No one else had ever come close to setting up a home in his heart the way she had.
After waiting a while, he came to the realization she would not be coming to him that night. And rather than suffer a devastating wound to his pride, he refrained from going humbly to her room in case she didn’t open the door to him.
Tomorrow, he would try to mend bridges.
However, the following morning, Miranda’s trunk arrived from her cousin Helen as well as a long letter. With a squeal of delight, his wife left the intimate salon where they were enjoying a quiet breakfast and secured herself in her room for the unpacking of her things and to read the precious letter.
After that, dressed in a new gown that made him jealous of whomever would see her in it that day, she hurried out the door with barely a backward wave of her hand.
He wondered how he would bear it until she returned and he could beg her forgiveness for being sore-headed. But then another missive arrived from Miss Waltham’s father, even more strongly worded than the one he’d found awaiting him the day before. Perrin knew he had returned.
Only back in London one day, and it was time to pay the piper.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Miranda waited while her brand-new calling card, which was merely one of Philip’s withLady Mercerwritten neatly across the top in her own handwriting, was taken by the Beaumonts’ butler. Quite quickly, he reappeared.
“Lady Harriet is in.”
“Naturally,” Miranda said, enjoying her moment, even more so when the butler faced the open doorway to the second-floor drawing room and announced, “The Right Honorable Lady Mercer.”
“I shall never get tired of hearing that,” Miranda said in an overly cheerful tone with a big false smile.
Strolling into the familiar yellow room, she was not surprised to see Lord Beaumont there as well, lounging rudely, not bothering to stand. Apparently, Lady Harriet assumed an ugly scene and wanted her brother either to support her or witness it for his amusement.
“Good day to my patron,” Miranda greeted.
“Good day,” Lady Harriet said, already looking doubtful. No doubt, she’d expected Miranda to be in tears.
“Congratulations are in order,” Miranda said. “To me, of course! You saw my calling card. Why, if I’d known my little book would result in such a happy outcome, I would have written it sooner.”
Lord Beaumont laughed. It seemed he didn’t mind amusing himself at his sister’s expense.
“You had a very warmtendrefor the baron a while back, didn’t you?” he asked Lady Harriet. “You might have tried doing the same, dear sister, since you know as much about everyone’s business as anyone. Thenyouwould be Lady Mercer.”
“Shut up, Geoffrey. That’s the last thing I want!” Lady Harriet insisted, lifting her chin with her cheeks growing rosy.
Ignoring their banter, Miranda took a plump seat despite none being offered and waited while Lady Harriet resumed hers.
“Will there be tea?” Miranda asked. “Never mind, I won’t stay too long. Only to thank you for being my patron. What a brilliant idea you gave me! And I must thank you for sending exactly the correct number of copies out into the world to the right people, although I do believe we could make a small fortune if we wanted to do a larger printing.”
“Oh, but we will,” Lady Harriet said, clearly thinking Miranda a simpleton not to realize what damage had been done with the first few volumes and what more would be done when her book was spread all over London.
“Oh, but we won’t,” Miranda said unequivocally. “While my father appreciated my little jestful tale, my husband has advised me that others won’t be as understanding. Truly, some of those mentioned are flagrant buffoons or wickedly debauched dogs, but others are innocent. They might get hurt through no fault of their own as their tales are told with their identities too thinly disguised.”
“Thatisthe point,” Lady Harriet said. “The printer has started the presses up again and—”
While she blathered on, Miranda took out the precious copy of the oldTête-à-Têtecolumn, which had arrived from Helen with her trunk. She’d thanked her lucky stars for such a clever cousin, rolled the page and slipped it into her reticule that morning.
Interrupting the earl’s daughter midstream, Miranda made a great show of yawning loudly.
When she had both the siblings’ attention, she smiled.
“You are aware I have a cousin who loves gossip nearly as much as I do. And bless her heart, she had an old copy from your parents’ day when some intrepid fellow had done a little digging in the back garden of knowledge. Only look at these adorable sketches of your mother and father, just before you were born.”
Giving the fine paper a little shake, Miranda held it in front of her, and Lord Beaumont sat up for the first time to peer more closely.
“Those are bloody good likenesses,” he said.
