Dangerous Secrets (74 page)

‶
Of course they will,″
Simon added. His deep voice sent a shiver up her spine, beginning just at the
spot at the small of her back where his hand gently rested.
‶
And
none of you need worry about Miranda. I will take good care of her.″

Valentine met her eyes and smiled.
‶
And
she will take care of you, Kerstone. Won′t you, Miranda?″

Would she? Could she? She struggled not to
reveal the crushing load of doubt that suddenly oppressed her. Simon′s
life, not just his future happiness, lay in her hands.

He handed her into the carriage. The vehicle
swayed as he followed her inside. To Miranda′s surprise, he intended to
ride inside with her. Could he be in pain? He seemed healthy enough. Indeed,
his presence filled the carriage.

As the cheerful well-wishing of the wedding
guests faded into the distance, and the sharp pain of watching her
family′s faces grow into indistinguishable dots of color dulled, she found
herself nervous to have him so near. The intimacy again reminded her of their
sojourn in the hunter′s cottage — the very reason they were now here as
husband and wife.

Wife. She felt a liquid settling in her middle
as the word struck her, with all its attendant responsibilities. Not the least
of which was the getting of an heir. She owed him that, after all, if he was
not to live long. She hoped she would not fail him in such an important task.

‶
Why are you staring so?″
Simon asked her. But there was a smile upon his lips that suggested he knew
very well in which direction her thoughts had wandered.

Miranda flushed.
‶
I was wondering if you were
feeling well.″

His lips tightened in annoyance and then
relaxed into a smile as he edged closer toward her.
‶
I am fine. ″

Miranda, knowing that she was a coward,
whispered,
‶
I
feel so tired, I think I shall nap.″ She closed her eyes upon his amused
expression and, to her surprise, found herself waking up hours later.

Her waking position was in Simon′s arms
and she hastily righted herself, but he did not allow her to edge to the other
side of the seat as she would have liked.
‶
Are you still feeling
well?″ she asked as the carriage jounced over a particularly bumpy
portion of the roadway.

‶
I did not marry you to acquire
a nurse.″ He took her into his arms and his lips began plying small,
disturbing kisses against the skin of her neck.

Miranda sat captive, able only to offer token
protest.
‶
A
wife must worry after her husband′s health .... ″

‶
Does that mean satisfying his
every need?″ His breath was warm on her ear as he spoke.

Miranda tried to keep her mind on the
conversation, to stop the strength from sapping from her limbs.
‶
Now
that I am your wife, Simon, I must see to your, comfort, your hunger — ″
She grasped the straw of hope that came to her.
‶
Are you hungry? Should we stop
for the basket of delicacies that Cook prepared?″

He laughed low in his throat, and she could
feel the vibration to her toes.
‶
We agreed not to stop, except
for fresh horses, but to press on so that we could reach home tonight. But I am
hungry, wife.″ His arms seemed to tighten around her infinitesimally.

‶
Should I unpack the basket
here, then?″ Miranda pulled away to reach for the wicker container stored
under the seat.

Simon pulled her back into his arms. His hands
were gentle and warm on her hips as he settled her in his lap. She looked up
into his eyes and recognized the passion glowing there. Her own senses ignited.

Feeling as if she was so warm she must burn him
wherever she touched, she smiled and held herself still. Was it seemly to
remember so vividly what had happened once, by mistake? To want it to happen
again? She fought the urge to lean forward and press her lips to his.
‶
If
you are hungry, Simon, I must feed you.″

Her heart beat harder when he leaned toward her
to whisper,
‶
Then
kiss me, Miranda, for I am hungry for your touch.″ His mouth took hers
with gentle persuasion, and Miranda found herself more than willing to return
the kiss. He did not seem to find her too hot to the touch, no matter how she
burned inside, because his hand quickly moved upward from her hip, past her
waist, toward her breast, and then slipped into her low bodice.

His other hand left her shoulder and she felt
his fingers brushing through her hair, making a tingling, melting sensation
flow from her scalp downward. He said softly,
‶
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, will you
let down your hair for me?″

Dimly understanding that he was asking far more
of her than his words suggested, still she could not speak. Her answer was to
lift her own oddly heavy arms and begin removing the pins. In a moment, her
hair was heavy upon her shoulders and Simon′s fingers combed through it
freely, every stroke of his fingers vibrating, magnifying inside her.

‶
What are you doing to
me?″ She gasped, at last frightened by the intensity of her pleasure.
‶
I
cannot breathe. I cannot move.″

Simon pulled back for a moment.
‶
Am
I crushing you?″

Miranda shook her head, feeling completely
unable to express what she was feeling.
‶
No. I just ... the pleasure ...
″

His eyes widened as he understood her dilemma,
and the smile of male pride mingled with desire might have irritated her if she
did not long for his lips upon hers so desperately.
‶
I had thought to
suggest cards as a way to spend our traveling time, but if this pastime pleases
you more, so be it.″

Without quite knowing how, Miranda found
herself shifted in such a way that she reclined halfway against the seat, Simon
half on his knees, half lightly but firmly atop her. His breathing was harder,
but his hands were still gentle. She quickly realized the advantage of their
new position as she felt the′ shocking heat of one of his hands against
her bare thigh, even as the other cupped her neck and his lips brought more
heat to hers.

As she daringly tried to imitate his kiss, and
darted her tongue between his lips, he groaned softly into her mouth. The hand
that cupped her nape slid lower, to her waist and his arm tightened, pressing
her closer to him. There was no way she would not burst into flame, but he did
not seem to know the danger he was in, and Miranda wondered, as she looked into
his glowing eyes, if he felt the same.

A stabbing pain in her side cleared the heated
fog of pleasure from her mind in an instant, and Miranda gasped and tried to
pull away. Simon′s arm tightened, and he murmured a protest.

She stilled instantly, afraid that his arms
would increase the pain in her side.

Unaware of the reason for her stillness, he
buried his mouth in her neck.
‶
Miranda, you are more than I dared to dream,″
he whispered, claiming her mouth with his so that she could not explain her
plight. She gasped in pain and began to writhe as her broken stay jabbed more
deeply into her. Her knees drew up and locked around Simon as she attempted to
keep him from tightening his embrace any further.

He broke the kiss for a moment to whisper
urgently,
‶
Miranda,
my love, we should not hurry this moment. ... ″ Before she could gather
the breath to speak, his mouth was again on hers, gentler now. But still his
restraining hands caused the stay to dig deeper and the pain was so unbearable
she could not suppress a moan.

Simon answered her moan with a low groan of his
own and pulled away to whisper,
‶
You are so beautiful.″

‶
My gown must come off.″
She gasped, but got no further before his mouth came down more passionately
upon hers.

Deciding that she would be better served to
struggle with her gown rather than with Simon, Miranda began tearing at the
buttons. Miraculously, he began to help, tearing at her clothing until she was
afraid the gown would be shredded. In no time, with the both of them working
frantically, the laces of the stays were undone.

Suddenly with a sharp cry, she found herself
free of the painful broken stay. Simon pulled back from her abruptly.
‶
What
is the matter? Have I hurt you?″

Miranda shook her head.
‶
My stay was broken
and we have just now disengaged it.″ She glanced down to see the expanse
of herself exposed to his sight and blushed.
‵
′I′m sorry to have
behaved in such an unseemly manner.″

His expression swept from a puzzled frown to a
short laugh.
‶
My
God. I thought I had transported you to frenzied passion, and you were merely
trying to escape a broken stay. Come, show me the injury.″

He examined the abrasion with a worried frown.

‶
It will heal, but I suspect you′ll
have a bruise in the morning.″

The feel of his hands brought back some of the
pleasure Miranda had felt before the pain of her broken stay. She was
disappointed when he lifted them away and stared at her accusingly.
‶
I
shall have the stay maker shot. These cannot be more than a week old at
most.″

‶
Oh, no, that pair was my
mother′s before it was mine. I should have replaced it years ago.″
He stared at her uncomprehendingly, his breathing still rough and ragged.
‶
I′m
sorry Simon, I thought it would hold until we reached your home. I had it taped
.... ″

‶
I thought I told you to have
whatever clothing you needed supplied by the milliners I sent from
London.″

‶
My sisters needed new stays
more than I,″ she confessed.
‶
I thought to do without for a
while longer.″

He frowned.
‶
No more taped stays for
you.″ His eyes swept her nude form and then, shockingly, he bent to press
his lips where the stay had scraped her skin. His lips were warm. Her heart
began a double beat, and every sound and feeling seemed magnified.
‶
Simon
— ″

‶
I want you.″ His lips
covered the distance from her bruised side to her breast and he gently took the
sensitive tip into his mouth. Impossibly, once again she found herself dizzy
from the heat that rushed through her.

She gasped.
‶
I want you, too.″ Her
surprise at her own boldness was quickly lost in the feel of his strong I
muscled shoulders, as she allowed her hands to roam his body as his roamed
hers.

And then the coach rolled to a stop. They had
barely enough time to shield Miranda from the coachman′s eyes before the
door was flung open.
‶
Welcome home, Your Grace.″

The chill evening air that had swirled in with
the opening of the carriage door brought a gasp from Miranda and a sharp return
to reality to Simon. Briskly, he sat up and began rearranging his clothing.
Fortunately, his servants were well-trained, and the door had shut almost as
quickly as it opened.

Chapter 9

He could hear Miranda frantically attempting to
arrange her own clothing, and he had no heart to tell her how fruitless her
attempts were. In the darkness, the clothing that had been so easily discarded
would be impossible to right. He distinctly remembered feeling tiny buttons
pelt his cheek when her bodice had finally given way.

A frantic elbow jabbed him in the ribs and a
knee connected painfully with his hip before he relented.
‶
Miranda,
I′m afraid the task is hopeless.″

She stilled, and the rustling of clothing
ceased so that he could hear the sob that caught in her breath.
‶
It
cannot be. I will not be seen like this by your ... our staff. What will they
think of me.″

As if on cue, there was a timid knock on the
carriage door.
‶
Your
Grace? Would you care to dismount —″

There was an awkward pause, which Simon used to
offer a thankful prayer that Miranda had no understanding of William′s
careless double entendre.

William′s strained voice began again.
‶
I mean, Your Grace, would you and your bride care for any assistance?″

Before he knew what she would do, Miranda said
imperiously,
‶
Please
hand in your lantern, my good man — and give me a few minutes. The pins have
fallen out of my hair from the jouncing of the journey.″ She opened the
door only enough to receive the lantern. The light, however, served to reveal
the disaster he had expected.

‶
Oh, my God, Simon. What have we
wrought?″ In the bright glow of the lantern, Simon could clearly see that
the fever that had engulfed both of them had left Miranda. She stared at him
with embarrassment and confusion, her hair down around her bared shoulders, her
arms clutching the remains of her bodice to cover her breasts.

Surprisingly, he felt his desire flood through
him again. If she did not look so much like a lost child, he would have ordered
William to give them a half hour of privacy. It took great strength for him to
remember that she was his bride and deserved a proper wedding night in a proper
bed.

‶
What shall we do?″
Miranda gave up trying to repair the disaster of her new traveling gown and
stared at him in complete dismay.
‶
I cannot be seen like
this!″

‶
On the contrary, my dear. I
believe I very much enjoy seeing you this way.″

Miranda′s gaze flicked with obvious
annoyance over his own clothing.
‶
Your attire looks no more
rumpled than one might expect from such a journey. But I look as though
...″ She blushed.

Reminding himself that Miranda was now his
duchess and suffering from the indignity of having been discovered in
dishabille
by a servant in her new home,
he put aside his own feelings for the moment. The night was young. And he was
certain he could return them both to their abandoned state as soon as he closed
the bedroom door behind them.

Swiftly, he covered her with his cloak and
lifted her into his arms. She protested, embarrassed, but he swept aside her
objections.
‶
It
is the bridegroom′s prerogative, Miranda, to carry his sleeping bride
into his home so that she might rest in comfort on her wedding night.″

‶
Sleeping ... ″ Her eyes
searched his for a moment, as if for the first time she was realizing that what
had passed between them in the carriage was not an isolated event. To his
delight, a small smile curved her lips as she obediently snuggled her head on
his shoulder and feigned sleep. For the first time since he had thrown caution
to the winds and decided to spend his last few months in England with Miranda,
he was unreservedly happy with his decision.

Mrs. Hoskins, the housekeeper, had lined the
servants in two neat rows to welcome his new duchess. Simon looked at her
apologetically.
‶
Tomorrow
will suffice for introductions, Mrs. Hoskins,″ he said softly, feeling the
rapid beat of Miranda′s heart.
‶
Her Grace is worn out from the
ride.″

For a moment, until she quickly bobbed her head
and curtsied to him, Simon thought he saw a tremor of shock cross her features.
But that could not be true. Mrs. Hoskins had never displayed anything but
respectful acknowledgment of his orders. In fact, he thought, as he surveyed
the line of servants, none of them had. As his eyes swept the row of servants,
they bobbed, hiding their faces from his scrutiny.

‶
Your Grace, might I inquire
—″ Dome, the butler, tried to accost him.

‶
Tomorrow, Dome.″ Simon
had no time for household matters at this moment, his intent went no further
than to carry Miranda upstairs, shut the door to his bedroom, and make love to
his willing wife. She was his wife for only the shortest of times and he wanted
her all to himself now.

Half way up the flight of stairs leading to the
second floor, a familiar, and unwelcome voice stopped him cold.
‶
Simon.
Where are you going in such haste?″ He turned slowly and faced his mother.

She nodded in greeting, her eyes on the cloaked
figure in his arms.
‶
The evening is early yet. Have you no time to spare
for a greeting to your mother?″

He did not answer, but stood there, unable to
move. Just as if they had never fallen out, she beckoned.

‶
Come, I would like to meet my
new daughter-in-law.″

He could feel the tension in Miranda′s
body, and a quick glance told him that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes
were focused self-consciously on her new mother-in-law.

‶
Let me down,″ she whispered.

He held her more tightly.

His mother′s eyes narrowed as she took in
the sight.

She turned her gaze upon Miranda.
‶
Some
men are so impatient, my dear. What we women must put up with.″ And then
she said shortly to Simon,
‶
Can′t you put the girl down, Simon? How long
have you been wed? Hours at most.″

‶
Miranda is exhausted, Mother. I
am helping her upstairs.″

‶
After you help her up the
stairs, Simon, will you tell her? Have you told her yet?″

He shook his head.
‶
That is none of
your business, Mother.″

‶
I beg to differ.″ She
focused once again on Miranda, and Simon panicked, afraid she would tell his
new bride everything.

‶
Wait in the study for me,
Mother,″ he commanded curtly. He quickly turned and proceeded up the
stairs.

Miranda looked at him questioningly.
‶
I
should go down. Why didn′t you warn me that your mother would be here? I
can′t imagine what she thinks of me!″

‶
What can she think of you, but
that you are a charmingly exhausted bride,″ he soothed her, though inside
he was raging. How dare his mother be here? How dare she? His letter had been
very clear. She was not to set foot in this home for the next six months.

He should have known that she would not heed
him.

He should have given clearer orders to Dome.

Damn his promise to the old duke. He could not
bar her from the house. The servants would talk.

‶
Simon, I don′t want to
begin badly with your mother.″

‶
There′s no need to worry,
my dear. No one could be on a worse footing with my mother than I am, nor she
with me.″

Miranda said nothing as he set her on her feet
in her own bedroom. He noticed that in accordance with his orders, the room had
been well polished, dusted and swept. There was no sign that this room had been
unoccupied since his own birth, when his mother moved into a different wing and
lived separately from his father.

‶
Simon, you should not speak
disrespectfully of your mother. It is not seemly.″

‶
Am I to take it that you are
the arbiter of what is seemly, Miranda?″ He smiled at the thought as she
stood before him with her traveling dress in tatters around her.

He was glad to see that she smiled at his
teasing, and did not take it amiss. They were comfortable together, and it
pleased him. Though soon he intended to show her there could be more than
comfortable companionship between a man and a woman.
‶
Why don′t you
prepare for bed as soon as the maid comes up with your things. I will be back
shortly.″

‶
Don′t be ridiculous. I
intend to come down as soon as I am presentable.″

That was the last thing he needed.
‶
There
is no need. My mother was told that she is not welcome here. She requires no
greeting, and I hope she will be gone by morning.″

‶
I am sorry there is a rift
between you and your mother, but I cannot allow it to continue. After all, if
you — ″ She could not quite bring herself to say it, which was a relief
to him. Lies upon lies.

But he didn′t care. He wanted her and now
he had her. She was his wife, and his mother was leaving. There was nothing
more to be said about the matter — except to make the situation clear to his
mother. He left Miranda to make herself ready for the night and went to beard
the lioness in what was no longer her den.

She nodded her head in his direction as he
entered the room.
‶
Your bride — what little I saw of her, seems
charming, Simon.″

‶
Mother, I gave you specific
instructions not to come here.″

‶
Yes, Simon, I know. But it is
fortunate that I am here.″

‶
And how is that?″ he
asked coldly, willing his anger to subside. He did not want to go up to Miranda
with this rage inside him. He needed to treat his new bride gently.

‶
If you plan to go ahead with
this foolish idea of disappearing from the face of the earth, you cannot afford
to create a child. You cannot make love to your wife.″

Simon was shocked by her blatant statement
almost as much as he was dismayed by it. He refused to discuss with her his
knowledge of the measures to ensure there would be no child from his brief
marriage.
‶
That
is not your concern, Mother.″

‶
It is not my concern?″
Her voice rose. Simon realized that it had been years since he had seen a break
in the icy composure she cultivated. His marriage must be more disturbing to
her than he had realized it would be. Good. It would serve her right to see
what she had denied him a lifetime of: family.

There was a discernible tremor in her voice as
she continued.
‶
Simon,
nothing would delight me more than for you to get a child upon your wife. For
then your foolish plans would die stillborn.″

He opened his mouth to deny her words but she
gave him no chance.
‶
Could you deny a child of your own his birthright?
Could that girl upstairs? And what would you tell her?″

‶
There are ways to prevent a
child, Mother.″ He had not meant to say it aloud. Not to her. For a
moment, though, he had felt like a child caught in an act of folly.

‶
Yes,″ she said with a depth
of bitterness that he had not expected,
‶
And I can tell you, you would
not be here if they were infallible.″

He looked at her in shock. Though he had hated
her for a long time, he found he hated her even more now. And he hated himself.
For her words revealed him to himself — as a fool. Who knew the number of
lovers she had had over the years? And she had never borne a child from her
liaisons. Except for Simon himself.

If he used every trick he had learned to
prevent conception he could not be absolutely certain there would be no child.
And that was only if he used the tricks. He shuddered as he remembered the
carriage ride home. He had not thought once of the French letter in his pocket.
He doubted, if they had been granted the time to complete their lovemaking,
that he would have withdrawn in time.

He saw his mother′s triumphant smile. She
knew him too well, all those years when he had not known of her treachery and
he had exposed his soul to her and thought that she nurtured it. She knew him
too well.

He fought her with the only weapon he had,
keeping his expression as unreadable as possible.
‶
You have cast your
final stone, Mother. It is time for you to go home. Or do you forget this is no
longer your home?″

She did not even blink, although her lip curled
up in disdain.
‶
I
have no intention of going home, Simon. What have you told the girl? Have you
prepared her at all?″

He did not want to answer, but something in her
expression dragged the words from him.
‶
I have told her that I am
dying.″

‶
Dying!″ In the lamplight,
her skin seemed to lose all color.
‶
It is not true?″

‶
No. It is a lie.″ He
shrugged.
‶
It
was simpler in the end.″

‶
And she married you
anyway?″ His mother′s head tilted to the side, her eyes took on a
thoughtful look.
‶
Probably hoping to get an heir from you before you
die. She could then run through the estate during his minority.″

Stung, Simon retorted before he could stop
himself,
‶
Miranda
married me because she was convinced she could find a cure for my
‵
illness,′
mother. She is not like you.″

‶
Indeed.″ As if he
hadn′t just grossly insulted her, the dowager duchess said quietly,
‶
I
would like to meet her, Simon. Very much I would like to meet the woman who was
willing to marry you, knowing that you were dying, hoping to bring you a cure.
Poor thing.″