“Oh?” she asked curiously, although she allowed herself to be guided outside, thankful she had kept her coat on.
He shrugged as they walked down the street. “It’s one of the favorites of the locals. It’s not as well known, but the food is exemplary.”
She laughed, and he was glad to hear it. Maybe that meant the tension from earlier had dissipated. Or else, perhaps she’d decided to move past it. “You really do know your way around for someone who is a tourist like the rest of us.”
He grinned. “Not really. I just get around. “
They entered the establishment in question, a modest pub at the edge of the main thoroughfare. “Mr. Gravehill!” The bartender greeted him heartily, and he glanced at Miranda to see her eyeing him warily.
All he could do was lift his hands in supplication as the gentleman walked over and said, “Would you like your usual table in the corner? I reserve it just for you.” He glanced at Miranda and said with a wink, “He’s one of my best customers.”
“Don’t be trying to gain extra coin from me, Matthews,” Anthony said dryly. “But yes, the corner table will be fine for the lady and myself.”
As they sat down, Miranda folded her arms and set back in her chair. She lifted a brow. “Will we be granted the wine list as well?” she teased.
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” he returned. “Just relax and prepare to be amazed.”
As the barkeeper took their order and left to get their drinks, Miranda asked, “I find it rather unusual that…Matthews, is it?…seems to know you quite familiarly when you claim you are merely passing through.” She tilted her head to the side. “I have the feeling you aren’t telling me everything.” Anthony looked down at the table, because he couldn’t lie to her face, but when she gasped, he glanced back at her. “You have taken up residence here, haven’t you? That’s why you’re so familiar with the surroundings and why the barkeeper seems to know you so well.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. He had hoped to keep at least some part of his life a secret, but it appeared that was not to be the case. “I don’t call Keswick my home, although I spend a lot of time here. I make my home in Braithwaite, about four kilometers from here.”
She stared at him. “How long have you been here?”
He shifted in his seat. Something told him to be cautious of his answers, that it could mean his demise. “A while.”
“Long enough to have written to me?” she demanded. “Or come to London to see Jacob?”
He decided there was no point in dismissing the truth when it had condemned him. “I wasn’t prepared to—”
“So you allowed all of us to mourn you when you were—” She stopped, and then added, “Doing what, exactly?”
He swallowed hard. “I have a fishing boat.”
She barked out a laugh that was anything but humorous. “So, in essence, you were on holiday while you left the rest of us to worry about you? Well done, Mr. Gravehill. I applaud your great selfishness.”
He frowned at that. “I wasn’t thinking of myself when I decided to remain here. I told you I was in a dark place for a long time—”
“And you believe you are the only one who has suffered in this life?” She snorted. “I have lost both of my parents and lived a lonely life, all while anticipating your return. You promised that you would come back to me. And I waited all that time—”
She clamped her lips together, because not only was her voice starting to rise with her upset, but she must have realized she had said too much.
She got to her feet. “Forgive me for not staying, but I find that my appetite has quite diminished.”
She stalked toward the door. By the time Anthony had recovered from the shock of everything she’d said, she was already halfway outside. He stood. “Miranda!”
She didn’t pause.
He slowly sank back down, just as the drinks were brought over. The barkeep looked at him in sympathy. “It seems as if you have a history with the lady.”
“Indeed,” Anthony muttered grimly, as he grabbed the ale and took a hefty swig. “But I don’t foresee a future.”
Miranda wasfurious enough to bite through glass by the time she had returned to the inn. She walked inside and nearly ran her sister over, who was on her way out with Daniel and their daughter. Elaine’s eyes widened in surprise, either at Miranda’s rush through the door, or the look of rancor that was likely plastered all over her face. “Randie?”
For some reason the sound of that sweet nickname suddenly grated on Miranda’s nerves. She didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries but kept walking.
Of course, Elaine wouldn’t have left things like that. Miranda heard her tell her husband to go on without her, and she finally caught up to Miranda at the bottom of the stairs. “Dear God, what’s happened?”
Miranda caught a flash of the door opening and saw Anthony walk inside. Their eyes met for an instant before she turned away. “Not here,” she muttered to Elaine and then quickly made her way to her rooms. She checked the hall and was relieved to find it empty as she let Elaine inside then shut and locked the door behind them.
