She was breathless by the time the kiss was over, her nipples hard, the insistent ache between her legs so demanding that she pressed her thighs together in an effort to quell it. Miranda sifted her fingers through his silken hair, studying his handsome countenance, so serious and stern, the customary teasing, devil-may-care rake nowhere to be found this evening.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m not inside you right now.”
He kissed her again before she could chastise him for saying something so vulgar. His lips moved over hers, lingeringly, deliciously. But Miranda knew him well enough to sense when something was weighing heavily on his mind.
She tore her mouth from his. “Something is amiss. Tell me.”
He sighed, the sound weary. “It’s my sister.”
Miranda recalled the fondness in his voice when he had spoken about her. They were close. His solemn expression worried her.
“Is she well?”
“Yes. No. Hell.” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know.”
Miranda smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead, a surge of tenderness and protective concern rising. “Has she taken ill?”
“No, thank God. She is well enough. But whilst I was away, she disappeared for a week. She returned this afternoon, claiming to have been visiting our Great-Aunt Bitsy in the country.”
Miranda frowned. “Claimingto have visited your great-aunt? You don’t believe your sister?”
He sighed again, looking torn. “It isn’t like Rhiannon to deceive me, but her story makes little sense. Our mother had no notion my sister was going or where she had gone. Great-Aunt Bitsy would have invited Mater as well as Rhiannon, and our mother received no invitation that she can recall. Great-Aunt Bitsy may be eccentric, but she would not have approved of Rhiannon traveling to her unchaperoned.”
“Your sister traveled alone?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “And without informing any of the servants or our mother where she had gone or when she might return. She took a hired hackney, for Christ’s sake. Anything could have happened to her.”
“That does seem rather reckless,” she allowed. “But perhaps there was a reason for her actions.”
“I don’t doubt there was, nor do I doubt the timing. She left when she knew I would be gone, and she was more than aware our mother would fail to take note of her absence until it was too late.”
Suddenly, Miranda understood the underlying reason for his concern. A young lady who would deliberately go on an unplanned jaunt alone, and when her protective older brother was conspicuously absent, was suspicious indeed. There was one likely reason for her unexpected disappearance.
“You suspect your sister of meeting with a beau,” she guessed.
His expression turned haunted. “Yes. If any scurrilous rogue has dared to ruin my sister, he will wish he was never born. I’ll see to it myself.”
“Have you any proof that she was with someone else? What of your great-aunt? Has she confirmed your sister’s story of the visit?”
He shook his head. “Great-Aunt Bitsy is not a prompt correspondent, I fear. I’ve sent off a letter in her direction, but I don’t expect to have a response any time soon, if at all. She is forever fretting over her menagerie of animals and often ignores her correspondence for weeks at a time. Short of paying her a visit myself, I’m not likely to have an answer. Rhiannon, of course, would know this as well.”
“You are a good brother, Rhys.” She caressed his cheek, love for him welling up within her, threatening to overflow.
How would she be able to carry on in one month’s time? To live her life without him in it? The thought left her desolate. She couldn’t bear to consider it.
“If I were a good brother, this wouldn’t have happened,” he countered grimly. “I ought to have made certain she hada companion to watch over her. I should have known Mater wouldn’t be any match for Rhiannon when she sets her mind to something.”
“You couldn’t have known that your sister would leave when you were gone. How many occasions have you left without anything untoward happening at all?”
“Many,” he admitted.
And for a moment, she knew a pang of jealousy for each of those occasions, many of which had likely been Wicked Dukes Society house parties. For the lovers he had known before her. For the lovers he would take after her.
Miranda blinked against the sting of tears she refused to allow to fall. “You see? You could not have known.”
Just as she couldn’t have known how quickly she would lose her heart to this man. How was it that only a little over a week had passed since they had gone to Hertfordshire together? She could only hope the next month would progress torpidly. That she could savor these moments with him, when he was hers.
