Yet thinking of the public nature ofThe Timesgossip column that had upset Philip’s apple cart, Miranda said, “I assure you my cousins know everything.”
The baron turned his head and fixed her with his dark gaze. “Everything?”
Each intimate kiss and private moment they’d shared flickered through her memories. She caught her breath.
“Very well,” Miranda agreed quickly. “I shall change and then come find you.”
Ten minutes later, washed and changed, she dashed into the hallway only to bump into Helen.
“You look remarkably fresh considering you were lying in a mudpuddle less than half an hour ago.”
“Thank you. How is he? Where is he?”
“You are as jittery as a woman in love,” Helen jibed but in a kind voice.
“Nonsense!”
“Your entire dirty face lit up when you saw him,” her cousin pointed out.
“Bah!”Miranda said.
“Stop pretending I am imagining things. There is no shame in love. You know I have given my heart to our neighbor, Mr. Wendall. And I can easily see why you would be smitten with Lord Mercer. He is a rum duke and then some.”
“A rum baron,” Miranda corrected, then added, “In point of fact, a brandy baron.”
They both engaged in a fit of giggles.
Finally, grasping Helen’s hands, Miranda said, “He is a fine figure of a man, and he’s kind. You saw how he helped Peter without making him feel less worthy. However, Lord Mercer is a rake, and unlike your upstanding farmer, he will not make me a good and decent husband. I told you he was unhappy that I might have put his future at risk.”
“Then why is he here?” Helen asked.
“That’s what I shall find out.”
“And if he’s here to ask for your hand?” her cousin pressed.
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Helen, dear one, I have been guilty of filling your head with too many stories. Where is the brandy baron?”
“He had to change, too, and then Father and Mother made him sit in the parlor with them and drink tea, but I’m sure they’ll let you have a few minutes of privacy.” She paused. “On second thought, I am not sure of that at all. They never let me visit alone with Mr. Wendall when he comes calling.”
WHEN MIRANDA SHOWED herself in the parlor, Philip was on his feet before the swish of her pale green dress fell silent. She was back to her perfectly lovely self, although he hadn’t minded her clad in slippery mud either.
“Miss Bright, I must speak with you in private if your aunt and uncle will afford us that courtesy.”
He bowed to each in turn. Philip hadn’t really asked permission and decided the best thing to do was not to await a response.
“Shall we walk in the garden?” He didn’t know if there was one besides the wet field upon which he’d found Miranda sprawled, but somewhere outside he would find a place to have a word with her.
As if marshalling an unruly soldier under his command, he threaded her arm through his and marched her toward the terrace door.
“Over yonder is a wildflower garden,” she directed, and he picked up the pace once again. “But we must stay in sight of the house.”
“Naturally. I didn’t come here to compromise you,” he told her.
“Which begs the question, why did you come?” she asked. “Without me by your side, you are free to enjoy yourusualcourse of action.”
Philip sighed. She still thought he would prefer to be meeting women in dark gardens or up to his normal enjoyments at Covent Garden brothels. He had only himself to blame for her opinion of him.
“Without you, your father is less than amenable to helping me. Without you, I am more likely to be pressed to marry Miss Waltham, something I have no intention of doing.”Without you,he added silently,I am miserable.
