After The Storm (8 page)

“I hardly call it a disgrace, that you are a bit—ah—uncoordinated.” He smiled and shook his head. “I found no fault with you last evening. In fact, I was quite impressed. Not a sign of the savage to be found.”

“Savage? Is that how they see me? I know some find me lacking in refinement...but a savage?” The words weighted her heart and the dawn lost some of its magic as weariness stole over her. “I never thought of myself as such, and neither did any of the people I knew back home. Not even Aunt Arabella and she is one of your
ton
. It’s quite silly. Am I so different?”

“Oh, come now. It was not my intention to hurt you. I was teasing,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble somewhere between a whisper and a growl.

“But that
is
how some see me.”

He rubbed his chin with one hand. “Some
might
. But some might see you as a refreshing change.” Her belly fluttered as he continued, “Such as I do.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Quite the refreshing change, indeed. One does tire of perfect manners and perfectly chosen words. I rather prefer one to speak one’s mind. I’ve little time, and even less patience, for game playing. Especially when it comes to ladies. Now, come along. I will see you back to the stables.”

She didn’t argue, but turned her horse to follow him. “I’m afraid your sister will think me a lost cause. I developed far too many distasteful habits back home and it is so very difficult to change what one’s spent a lifetime practicing.”

“And which village can take pride in knowing it spawned a mouthy minx such as yourself?”

She laughed. “A mouthy minx? I am not at all sure I like that description.”

“I mean it in the highest regards, my lady.” He winked at her over one shoulder as they plodded along the frost-laden path. Then, his brows drew together. “I must admit, something has troubled me about you since we were first introduced. You seem familiar. Have we met before?”

Her fingers tightened about the reins in her hand. He
did
remember their brief encounter on the hillside. Interesting. “We have. I didn’t think you remembered when you made no mention of it.”

“Thank God. I thought I might be going mad.” A grin pulled at his lips. “It’s been nagging at me since I walked into the blasted ballroom.” A light of dawning shone in his eyes and he jabbed a forefinger at her. “You ordered me off your land.”

“I did not
order
you,” she shot back, though she couldn’t help her smile. “I merely…
informed
you.”

“Did you?” His left brow rose up into a severe arch. “If I recall, your words were something to the effect of,
‘I suggest you take yourself from MacDonough land, posthaste.’”

Her smile faded and shame stung her cheeks. Perhaps his remembering her
wasn’t
such a good thing, after all. Still, she cleared her throat to say, “You were trespassing.”

“I was taking a bit of a rest, as I believe I explained at the time.” That blasted brow dropped back into its resting position and he sighed. “At least now I know where I know you from. A bit of a relief, as it was eating away at me. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of how our paths crossed.”

“And now you do.” That he didn’t recall exactly where and when they met tempered the heady rush of knowing he remembered her, but only for a brief moment as she asked, “Do you spend much time in Dunsmore?”

Hugh guided his horse around a thicket of brambles and fell back into step alongside her. “Not an inordinate amount of time, no. But I venture in on occasion. I have holdings in Inverness, so I spend the majority of my time in Scotland there.”

“Really? We always considered it a treat when an errand took us to Inverness.” She smiled over at him. “Do you travel there often?”

The darkness in his eyes wasn’t anger, but rather, sadness. “No. Not lately. I used to spend a great deal of time there, but since my father—”

His abrupt silence didn’t surprise her, as she knew sadness, and loss, well enough. “I am sorry to hear of your loss.”

Hugh didn’t reply, and she didn’t push. Silence stretched out between them and the only sound was the muffled crush of the horses’ hooves on the frosty grass. Several minutes passed before he cleared his throat. “It was quite unexpected.”

His voice was raw with pain, his eyes reddened, and she had the maddest urge to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. Though it hardly seemed enough, the most she could do was offer up a quiet, “Again, my condolences.”

He bobbed his head in her direction. “I thank you.”

Silence reigned as Thorpeton’s stables rose up in the distance. Halfway between them and the woods, Miranda broke the easy silence. “Will you go back to Inverness any time soon?”

“It isn’t likely. Sally is none too fond of Scottish winters. She only barely tolerates the English ones. Besides, I have much responsibility here. My northern holdings are in quite capable hands, and the vast majority of my estates are in England.”

She’d hoped to avoid any more talk of Lady Sally, as it left a bitter taste in her mouth, but there was no way to avoid it. “Have you been courting Lady Sally a long time, then?”

“Since July, but you must remember, there was no formal courtship.” He glanced over at her. “Our families have been intertwined for generations, so I’ve known her since she was but a child. She’s always been around, very much like a member of the family already.”

Hope rose on airy wings from the pit of her belly. “An arranged marriage? I didn’t think anyone had
arranged
marriages these days.”

As he shook his head her hopes crashed with a dull thud. “Not exactly arranged. I’d be free to ask another if I so desire. Well, almost free. My father wouldn’t have been happy about it. He and Hevingford were boyhood chums as well, and both hoped Sally and I would one day wed. I do believe the happiest day of his life was when I told him I’d considered asking for Sally’s hand. I’ve little patience for the hopefuls who come out year after year, looking only to see which title they might snare. Sally was a logical choice and it spares me the headaches of the
ton
in their relentless pursuit of outdoing one another.”

Bitter disdain wove through his words. Perhaps she ought to be relieved he wasn’t claiming undying love for his bride-to-be, but his dismissal of marriage-minded hopefuls brought forth bitterness of her own. “It must seem at times our only goal as women is to capture the loftiest of titles and damn the consequences, eh?”

Hugh frowned, and then shook his head. “I hope you do not think I lumped
you
in that category.”

“You did not separate me from them, did you? And, need I remind you,
I
am one of those hopefuls? True, I care not for titles and status and the like, but I am one of them.” She stared hard at him for a long moment then added, “But it matters not. I am afraid I’ve not yet offered up my congratulations to you. Allow me to correct that at once.”

“Miss MacDonough,” Hugh replied, “I meant no offense and I hope you won’t seek it out. Haven’t I said already how refreshing I find you?”

She stared again until, finally, he held up a hand. “Very well. I apologize for any injury I’ve caused you, my lady. And as for your offer of congratulations, they are unnecessary. I have made no announcement yet. There is blessed little to congratulate.”

By then, they were near the stables. Miranda drew Lady Jane to a halt. As much as she didn’t want to go back to the house, she had no choice. “I think it best if I went on my own. I should hate to have any prying eyes see us and stir up trouble between you and Lady Sally.”

“I do hope you’ll not remain angry with me.”

She sighed. How could she? Her growing attraction to him was far too powerful for her to ignore, and she couldn’t fault him for his somewhat jaded approach to marriage. He must have had more than his fair share of dealings with title-coveting maidens. “I am not angry.”

He smiled then. “I am forever grateful. And now, I shall change the subject entirely and say something innocuous. I understand you have another dance lesson scheduled with Elyse for this afternoon?”

She almost laughed at his not-so-cleverly disguised switch, but her humor was short-lived. She didn’t want to think about her upcoming dance lesson, because after, she’d be forced to sit for an hour, her back perfectly straight, sipping too-sweet tea as she learned the dull art of idle chitchat. “I do. I only hope I have one of each foot, instead of two left ones this time.”

“You’ve nothing to fear. I shall wear the heaviest leather boots I might find.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems Derek is quite skilled at wheedling his way out of tasks he finds unpleasant, and dancing is one such task. As a result, I shall be your partner again.”

That helped to lift some of her gloom about her lessons. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well then, Your Gra—I mean, Thorpeton.” His name on her lips sent a wicked chill down her spine. “I will see you later this afternoon. Good day.” She didn’t wait for his response, but turned Lady Jane in the direction of the stables, and hurried back inside.

After handing Lady Jane to a rather surprised looking groom, Miranda plodded back to the house. The clouds thickened to blot out the weak sunlight, which suited her gray mood. It had been a pleasant ride, and had she not been fool enough to bring Sally into the conversation, it would have been the ideal morning.

As expected, Mrs. Anderson was none too happy about Miranda’s most recent disappearance and didn’t mind saying so as she cornered Miranda in the hallway outside her chamber. “This will stop at once. I will not tolerate you thumbing your nose at conventional wisdom and exposing yourself to all sorts of rumor and innuendo. Not to mention your theft of the duchess’ horse. And you definitely do not want Lady Marchand learning of your peccadilloes. Somehow, I don’t think she’d be so tickled by such antics.”

Guilt flashed through Miranda. Hugh hadn’t seemed at all upset she’d borrowed Lady Jane. However, it was so difficult to tell with him. Then again, considering he wasn’t at all shy in his word choice, she thought it safe to assume he wasn’t troubled by her actions.

She shook her head. “I’ve stolen nothing.” She held the chaperone’s frigid dark-eyed stare as she leaned against the wall. She was tired of never putting a foot right where Mrs. Anderson was concerned and she was also tired of her chaperone’s constant threats to go to Aunt Arabella. They smacked of cowardice and stoked her temper more than a little. “I exposed myself to nothing. I merely rode through the woods and returned home. How might
that
expose me to rumor and innuendo?”

“I ought but box your ears for your insolence. Tell me, did you speak to your father this way?”

“No.” She wanted only to go up to her chambers and freshen up. “But perhaps because he treated me not as a child, but as one quite capable of caring for herself. He encouraged me to speak my mind and that is just what I intend to do.”

Mrs. Anderson snorted. “I always said he was a fool. It is a shame Arabella refused to listen to me all these years.”

“He was nothing of the sort!” Miranda shoved up and away from the wall and drew up to her full height, which meant she loomed over Mrs. Anderson. “I’ll nae be standin’ here, listening to such fodder! How would ye ken to judge him anyhow? Ye spend all yer time sippin’ yer tea and worryin’ about which maid is dallyin’ wi’ what laird!”

Mrs. Anderson’s eyes widened as the palm of her hand cracked solidly against Miranda’s cheek. In fact if she hadn’t been so much taller, the blow would have surely felled her. Instead, she gasped and stumbled back, her hand clapped to her cheek.

She couldn’t believe Mrs. Anderson struck her. No one ever hit her before. Not even Angus. Though they had many a row, he never lashed out. Their disagreements often boiled down to a contest of each trying to out-shout the other. That her
chaperone
dared to
raise a hand to her stunned her.