Dangerous Secrets (84 page)

She was soft and warm and seemed to come alive
at his touch. He felt a flare of possession as a rush of quickened breath warmed
his cheek and earlobe. He reached for the heat of her and found it, was
rewarded with a moan like the low wild sound of the wind just as the storm
approaches. He released his own groan to entwine and mingle with the moan until
there was nothing left of the sound but a fierce vibration in his very core.

He bent his head and filled his mouth with
softness, roundness, heat. A rough, pleasurable pressure built in him as their
one flesh began to undulate in a primitive rhythm and he held to the dream
farther than he ever had before, unable to give in to the need to wake and
learn that there was no one next to him, no heat, no flesh melded with his.

And he touched her with his hands, his mouth;
there was no part of him that did not touch her, that did not feel her swell
with passion and know that passion himself. He did not want the dream to end,
even when their body, her body, began to quiver and she whispered his name in
his ear.
‶
Simon,″
she said.

‶
Simon,″ she screamed,
softly and their bodies shattered apart as he woke to the feel of her beneath
him and knew that he was not dreaming.

She protested his retreat, wrapping her arms
and legs around him. He hesitated, his body not yet his to control. And then he
felt the tide of pleasure take her; her arms clutched him tight against her and
she murmured against his ear.
‶
I love you, Simon.″

His body went cold in an instant and he raised
his head to look into her eyes. They were open. Somehow, her words had given
him the strength he needed to halt himself on the edge of a pleasurable abyss.
He felt an absurd sense of panic as he pleaded, even as he knew it was futile,
even as he mastered himself and his own need,
‶
Tell me you are a dream,
Miranda.″

Her hands drifted up his side, deepening the
feeling that he was on the verge of going mad.
‶
I′m not a dream. I
promise to be still, Simon. As still as you need me to be. I will not be too
wild. I promise.″

She tried to pull him back down to her, with
gentle pressure on his shoulders. To his distress, he found he had barely enough
strength to fight the insistent press of her fingers. A hoarse cry escaped him
as he twisted away and left the bed.

He felt like a fool, standing nude and
shivering in the cool breeze, afraid to come any nearer the bed where she lay.
Even the distance between them gave him no sense of safety. He knew how easy it
would be for him to slip back between the covers and finish what he had
started.

She sat up in the bed. He guessed her
expression to be puzzled, although, mercifully, he could not see her face from
so far away in the night-shadowed room.
‶
Simon, what′s wrong? Are
you ill?″ He could hear her voice shedding the thickness of her passion,
her pleasure. He felt a fierce flow of pride that he had given her release,
even if he had achieved none of his own.

‶
Go back to your room.″ He
did not trust himself to say more.

She made a movement, as if she might rise off
the bed and come toward him.
‶
But why —?″

‶
Now!″ He supposed the
savagery he felt had been in the tone of his words for she ceased her arguments
and rose from the bed.

He held his breath as the moonlight caught her
in the instant it took for the hem of her nightshift to fall to her feet. The
shift itself did nothing to hide the outline of her body. And then she was gone
through the door. He heard it close gently and wondered what she must think of
him.

She no longer knew what to think.

Chapter 19

The stone of the garden bench was cool beneath
her in the dawn′s pale light. But the quiet of the morning had not calmed
her churning fears. He had almost made love to her. He had reached for her in
the dark, entwined himself around her body and her heart, loved her as she
wished to be loved.

She closed her eyes against the tears that came
despite her battle to remain dry-eyed and rational. His touch had been so
tender and fierce at the same time — she had shattered beneath him only to find
a surprising peace. And then that peace had been torn away in an instant by his
harsh withdrawal. How could he have made her feel as if she had truly joined
with him into one soul and not felt it himself?

Was it fear? And if so, why was he afraid to
make love to her if he was convinced he would die shortly, anyway? He was no
coward, she knew it deep inside her with a certainty that was absolute. Could
his pride be the barrier between them?

Katherine said that a man could be afraid of
failing at lovemaking. But if he roused her to such fever with only the touch
of his lips and hands, how could he ever fail her?

Could it be that he was afraid he would fail
himself? Voices startled her out of her seat like a frightened hare. She could
not be found here, not now. No doubt her eyes and nose were red and swollen
from her tears. Questions would be unbearable, and gossip only a further insult
to her own wounded pride.

As the intruders neared, she hid herself behind
a box hedge and wished them away. It was only as she recognized the dowager and
her American approaching that Miranda tore her thoughts away from her own
misery to wonder what had brought these two out to the gardens at dawn.

Their voices were lowered, but it was clear the
two were in the midst of a heated argument when the dowager ground out,
‶
You
are mad.″

‶
Listen to me. You don′t
understand.″

‶
I don′t understand?
I′ve lived with them, father and son for most of my life!″ The
dowager′s eyes glittered with anger as she stood rigid and brittle,
facing down her American, right in front of the box hedge where Miranda hid.
‶
Proud.
Stubborn. Fools. As are you.″

‶
Not this time. I will not make
the same mistake twice.″

Her voice was flat, brooking no argument.
‶
You
already have, by insisting on returning to America.″

‶
That is where our future
is.″ There was an urgency to his voice, as if he needed her to agree with
him.

‶
My future is here, with my son
and his bride.″ She added in a whisper,
‶
And Arthur, if Simon truly
goes.″

He laughed, a short, harsh bark.
‶
You
never belonged here. I should have freed you then, but I was too much a
coward.″

She shook her head.
‶
You were not a
coward.″ Her voice sharpened.
‶
Not then.″

He hissed with impatience.
‶
Your
husband is long dead, and Simon is a man now, capable of choosing his own path.
I promise you if you come to America with me —″

She turned away from him and Miranda could not
see her face any longer, only the proud set of her shoulders.
‶
I
cannot throw my hands up at my responsibilities to run away with you. I am not
made that way. You, of all people should know that.″

His voice was harsh with anger and grief.
‶
Then
why did you let me think you cared? Did you think I would stay and be your
plaything?″

The dowager said nothing.

‶
You know that is all I could be
if I stayed here.″

She turned back toward him, a challenge in her
eyes.
‶
That
is hardly true.″

‶
Maybe you can′t see that
it is.″ He sighed, and Miranda knew sadly that he had finally given in
and recognized her mind would not change.
‶
Or maybe you think a title and
position are more important than being married to me.″

When she said nothing further, he spun around
on his heel and left her standing in the garden alone. Except for Miranda,
still trapped behind the box hedge. Afraid to move a muscle lest the dowager
discover that her most private discussion had had an audience, Miranda stifled
the urge to gasp when the dowager whispered bitterly,
‶
You and your family
motto haunt me from the grave, Sinclair. Honor and Truth in All. Like father,
like son.″

Her legs stiff and cramped, Miranda could feel
only relief when the dowager wandered deeper into the garden and she was free
to slip back to her room. There was no solace in the thought that the
dowager′s private life was as tangled up in pride and honor as her own.
It had obviously been so for a very long time without resolution.

For once she did not have a solution for any of
them. She had to hope that Valentine, as a fellow man, would offer a key to the
puzzle of Simon′s pride. At the very least, she needed her
brother′s encouragement to lift her spirits and allow her to believe
there was hope for her future. Thank goodness he was due to arrive within the
week.

Sister,

I am fully aware that I am behaving in a
cowardly manner and deserve whatever chastisement you choose to give me next we
meet. But I find I cannot be in residence at the same location as Emily. Not
now that I have read the news of her recent engagement.

Please, forgive me. I am certain that Simon,
Juliet, and Hero will be your support. And I trust that you will prove yourself
to be the courageous sister I have known all my life, even without my presence.

v.

Miranda, perched on the bottom stair of the
wide main staircase in the entry hall, stared down at the paper in her hand,
and strove to quell the panic that Valentine′s note raised inside her. He
was not coming. Her husband would not make love to her and might possibly even
hate her. In hours her house would be full of people armed with razor-sharp wit
and keen eyes, and he was not coming. How could he do this to her?

She wanted his advice, had counted on his level
head to guide her. Until she opened the note, delivered by a towheaded boy in a
grimy uniform, however, and read his words three times in order to make sense
of them — believe them — she had not realized how much she relied on his
arrival to bring sense to the chaos that her life had become.

How could he do this to her? She needed his
male perspective in order to divine some answer as to what to do about Simon.
And now, with Simon avoiding her, Katherine too busy with the children to
practice her healing arts, and Grimthorpe arriving as a guest within hours,
Valentine had sent a note to say he was not going to be here for the weekend.

Coward! Not that she could blame him. He had
ceased talking about Emily after those first few awful days. But she knew that
he had not ceased loving her.

Miranda had hoped for a reconciliation between
them. But she recognized as well as Valentine had that Emily′s engagement
made such a dream impossible. Perhaps it was just as well that he had not come.
For him, at least.

She sighed. The first guests were due any
moment. The grooms, stable boys, and footmen stood at the ready with their
uniforms ironed and their boots polished. The dowager, Hero, and Juliet waited
in the largest receiving parlor. Where she should be now, instead of sitting
like an errant child on the stair, reading over again this message that she
most definitely did not want to read.

‶
Have you decided to greet our
guests from here?″ Simon came up behind her so softly she was unprepared.
The sound of his voice set her heart to beating rapidly. But she was uneasy in
his presence. He had been avoiding her since the night he had thrown her out of
his bed. It was humiliating even to think about it. She hesitated to look up at
him.

‶
No.″ Miranda glanced up
and nearly lost her breath. He was so handsome he made her heart ache.

Katherine, Hero, and Juliet had to be wrong
when they assured her that his love for her shone from his eyes. If he loved
her, he could not look so calmly at her, as if he had not stolen her
mother′s necklace, not given it back to her and then kissed her, as if he
had not almost made love to her. If he loved her, his heart would beat as
wildly as hers and surely she would hear it. She held out the note to him.

He took it without touching her hand. He
glanced at it and frowned.
‶
I′m sorry. I know how much Valentine′s
support meant to you.″ There was sympathy in his eyes, but relief, too.

She knew he had been worried about having
Valentine and Emily under the same roof. But he had stood firm when
Emily′s father had objected. Valentine was family, he had said.

His sympathy brought tears to her eyes. It was
sheer irony that she would not have needed Valentine′s support if things
were well between she and Simon.
‶
He would be here, if only Emily
were not.″

He sat on the step next to her. For a moment
she thought he intended to put his arm around her, but he did not.
‶
I
think he is showing wisdom. Emily′s betrothed will be here, as well as
Emily and her parents.″

How could he be so understanding and so very
distant while she could barely resist her impulse to climb into his lap and
bury her face in his neck? All at once it occurred to her that this feeling of
tension, this not knowing what to say to make things right, was why Valentine
had not come.

Her brother must feel helpless in the united
face of Emily, her family, and her betrothed. So he had chosen not to put himself
in that position. If only she had the freedom to make such a choice. But where
could she run? Anderlin was no longer her home.

She whispered.
‶
I don′t know how he can
bear it. There is nothing worse than not being able to show the one you love
how much you love them.″ Even when one was married to him.

The sympathy in his expression receded, even as
she watched. He stood up.
‶
Your brother survived army discipline and the heat
and rain of India, he most certainly will survive the loss of one matrimonial possibility.
With his fortunes looking up, there will be many Mamas and Papas interested in
an alliance with him for their daughters, dowries and all.″

‶
You don′t
understand.″ How could he love her and say something like that? Katherine
was blind to think Simon felt anything for her at all. And then, she
wasn′t certain, but she thought she saw a flicker of pain cross his
features.

He held out his hand.
‶
Yes. I understand
very well what he has lost.″ His fingers grasped hers as her hand met
his, and he pulled her to a standing position. He let go of her hand as soon as
she had her balance.
‶
But we bear what we must.″

His voice sounded so cold and distant she could
almost have thought she was talking to the dowager. She stared at him, suddenly
angry at his withdrawal.
‶
Do we?″

He didn′t respond, would have turned away
if she hadn′t reached out to put a hand on his arm.
‶
I
don′t know if I can bear this distance between us, Simon. Must I?″

The sound of carriage wheels on the drive
became clear in the silence between them. Then voices and a flurry of activity
as the footmen began to carry boxes into the hall.

Without acknowledging her question, Simon
turned toward the door.
‶
We must go out to greet our guests.″

Miranda did not stir.
‶
Must we?″

He turned back to her and his coldness faded as
he smiled ruefully and touched her cheek gently.
‶
Better to face the enemy than
to run and hide.″

She pulled away, afraid that his touch would
make the tears that threatened spill forth.
‶
Easy for you to say. They are
not your enemies.″ They were hers. And tears and tension would just add
spice to the gossip.

There were two carriages in the drive.
Grimthorpe, naturally would be among the first arrivals, and the other carriage
contained Emily and her parents. The passengers had alighted from their coaches
and were brushing off their clothing in preparation for entering when Simon and
Miranda went to greet them. Arthur joined them as they began to welcome the
tired travelers.

The last time Miranda had seen Emily, the girl
had been laughing and waving as she headed off to the border with Valentine.
Her brother′s love, looking paler and more sober than that last time,
greeted her politely, but did not meet her eyes.

Her mother, the countess, was a thin,
forbidding woman. To Miranda′s discomfort, she displayed an open
curiosity over how Simon and Miranda had met. Her questions began immediately
after her greeting and did not seem to have an end.

‶
Did you meet at a country dance
at one of the local squire′s homes?″

‶
Had you known Simon long?″

‶
Did you expect to be pulled
from the shelf at this late date?″

Emily gave her one quick, sympathetic glance,
but then seemed to find herself entranced by the sight of her slippers peeping
from under her skirts as she walked. Miranda looked toward Simon.

There was no rescue from that quarter, however.

Emily′s father had left the chattering to
the women and pulled Simon to the side. Before Miranda could blink, before the
countess could finish her latest question, the two men were instantly deep in a
discussion of business matters.

Seeing Grimthorpe′s approach, Miranda
braced herself.

To her surprise, she heard Arthur′s firm
greeting from behind her and was glad to find him there, as if he knew that she
needed support.