Dangerous Secrets (80 page)

But there was no doubt that these parties had
been successful affairs for all but the host and hostess. In fact, it was to
her credit that no one realized how much she hated her husband.
‶
She
has a great deal of experience. I daresay she could impress Grimthorpe
himself.″

Her mouth quirked downward.
‶
Shall
we invite him also, then?″

‶
By all means. We have nothing
to hide — or so we shall have them all believing before the weekend is
through.″

Her brow wrinkled and he longed to bend and
brush it smooth with his lips.
‶
Do you suppose he still has my boots?″

He knew what she feared — that Grimthorpe would
somehow brew a new scandal.
‶
It matters little, now. You are my wife.″

‶
I suppose it is too late to
cause trouble with a pair of old boots.″ The doubt did not entirely erase
from her face.

‶
No doubt, if he hasn′t
already thrown them away, he′s given them to one of his servants.″

She nodded, but he could feel the worry
radiating from her.

‶
The best way to ensure
Grimthorpe′s gossip is neutralized is to have you quickly accepted back
into society.″ Knowing her weaknesses well, he urged,
‶
We
must be bold about introducing you. You do not want your sisters to suffer
because of rumors and gossip, do you?″

‶
You are right. We will be
bold.″ She turned her lips up in a half smile.
‶
Although, perhaps I
shall temper my boldness with a touch of wisdom. Katherine, as a former
vicar′s wife, has much to teach me about patience.″

She stretched up on the tip of her toes to
press a kiss to his lips.

Fortunately, before he could move his arms to
her waist and capture her against him, she slipped away.
‶
I
must tell Katherine and Betsy the good news.″

***

‶
Curing someone who will not
even admit the possibility for cure is difficult, Your Grace.″
Katherine′s tone was grave, but her color was no longer pale. In fact,
her cheeks had actually taken on color rather rapidly when she learned what
Simon′s objections had been.
‶
I didn′t realize ... in
our discussions he made it seem that he wanted someone with experience.″
Her mouth twisted with uncharacteristic bitterness.
‶
I should have
realized ... everyone thinks such things.″

‶
I don′t,″ Miranda
comforted her.

Katherine smiled in response.
‶
Thank
you for giving me a chance. Ever since my husband died and Betsy and I came
back to live with my father, I have known what others suspect of me. I just
don′t know how to make them realize it isn′t true. I′ve tried
speaking the way they do, dressing the way they do, helping them. But nothing
seems to work.″

‶
What happened to you
wasn′t fair. You went out of your way to be kind to others, you deserve
to be rewarded like the good kind sister in Mother Holle and be showered with
gold. Instead you are showered with pitch, as if you were lazy and
unkind.″

Katherine laughed.
‶
It is not so bad. I
am paid for healing, and the money helped Da buy a cow and some chickens. We
are better off than many. Perhaps that is why the lies persist.″

Miranda understood too well how that might
happen. And it was a worry she must overcome before her house was overrun by
those who would delight in her social downfall.
‶
Well, Simon now knows the
truth. About you, and about my motives for bringing you to work for me. And, as
I had feared, he has forbidden you to concoct any tonic for him.″

Katherine pressed her hand against
Miranda′s.
‶
I′m sorry.″

‶
Not that I will let his
reluctance stay me — he will die if we do nothing. We shall just have to be
cautious.″

‶
Perhaps we should simply tell
him the truth?″ Katherine′s voice was gentle, and her sojourn as a
vicar′s wife came through clearly. Miranda squirmed under the patient
gaze, unwilling to give up any chance that Simon might have.

Betsy stirred and whimpered. The child, unaware
of the reprieve she and her mother had been given, lay flushed and still upon a
chair. It was perhaps for that reason that Katherine′s hushed tone
conveyed so much concern.
‶
Any patient, duke or no, must want to be
well.″

Miranda sighed.
‶
I know. But for now, I shall
have to do the wishing for Simon. He is beyond influence about his chances for
survival.″

Katherine nodded.
‶
He is a lucky man,
if only he knew it.″ She rose to her feet.
‶
It would help if I knew what
ailed him.″

‶
He will tell me naught. But
when we ... ″ Miranda broke off, blushing.
‶
When we are close, his heart
beats impossibly fast, his breathing becomes labored, and his face becomes
quite flushed.″

Katherine searched Miranda′s face.
‶
More
so than usual?″

Her face must have revealed her confusion,
because when she did not answer, Katherine waved her hand dismissively.
‶
Never
mind. We shall both watch him from now on. Any unusual behavior, temperament,
or daily habits shall be noted down so I may find out what is wrong with
him.″

With a tired smile, Katherine scooped her
sleeping daughter up into her arms.
‶
I had best get this little one
tucked in for her nap.″

‶
Yes.″ Miranda smoothed a
stray lock of Betsy′s hair, as she might have done to a sleeping Kate.
‶
You
and Betsy have a place here with us from now on.″

‶
Less than a month to prepare a
house party to reintroduce you to polite society? And I suppose it must be
perfect? How very like Simon to set such an absurd standard.″

Chapter 15

The dowager sat at a fragile cherrywood writing
desk, a pile of invitations in front of her, her quill waving through the air
for emphasis as she spoke.

Miranda wondered, not for the first time, if
she would be better served to permanently alienate the dowager, rather than
attempt a reconciliation between Simon and his mother. She smiled with strained
patience.
‶
We
certainly have made a good start on it in these last weeks. I thank you for
your help, despite the need to do so much so quickly. It′s just that
there are considerations ...″

The dowager raised one elegant eyebrow,
reminding Miranda uncannily of Simon.
‶
Such as the haste of your
marriage? The scandal you fear? Your five younger sisters, two of whom must be
brought out quickly and well?″

Miranda thought she had hidden her anger — and
astonishment — well, until the dowager continued.
‶
My dear,
don′t look surprised. I am very well informed--even if not kept so by my
son. And never fear. I am very organized. We shall be the talk of the
season.″

She couldn′t help wondering if that would
be a good thing or not, but she kept her reservations to herself, and if she
somehow let them show on her face, the dowager was mercifully tactful enough
not to bring it to her attention again.

In the last few weeks they had planned a menu,
entertainment and — most importantly — a guest list. Miranda found herself
reluctant to make the decisions and deferred to the dowager on almost all
things — where the dowager would allow the decision to be deferred, of course.
All that was left to be done was pen the invitations.

‶
Are you certain you want to
include him?″ The dowager pointed to Giles Grimthorpe′s neatly
penned name.

‶
Simon thinks it best.″
Miranda was annoyed at her own timidity. She had agreed with him, so why
hadn′t she said,
we
think it
best? What was it about the dowager that made her feel as if she were back in
the schoolroom?

‶
Yes, I can see his point. He is
a relative, after all.″

The dowager brushed the feathered edge of the
quill against the underside of her chin.
‶
Still, it makes for an awkward
weekend.″

Miranda shrugged her shoulders.
‶
I
suspect the entire weekend will be unpleasant.″

‶
I meant awkward in the sense of
where to place his room, and who to seat him near at table, child.″ She
did not hide her amusement — or her condescension.

‶
I meant unpleasant in that he —
and everyone else — shall be whispering and buzzing about the rumor that
something untoward happened between us five years ago and hoping for a scandal.
If they even deign to attend.″

‶
Of course they will attend. The
hint of past scandal as well as the curiosity about Simon′s new duchess
will ensure that.″ The dowager seemed to find that an encouraging fact.

Miranda nodded miserably, trying to maintain
the stiff upper lip the dowager so admired at the thought that she would be on
exhibit like an ancient ruin for the pleasure of her guests.

The dowager said sharply,
‶
And
they will whisper, as well, but you will deal with that.″

‶
I will do my best.″ Of
course, her best had not been good enough five years ago. Had she learned
enough cloistered at Anderlin, selling candlesticks and jewelry and raising her
sisters, to handle London society again? Even with Simon′s protection and
in her own home?

She would feel safer back on the street where
that awful man had relieved her of Anderlin′s candlesticks and her
mother′s necklace. Those things were much less precious than the secrets
that she had to guard now from the gossipmongers. How titillating they would
find it that the Duke of Kerstone was ill — too ill to make love to his wife.
Worse, would the rakes consider her sisters fair game?

As if sensing her concerns, the dowager
commented with acerbity,
‶
I trust that you have learned to control your own
behavior. Have you spoken to your sisters? It would be unfortunate to have one
of them repeat the lesson you have already learned.″

‶
Yes, I have warned my sisters.
But I would prefer to protect them by not exposing them to such potential for
predation. I would not mind canceling these plans and never going into
‵
polite′
society again.″

The dowager′s disapproval tinged her
words with ice.
‶
That
is not the attitude of a duchess.″

Miranda acknowledged the rebuke with a sigh.
‶
It
has been some time since I was in society, and that was only for a brief part
of one season.″ And even then she had not coveted the position of
duchess, which according to the dowager, required one to never allow any room
for evil to been seen or spoken of in connection with oneself.

At times she felt very much like the
miller′s daughter, pretending to spin straw in to gold and any moment
waiting to be found out as a fraud. Only Miranda′s Rumplestiltskin did
not want her firstborn son — he wanted her husband′s good name destroyed.

The dowager looked up. Her sharp eyes seemed to
pick at the threads of Miranda′s frayed nerves.
‶
When do your
sisters arrive? It is a wonderful tonic to have others to look after.″

Miranda could not help but smile at the thought
of the five females due to turn this sedate home into a beehive of activity.
‶
They
arrive tomorrow. Though perhaps you will wish them away the day after.″

To Miranda′s surprise, the
dowager′s expression grew distant and her lips curved upward slightly.
‶
Five
young girls running through these halls. Sinclair would never have countenanced
it. He did not value girl children.″

Miranda did not want to encourage the dowager
to speak disrespectfully of her dead husband. She found herself all too easily
picturing the man as a monster, and that could not be true.
‶
Surely
he would have loved a daughter, if you and he had been blessed with more
children.″

A brief flicker of pain crossed the
dowager′s face.
‵
′That would have been a miracle, indeed. More
children. Sinclair did not need more children. He had Simon.″

‶
Did you not ever wish for
another child?″

The dowager′s intensity surprised her.
‶
Every
day.″

Instantly, as if she regretted her revelation,
she shuttered her features and gave a cold smile.
‶
Children running
through the house, the gardens, through the kitchens; they would have driven
Sinclair to his grave much, much sooner.″

The words shredded Miranda′s anticipation
of her sister′s visit.
‶
Do you think they will have an ill effect on
Simon?″ She had not considered that the noise and flurry of activity that
her sisters would bring might be detrimental to Simon′s health.

The dowager knocked the pile of invitations
askew with an awkward jerk of her hand, so very different from her normally
elegant movements.
‶
He always begged for brothers and sisters when he
was small.″ She quickly rearranged the stack of invitations until the
edges were even and straight.
‶
Now he will have to cope. I′m certain he
can.″

‶
He seems to be looking forward
to seeing them again.″

The dowager touched the edge of one invitation.
‶
Your
sisters will need gowns and all the necessities. Simon has not overlooked that
detail, has he?″

‶
No, indeed,″ Miranda
laughed.
‶
The
girls arrive tomorrow and the modiste arrives the day after. Simon says she and
her seamstresses are not to leave until my sisters are completely
outfitted.″

‶
It is a shame he will not be
here to run Kerstone. He has a natural talent for the job.″

Miranda sat silent, unsure how to respond to
the unexpected emotion. When their eyes met, they held for a moment. Miranda
felt compelled to reach out and pat the other woman′s arm.

The dowager′s eyes widened slightly and
she regained her composure with a prim frown, but her hand came up to give
Miranda′s a quick squeeze.
‶
He is even better at it than
Sinclair was, and though I despised the man, he was a good overlord to his estates.″

She was silent for a moment, as if
contemplating the possibility.
‶
Of course, he would never have thought of arranging
for the outfitting of females.″ She sighed.
‶
It is a pity that
my son is depriving Kerstone of his leadership.″

Miranda felt the wall rise up between them
again, just when she had felt that she′d removed a stone or two. The
dowager seemed to blame Simon for his illness.
‶
He has no choice.″

Haughty condescension was back in place, as if
there had not been any vulnerable emotion moments ago.
‶
You think
not?″

‶
Perhaps he could make some
attempts to treat his symptoms, but it is the mark of his care for his
responsibilities that he tries to ensure everyone else will be taken care of
when he is gone.″ Miranda blinked back tears at the thought.
‶
That
is why he is working hard to train Arthur—″

The dowager′s eyebrows lifted
quizzically.
‶
Yes,
he is working diligently at making a man of that meek mouse. You seem an
intelligent girl. Isn′t it obvious to you that he is wasting his efforts?
He would be better served to train a manager to manage Arthur than to try to
train Arthur to manage anything but his precious library.″

Miranda was inclined to agree, but loyalty
prevented her.
‶
Arthur
works very hard to learn what Simon must teach him about running the
estates.″

The dowager conceded the point.
‶
It
is only too unfortunate that he does not have more of the warrior and less of
the chivalrous nature of his namesake about him. I suppose, though, that he is
the best that Simon can do.″

‶
What do you mean?″

‶
He scoured the country for any
and all Watterly cousins.″ She crumpled an invitation on which she had
evidently made a blot.
‶
Of course, they do seem to be a feeble lot.″

Miranda′s curiosity was piqued. Simon had
refused to talk about his difficult search for heirs.
‶
Did you know any of
the other heirs?″

‶
No. None actually arrived here.
One died en route in a carriage accident, and two succumbed to the grippe just
before Simon′s agent located them. He was quite put out.″ She
looked at Miranda austerely.

‶
How odd that they should die so
conveniently.″

‶
I believe Simon hired an
enquiry agent to make certain there was no sign of foul play.″

Miranda wondered if she should confess to the
dowager that not only had Simon set an enquiry agent to look into the deaths of
his distant cousins, but she had sent an enquiry agent to find out whether
Simon′s brother Peter might actually have left an unknown wife and child
behind.

She decided against it, after a moment′s
consideration. After all, it had been weeks with no word from the man. There
was no point in getting anyone′s hopes up for such an unlikely
possibility.

But from every evidence she could see, Arthur
himself was not thrilled with his own status of heir. His somewhat endearingly
direct comments about children and the patter of little feet bordered on
begging Miranda to give birth to a houseful of heirs for Simon.

She had found that he enjoyed collecting old
manuscripts. She could imagine his relief if a son was born to Simon. He would
be back to his books and his dusty library before the babe′s first cry
echoed in the portrait gallery. But babes were not conceived by husbands and
wives who did not make love.

With a sigh, she crumpled the invitation she
had just ruined with a careless blot of her pen. She closed her eyes and
listened to the scratch of the dowager′s pen against parchment.

Resolutely, she cleared her head of thoughts
she could do nothing about and began writing again in a careful, flowing script
her mother would have exclaimed with pride over. Duchess of Kerstone. Yes, her
mother would have been pleased.

She thought of the life her sisters would bring
to this austere home tomorrow. Swift upon the heels of that thought was the
worry that Simon′s health would be adversely affected. Well, then, Katherine
and she would need to be even more observant than they had been. Not that there
had been much to discover.

She wondered if Simon had tried the tea she had
brought him this morning. The brew had smelled quite awful even with the lemon
and sugar they had to add to make the odor more inviting, but Katherine thought
it might help.

Try as she might to see Simon′s point of
view, she could not see the harm in drinking a cup of herbal tea. But his
warning still rang in her ears — he did not want to be dosed.

When he had raised an eyebrow at the tea, she
had forced herself to lie and say that Cook had over brewed it. She wondered if
he had believed her. At least, if he had not, he made no protest. She took
comfort in that small victory.

***

‶
There is a gentleman to see
you, Your Grace.″

Dome could not hide his disapproval — or,
Miranda speculated, he chose not to hide it.

‶
May I see his card?″
Miranda held out her hand.

‵
′I′m afraid he has
none, Your Grace.″ Dome paused, his face impassive except for the twitch of
his nostrils.
‶
He
is an ... American.″