They locked gazes, and her cheeks warmed.
He took off his hat, put it back on, and then removed it again before tucking it under his arm.
“I am here to see your father.”
Chapter Thirteen
Miranda nearly gasped, managing to stifle herself. Instead, she bit her lip to halt the excitement bubbling up inside her.Lord Philip Mercer was going to offer for her!
After all, he’d nearly taken her innocence. Any decent man — well, any decent one wouldn’t have stripped himself bare in the first place, but having done so, he would extend an offer for her hand and give her his name in return. Yet she had never expected such gallantry from the baron.
“I tried his court first,” Lord Mercer continued, “and they said he was here.”
Her heart swelled with joy. She could see herself as his wife, enjoying their conversations, laughing together, and, of course, kissing and engaging in true love-making. Their life would be one of sheer happiness.
“Yes,” she blurted, answering his unspoken question far too loudly and exuberantly. Trying to recover her composure, she turned quickly from him. “My father is at home. Come this way.”
She led him down the passage and knocked on the study door, which was uncharacteristically closed as he was deliberating a difficult judgment. Nonetheless, for the chance to marry off his daughter, her father would wish to be interrupted.
“Papa, Lord Mercer is here to see you.”
“Come in,” he replied.
Miranda pushed the door open, then backed away, letting Philip go by. Without another word, he closed the door in her face.
She grimaced.Why did men have to speak with the father before speaking to the woman they wanted to marry?It was downright medieval!
Pressing an ear to the door, she could hear nothing but murmurs. Frustrated, she returned to the parlor. If her father said yes, which he would, then Philip would join her shortly and ask for her hand.
However, a few minutes later, Lord Mercer went down the hall, straight past the door she’d left ajar, and departed.
“Papa,” she yelled, already on her feet and hurrying to his study. Without waiting she opened the door. By his severe expression, something was wrong.
“Did you tell him no?” she asked.
“I most certainly did!” Her father leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and glowered.
Exasperated, Miranda threw her hands in the air. “But why? I like him. I would be pleased to marry him despite his reputation.”
“Marry him?” Her father shook his head. “Darling daughter, have you taken leave of all your wits? You know he’s a rake. He is not interested in marrying. Not you, nor anyone.”
Feeling the sharp lance of disappointment, she sat in the leather chair, seeing Philip’s imprint just before she did. It was still warm.
“Then what did he come here to ask you?”
“The scoundrel wanted to be let out of our arrangement.”
“Oh!” That was unexpected, not to mention hurtful. “Did he say why?”
“Only that he felt four weeks was enough, and he had done his duty. It would seem Mercer cannot bear being on good behavior any longer.” Then he narrowed his eyes at her.
“Hehasbeen respectful, has he not?”
Miranda kept her gaze on him. If she looked away, her father would know the truth. All she could do was nod and swallow the lies she didn’t want to speak.
“He had better be,” her father added. “He thinks he is safe where Miss Waltham’s uncle is concerned, too.” Her father gave a mirthless laugh. “Yet I could destroy his brandy deal fast enough to make his head spin.”
“Papa!” she admonished, but her heart hurt. Philip no longer wanted to escort her. Knowing that, she couldn’t possibly continue as they had.
