“That’s looking on the bright side of things,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Dinna berate me. Have I mentioned how beautiful ye look this morning?”
This man truly melted her heart. “Only a time or two.”
“Well, I’ll tell ye again. Ye fill my heart, my beautiful lass. I’m never happier than when ye are by my side.” He made love to her, and she always marveled how gentle he was with her even as he poured on the heat and scorched her with his passionate kisses.
There was something quite raw and honest in the way he made love to her that she adored, because this was him in all his arrogance and manly pride, in his conquering nature, and in the tenderness of his love for her that always shone through.
“I love you so much,” she told him when their hot passion was fulfilled and they lay spent in each other’s arms. “But the servants will talk if we spend all day in bed.”
“Let them. I can never get enough of ye.”
Laughing, she sat up and nudged him off the bed. “Come on, my big, grumpy bear. Duty awaits you.”
“All right, ye cruel lass.” He rose and stretched his magnificently muscled form before donning the banyan she had insisted on purchasing for him, because he really could not strut about the house in all his naked splendor.
They had little time to dawdle, since Bram needed to get to his office and was already running late.
They each went into their separate dressing rooms to wash and dress, he with the assistance of his valet, Caulfield, and she with the help of Lottie, her ever-efficient and good-natured maid.
When they were finished, they ate a hasty breakfast, and then Miranda walked him out the front door to his waiting carriage. “I’ll see ye this evening, my sweetheart,” Bram said, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before climbing into his carriage.
Miranda waved to him as it turned off the square onto the busier streets of London and disappeared from her view.
“Good morning, Miranda!” Berry called to her, running out her front door.
Suzanna and Gwendolyn soon tore out of their houses, too.
“When did you arrive?” Suzanna asked, slightly out of breath when she reached Miranda.
“Late last night,” Miranda replied, quite jubilant to be reunited with her friends. “Won’t you come in? We’ll share a pot of tea and catch up. Have I missed anything important since I’ve been gone?”
“Ooh, lots,” Berry said as they all followed Miranda into her home. “Lady Trowbridge has fled to the Continent.”
Miranda’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Fled? Why? When? What happened?”
“Oh, you are going tolovethis story.” Gwendolyn laughed, but refused to say anything more until they were all ensconced in Miranda’s parlor and Humbolt had rolled in the tea cart thatalso contained a freshly baked lemon cake and another of ginger cake.
“Why did she flee to the Continent?” Miranda asked as she poured tea into their cups.
“She messed with the wrong husband.” Gwendolyn nodded toward the ginger cake as Miranda sliced it and put a piece on her plate. “Or rather, she angered the wrong wife.”
Miranda next cut into the lemon cake. “Who was this wrong wife?”
“Lady Bancroft,” Berry said with a shake of her head.
“Oh my.” Miranda’s lips twitched with barely suppressed mirth as she handed Berry a slice.
Dear heaven.Lady Bancroft was a beast. It was quite possible that woman could take down Bram, she was that strong.
But this made no sense to Miranda. “Why would Lady Trowbridge ever dare dally with Lord Bancroft?”
“Hubris, no doubt. Brazen nerve. Haughtiness. Perhaps Lady Bancroft insulted her and she sought revenge.” Suzanna giggled. “Goodness, did she miscalculate when she tried to sink her claws into Lord Bancroft. This incensed Lady Bancroft, who is quite proprietary about her husband and quite the battle-ax, as we all know.”
“Yes, quite the battle-ax,” Berry repeated with a giggle. “She went after Lady Trowbridge with ahatchet.”
“What?” Miranda burst out laughing. “You’re jesting.”
