
“She’ll be a sensation for sure, then.” Liliah giggled. “Now, tell me everything. Start with the first day you arrived.” Liliah leaned forward, anticipation radiating from her.
Miranda was more than willing to indulge her sister’s curiosity.
She was just telling of the first time she was introduced to the viscount when Mrs. Keyes arrived with the tea. Liliah assured Mrs. Keyes that they would pour for themselves, and the housekeeper left, her footsteps slightly reluctant, as if she wished she could stay to solve the fascinating mystery of the two ladies.
When the door closed, Miranda continued her tale. She debated speaking of the story of her fall into the pond but wanted her sister’s opinion on the matte
r.
Once she finished with that, Miranda purposefully poured herself a cup of tea and waited for Liliah’s response.
“That is certainly out of character.” Liliah poured herself a cup of tea as well, blowing across the top.
“How so?” Miranda asked.
“You say he was abrupt in his departure once he set you down in the room?” Liliah asked.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm. Continue. I’m saving my opinions till I’ve heard everything,” Liliah said.
Miranda suppressed a groan, then gave a description of last night’s dinner conversation.
“Ah, so that is why Iris said it would be difficult to get a word in. It seems you and the viscount have much in common,” Liliah said with a significant look.
“Some. I would not venture to say much,” Miranda corrected, but as she considered the rest of her story, her cheeks flamed. Did she dare tell her sister?
“Oh! There’s something you’re not telling me,” she quietly exclaimed and set down her teacup. “Surely there is something delicious or you wouldn’t blush so!”
“I’m not blushing.” Miranda calmly took a sip of tea.
“Liar,” Liliah replied. “Regardless, I will not cease in pestering you till you give me what I seek. What happened?” She leaned forward with a wide grin.
Miranda sighed. “It is nothing as forbidden as you are anticipating.”
Lilah bit her lip. “The fact that you said such a thing tells me that you know something you did not know when you left London . . .”
“You are utterly irritating,” Miranda replied.
“Lucas says it’s part of my charm.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Love is blind,” Liliah said with a wave of her hand.
“Love is ignorant.” Miranda giggled, immensely enjoying the camaraderie she shared with her sister.
“I’m still waiting,” Liliah singsonged.
Miranda’s face heated as she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.
“The anticipation is horrific,” Liliah lamented.
“Such theatrics,” Miranda said in an effort to delay.
“You kissed,” Liliah guessed, then bit her lip as she awaited the verdict from her sister.
Miranda’s face heated to a painful degree, then closed her eyes as her sister applauded with victory at guessing correctly.
“My, this is wonderful, and not necessarily surprising. Why, I told Lucas—”
“You told me what, darling?”
Liliah startled as the door closed quietly.
“I didn’t even hear you enter,” Liliah scolded playfully.
Miranda turned and watched her brother-in-law stride into the room, his eyes solely on his wife, affection apparent on his face.
“You were quite enthralled in the conversation, love.” He came beside his wife and took a seat, kissing her softly on the cheek. Miranda watched as a lovely rose-colored blush tinted her sister’s cheeks.
For a moment, they just gazed at each other. It would have been almost theatrical in its drama if it weren’t so lovely. Miranda was thankful for the obvious love between the two, but also felt a sense of loss. She couldn’t quite place it, but it was there nonetheless.
Lucas was first to look away, and he turned to Miranda. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Miranda.” He spoke smoothly, as if her borrowed name were her true identity.
“It’s a pleasure to see you as well, Lord Heightfield,” she said warmly.
“Lucas, if you please. I’ve never been fond of being called by my title. Reminds me too much of London society.”
Miranda nodded. “Lucas, then.” It was slightly awkward to call him by his Christian name, but if he requested it, who was she to deny him?
“I trust you had a productive conversation with the viscount?” Liliah asked, her eyes sparkling with knowledge.
Miranda held her breath as Lucas studied her. Would he notice her overly exuberant expression? Probably. The true question was whether he’d inquire about it.
“Indeed. It was quite . . . enlightening,” he added meaningfully.
Miranda released her held breath, then grew curious at the tone of his voice.
“As was mine.” Liliah arched a brow. “The question now is what to do with them?”
Miranda would have choked on her tea had she taken a sip. Blessedly, as it was, she was practically frozen with dread at their conversation.
“Hmm. That remains to be seen.” He arched a brow and turned to Miranda. “I trust you are comfortable with your position here?”
Liliah served him a cup of tea while Miranda nodded. “The viscount has been very kind, and Iris is . . . challenging,” she finished with a smile.
“Challenging; that’s an interesting way to put it.” Lucas arched a brow and accepted the teacup from his wife.
“She’s educated, but not in the more feminine arts. It’s been a learning experience for both of us.”
“I see. And are you happy here?”
Miranda smiled warmly at her brother-in-law, thankful that he’d care to ask. “Yes. The viscount moved me into a very lovely room, and I do adore Mrs. Keyes and the other staff.”
“That’s very good to hear.”
“And Iris and I get along quite well, as long as we don’t practice dancing too much. I’m afraid it is a bit of a sore subject, which in turn gives me sore toes,” she added with a grin.
Lucas chuckled, turning a warm gaze to his wife, then back to Miranda. “That is something that certainly must be remedied. However, if she insists on dancing on all the gentlemen’s toes in London, she surely will at least be remembered.”
“I don’t think Iris has the personality to be forgotten, my lord. She has quite a colorful personality. She will either take the Season by storm, or she will offend many with her bold nature,“ Miranda replied. “I rather think she will make a splash.”
The door opened, and before Miranda even turned, she knew who had entered.
Her skin prickled with energy, and her body warmed. Keeping her eyes lowered, she studied her teacup, hoping her controlled demeanor wouldn’t give anything away.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Lucas remarked with a teasing tone.
“And he shall appear,” the viscount finished, his tone slightly strained.
Miranda glanced up then. He met her gaze, then flickered his away, studying his friend. “I see you’ve made yourself right at home.” He took a seat close to Miranda, on a wingback chair.
“I thought it was only fair to return the favor,” Lucas replied.
“Eh, fair enough.” The viscount chuckled.
“You have a lovely estate, Viscount Kilpatrick.” Liliah spoke with civility. “I see from the windows that you have a courtyard behind the house.”
The viscount nodded. “It’s home. But I must say, my favorite location is the pond over the hill.”
Miranda’s gaze shot to him, but he didn’t seem as if the words held any undercurrent.
They surely did for her.
Lifting her almost empty teacup, she took the last cool sip of tea, needing something to do.
“What about you, Miss Miranda? Have you enjoyed the estate?” He directed the question to her.
She glanced up, her mind quickly spinning to come up with an articulate answer.
She could be cautious.
She could say something benign.
But in those few seconds, as she thought, everything within her revolted against doing the proper, the right thing.
She could have said a hundred things, but instead, she met his gaze with a bold one of her own and replied, “I quite prefer the stables.”
The freedom the truth gave was powerful.
As was the shock in his gaze.
That warmed into appreciation, but then cooled into a frosty indifference as he turned away. “If you’re visiting the stables, I’d take a footman with you.”
Miranda gave a single nod, th
en turned toward her sister.
There was something in her sister’s gaze that fortified her confused heart.
She almost didn’t recognize it, but it fed her soul.
It was hope.
And if Liliah saw hope, she could see it too.
Chapter Sixteen
Heathcliff paced the length of his bedchamber, waiting until the last moment to head downstairs for dinner.
He knew the folly of it, yet he hadn’t been able to restrain the words that had tumbled forth. Filtering the space between his mind and his mouth had always been difficult, and that was certainly the case this afternoon.
What had he been thinking?
Not ten minutes before, he had sworn off the chit, reminding himself of her duplicity. Even if it weren’t entirely her fault, he still held it partially against her character. But when he’d seen her, his resentment faded like a highland mist. She practically glowed as she sat with Lucas and her sister.
He was taken aback as he considered just how much bravery it took to take such a leap of faith.
Faith that ended up being placed in him.
Which he’d shot to hell when he kissed her, and wasn’t even gentlemanly enough to regret it.
Rather, when he was asked the question about his estate, his mind immediately leaped to the pond, where she’d ignited his intrigue.
Then the blasted woman had to mention the stables.
He’d nearly choked.
It had taken all his self-control to turn away and somehow save his resolve.
As weak as it may be at the moment.
He hadn’t looked back at her till he was assured of his impassive expression. Lucas and Liliah had left shortly after, promising to return in a few days.
Which meant that for dinner tonight, it would just be Miss Miranda, Miss Iris, and himself.
Last night’s dinner conversation had started the whole fiasco. He wasn’t holding out hope for this evening’s to be any better. Half of him wanted to request a plate sent to his study, but his damned pride wouldn’t allow such a cowardly act.
No.
He would dine with the ladies.
He would ignore the sparkling intellect of Miss Miranda.
He would eat his meal and be done with the whole thing.
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