“Your face,” he said.
“Yours,” she said.
And they started to laugh. When Helen was assured they were well, she joined in.
“A merry group to be sure,” came a familiar voice that caused Miranda to rise to her knees and look around.
Chapter Eighteen
Philip! Here?
Helen had gone silent, her lovely gray eyes staring. And Peter was attempting to gain his footing again.
“Don’t be alarmed,” Miranda told them. “This is Lord Mercer.”
Silence met her declaration, then Helen said, “TheLord Mercer? LordMajorMercer?”
“No one calls me that,” Philip said, “except your cousin. I was told you three might be out here, but I didn’t realize mud baths were on your schedule.”
“I would shake your hand,” Peter said, “but I am as filthy as the farmer’s pig.”
Miranda turned to him and wondered if she could get him on his feet, slippery as the ground was.
“May I assist you?” Philip asked, speaking to Peter, although he first moved to Miranda and offered her his hand. She took it, feeling a sensation of relief merely from touching him again before allowing him to draw her to feet.
“I will not take offense,” Peter said good-naturedly.
With graciousness, Philip helped the young man to stand, and keeping a hand under his elbow, he assisted him to return to the pushchair.
“Thank you, my lord,” Peter said, settling back in his seat as Philip recovered the cane. “I am afraid you have ended up wearing some of our mud.”
It was true. Not only Philip’s shoes but his gloves were covered, and Georgie was welcoming him with bounding leaps, sending more mud flying everywhere until Helen called him off and told him to go home.
Miranda had never seen the baron looking less than perfect, except for when she’d capsized the rowboat.
“No matter,” he said and sounded as if he meant it. “I’ve been covered head to toe before.”
“On the battlefield?” Miranda asked.
He looked at her sharply, and not for the first time she realized he didn’t like to speak about going to war.
“Actually, yes, but I was thinking of my estate in Guildford. I enjoy horses and being outdoors in all weather. The two mixed together can be a muddy mess.”
She nodded. “I am surprised to see you here,” she said.
Surprised and utterly delighted.
As a group, they turned toward the house with Philip pushing the Bath-chair and the two siblings remaining silent, obviously interested in the stranger from London.
“Your father told me where to find you.”
“I see.” Her father had probably also told him to bring her back to London. He’d been none too pleased when she’d left. “But why are you here? I thought you were done with the Season, or at least with escorting me.”
Philip didn’t immediately respond. With Helen gawking at him, waiting for his answer, and Peter staring decidedly ahead as if pretending he couldn’t hear them, the tension grew.
“Perhaps we should discuss this in private,” Philip said at last.
“Please God! Yes,” Peter muttered.
