Dangerous Secrets (76 page)

He felt remorse for the course he had set by
marrying her. But he ruthlessly crushed it. He had made a mistake and they
would both pay for it. He could not make love with her and he could not trust
himself not to take her to his bed. She would need to exert the control that
would keep them apart and prevent a child of his bastard blood from inheriting.

‶
Had you no luck?″ The
dowager duchess stood in the hallway, as if she were still the house′s
mistress and going about the unappetizing chore of questioning the help. Her
spine was straight; there was not a wrinkle in her glossy black silk skirts.
Her dark gray eyes bored deep, as if to delve the depths of Miranda′s

Chapter 11

Despite the older woman′s air of
composure and command, Miranda had the odd impression the dowager had been
standing there, unmoving, ever since Miranda had left the house.

‶
What did you say to him? He was
not in the least unhappy until he spoke to you.″ The harsh words came
unbidden. Though she was horror-struck at her own audacity, she was still
reeling from Simon′s painful rejection, unable to temper her words with
the respect due the dowager′s position.

Most frustrating of all, from her perspective,
was the ambiguity of her mother-in-law′s expression. The older
woman′s face was serene, as if she had asked after her son′s choice
of apparel for the day — as if Miranda′s reply had been coolly civil and
not flagrantly rude and angry.

Nothing in the woman′s expression seemed
concerned, yet there was an air of expectancy emanating from her as she said,
‶
The
question seems more to be — what did he say to you?″

Even though the dowager waited silently for her
answer, Miranda could feel the other woman′s eager impatience as if it
were a force of its own. And yet her features were so composed that she gave
the impression of a pond that had frozen over. Had this woman no heart? To
distress her dying son in this manner and then act as if she were blameless?

Reining in her temper, she answered as politely
as she could manage,
‶
He will be in shortly.″

‶
What a pity.″ Again, the
dowager′s face held no clue to her thoughts.

Miranda, her temper at the boiling point, had
no notion of how to respond to such blatant incivility. She finally decided to
do her best to match the dowager′s
sangfroid
.
‶
I
feel certain you will excuse my wish to retire now.″

The dowager smiled, a simple lift of her mouth.
‶
I
had held some hope that the young woman who persuaded Simon to marry her at
this juncture of his life could persuade him to be civil to his mother.″

Miranda stood rooted to the spot. For a moment
she thought she had not heard correctly. Stiffly, she responded to the dowager′s
attack.
‶
My
concern at this point, as I′m sure you understand, is his health.″

Though she had sworn to herself not to lose her
temper again, she could not resist adding,
‶
I don′t pretend to
understand what is behind his behavior toward you, Your Grace, but I cannot
worry about that when he is dying.″

‶
It is all that I can worry
about.″ The deprecating smile was so fleeting that Miranda almost
believed she had imagined the slight quirk of the dowager′s mouth.

Her temper flared, and she was too exhausted to
fight it anymore.
‶
Do you not care about him?″

The anger that she was poised to vent
disappeared in an instant, though, at the sadness that shadowed the
dowager′s features as she spoke.
‶
I regret that our relationship
must be unmended should I never see him again.″

It seemed a cold way to discuss her son′s
death, as if he might simply be leaving for an extended trip.
‶
That
is between the two of you. For my part, I can only do what Simon will
not.″

‶
Indeed?″ The
dowager′s brow rose.
‶
And what is that?″

‶
He will not consider doctors,
apparently they have failed him in the past. So I have found someone to
minister to him.″

The instant the words were out of her mouth,
Miranda regretted them. She had not confided her actions to Simon, yet she had
just told his mother, knowing the two of them could not bear to be in the same
room with each other.

Though the dowager seemed not to move, her
skirts rippled slightly, as if she had suppressed a start of surprise.
‶
Simon
has agreed to this?″

‶
He has been disappointed by
doctors, he says. But a healer is a different cup of tea,″ Miranda
sidestepped, not wanting to divulge any more to the woman Simon so obviously
didn′t trust.

As if sensing that Miranda did not want to lie,
the dowager would not be put off. She leaned toward Miranda and fixed her with
a stare.
‶
Does
he know?″ her voice had the stern tone of Miranda′s old nanny.

Responding to both the tone, and the need to
explain what she intended for Simon, Miranda looked steadily at the silver
locket that hung starkly against the dowager′s black silk.
‶
I
hadn′t intended to tell him the exact purpose this person will
serve.″

The dowager leaned back and sighed, almost as
if she were a tutor who had been disappointed by an errant pupil.
‶
Dishonesty
so soon, my dear? Whatever will Simon say?″

Miranda felt as if she were five again, and
being scolded for not confessing her part in a midnight raid on the biscuits in
the kitchen.
‶
My
concern is Simon. I believe that he will resist the healing if he knows about
it.″

‶
Indeed?″

Miranda blushed lightly. It was embarrassing to
speak to his mother, who had known him all his life, as if she knew Simon well.

But her feeling about this was strong, and
soon, when Katherine arrived, there would be someone to agree with or dispute
her deeply-held belief that Simon was preventing his own recovery.
‶
I
think he is not pursuing all the avenues available to him for a cure, for some
reason. I cannot help but hope, like Briar Rose, a curse of death has been laid
upon him and can be lifted.″

Again, Miranda looked up to meet the
dowager′s intense gray eyes. The woman′s words were softly spoken,
yet there was a tension within her that Miranda could not fathom.
‶
You
are a very perceptive young woman. I wonder if Simon knows just how perceptive
a young woman he so rashly married?″

Uncertain of the meaning of the dowager′s
words, Miranda answered lamely,
‶
I have never considered Simon
rash.″

‶
And yet he chose one day,
without warning, to cast his own mother out of his life.″

Miranda had been taught to respect her elders,
but caught between Simon and his mother, she knew she must defend her husband.
‶
I
cannot think the problem all rests with Simon,″ she addressed the dowager
duchess warily.
‶
In
the short time I have known him, I have given him several reasons to hold me in
contempt and he has always listened to my explanation and understood – as best
he could – my reasoning, faulty thought he might think it.″

‶
Indeed?″ The
dowager′s right eyebrow lifted elegantly.
‶
Certainly he has refused to
listen to me. But then, I talk plainly, and not all people care to hear the
truth.″

Miranda bit back a harsh defense of Simon and
said mildly,
‶
Perhaps,
but I have always found Simon to be above all interested in the truth.″

As she stood in the doorway, with the cold
night air encroaching from the hallway, she found herself no longer in such
pain over Simon′s rejection. This was a house of coldness that sprang
from more than the night air. There was much more here than was fathomable in
one night.

Whatever drove Simon to refuse a doctor′s
help with his illness had its root here in this house, and with his
relationship with his mother. Miranda hoped she would be equal to the challenge
of divining what ailed Simon′s body – as well as his soul.

There was a flash of some emotion in the
dowager′s eyes that was quickly masked by her enigmatic expression.
‶
Be
cautious child, thinking you know any man. They are all capable of bending
truth to the breaking point if it suits their needs.″

‶
Not Simon,″ Miranda
countered flatly.

The dowager smiled.
‶
You are very young,
my dear.″

‶
Good night, Your Grace.″
With a weak smile and a nod of her head, she turned and fled up the stairs to
her new room and her new bed. Somehow, the thought was not quite so appealing
now that she knew Simon had been diverted from his initial intentions.

Hours later, as she sat listening, unable to
relax, she heard muffled sounds from the room adjoining hers. Murmured voices —
Simon and his valet. A thump as something hit the floor — a boot? Two? And
then, presently, silence. She waited, but there was no indication that he even
glanced at the door between them, never mind thought to come through it.

***

She woke from her fitful sleep, forgetting for
a moment where she was. She lay half awake, half asleep, unable to pinpoint
what had disturbed her. The bed was strange, not her own familiar little one
with its cheery yellow curtains.

Behind the massive oak-paneled door that joined
her chamber with Simon′s, she heard the faint sounds of groaning.
Instantly she came fully awake. She heard nothing more. Could it have been her
imagination? What if Simon needed her? She stared at the door. Unable to deny
her worries, she slipped quietly to the door, careful not to use a candle lest
the light disturb Simon. As the door silently opened into the other room, she
heard no more groans.

Still, a nagging worry made her creep into the
room, until she was at the foot of the bed. He lay there, his even breathing a
testament to his current well-being. Miranda felt a knot of fear ease and she
turned to go.

Just then, Simon groaned again softly. Miranda
halted. He had said nothing to her of pain, but surely there must be some?

Through the dim moonlight, she could see that
he was restless as he slept, his bedcovers were twisted and pulled askew. Her
heart went out to him. Even in his sleep he could not be at peace, his illness
still touched him.

The need to soothe him was too strong to
resist. Cautiously, she approached the bed. Simon′s face was in the
shadows. The moonlight illuminated only a cheek and a wing of his golden hair,
giving him a magical, illusive air. She reached out to touch his face and
reassure herself that he was real, and without warning, found herself staring
into his alert gaze.

His voice was soft.
‶
Have you come to
tell me a bedtime tale? What one have you chosen? Goldilocks and the three
bears? The child who′s so bold as to go wherever she will?″

‶
There is no need for you to be
sarcastic. I have every right to worry for your health. I am your wife.″

‶
I have not forgotten our
marriage.″ He was silent for a moment, staring into her eyes as if he
could not look away. And then he sighed and turned his back to her.
‶
I
am well enough, just bedeviled.″

‶
Is the pain so awful?″
Miranda bit her lip, afraid to hear the answer. Simon coughed. If the subject
had not been so serious, she might have thought that he was hiding amusement.
No, it was a trick of the night.

His voice was gruff and rasped out at her.
‶
Almost
unbearable right at this moment. But I am sure it will ease if only I could
know that you slept soundly.″

‶
Perhaps if I remain here
tonight?″ The idea came to her unbidden and she was suddenly warm, even
in the night chill. She smiled.
‶
Didn′t Goldilocks try out
all the beds?″ It was a pleasant thought, lying next to him, being held
in his arms. Perhaps even —

‶
No. And, if you remember,
Goldilocks ran screaming from the bed in terror.″

The cold rejection hurt more than Miranda
expected, although after the events in the stable, she had been forewarned.
Still, she was reluctant to release her pleasant dream.
‶
But I could —
″

He turned back to face her and sat up slightly,
so that his whole face was lit by moonlight.
‶
Believe me, Miranda, you would
cause me greater pain that way.″

She found her gaze caught by the smooth bare
shoulder the moon exposed with its silver light.
‶
I should have realized
that.″ She admired him for keeping the depths of his pain a secret from
her. That having her next to him would hurt had never crossed her mind.

She laughed, as if to make light of her suggestion.
‶
I
suppose it is just that I feel so alone here. There are no sisters to slip into
my room and ask for a drink of water or a story. I am not used to being so ...
unnecessary.″

He was silent for a long moment and she met his
steady eyes. It made her shiver to see the same intensity that had been in the
dowager′s eyes only hours before. He said,
‶
I have told you before,
Miranda. I do not need a mother — not even the one I already have.″

‶
I know, Simon. I don′t
want to be your mother. I want to be your wife.″

He sighed.
‶
Please, go to sleep now. I
promise I shall introduce you to your new home properly tomorrow. Such an
introduction will require you to be well rested. I can′t have my servants
thinking their new mistress is dull and foolish, can I?″

Miranda sighed in unconscious imitation of him,
seeing the sense in his words and trying hard not to be too disappointed.
‶
Very
well. I shall see that your mother is gone in the morning.″

‶
If you can dislodge that woman
before she is ready to go, I really will begin to believe in happy
endings.″

She smiled.
‶
Then you will believe in them
very soon. I′ll leave you to rest.″ Impulsively, she bent to kiss
him. Her hands came down on his shoulders to brace herself for the light peck
on the cheek she intended. But the feel of warm bare skin under her fingers
send a shock of wanting coursing through her and she sought his lips instead.