Keepsake (The Distinguished Rogues Book 5) (6 page)

Except, his heart clenched. Miranda had returned to him. Well, almost.

To his dismay, he was firmly back where he’d always been—waiting for Miranda to come back into his life. How the devil had his marriage gone so wrong? To this day, he’d never known what had driven her to flee his home, and only Miranda could explain it. Perhaps he hadn’t been man enough for her desires.

He slammed his fist into the roof of the carriage, relishing the burst of pain that cleared his mind, then gave directions to Lord Louth’s home. He had to know if they were together or not.

CHAPTER FOUR

Miranda raised her hand reluctantly and winced as she struck her cousin a soft blow across the cheek to break her from her daze. Agatha, now Viscountess Carrington, had been staring at her with widened eyes for several minutes. Miranda didn’t have the leisure to wait much longer for the girl to collect her sensibilities. “Agatha. It really is me.”

Her younger cousin blinked slowly and then, on coming out of her stupor, bit her lower lip.

“You are not dreaming. I am here in the flesh and growing cross with your childish behavior.” Miranda drew back in satisfaction as Agatha shook her head.

“Merry?” Agatha shrieked the next moment and caught Miranda in a none-too-gentle embrace.

Miranda hugged her tightly in return. “I had hoped your propensity for overreaction would have subsided by now, but perhaps you’d better sit down while we speak before you actually faint on me.”

Reluctantly Agatha released her completely, recovering her poise to a fair degree. But then she all but fell into the nearest chair with a laugh, spoiling the impression that she was anything but the enthusiastic young girl Miranda remembered. “I thought you dead. Or ruined. Or worse, immigrated to America. I cannot believe you’ve come back after all these years.”

 
“You and everyone else.” Miranda surveyed the Carrington town house surreptitiously, noting the disarray and clutter that spoke of a large family living beneath one roof. Agatha could use another set of competent hands to assist her, or better ones than she currently employed. She glanced up at the molded ceiling as a heavy thump reverberated above her head. “You have children, I believe.”

“Yes.” Agatha’s face creased into a stunning smile. “The orphanage Grandfather patronized had to close. Did you know Grandfather was so charitable? After I came to live with him, I discovered he was always willing to help those less fortunate than himself. The Grafton Street Orphanage was an endeavor he allowed me to visit. I played the pianoforte for the children every day and came to love them.”

Another thump and then a wail. “Should they be left alone?”

“I have help, and Jeannie can manage them for a little while without me.” Agatha smiled timidly. “You’ll take tea, of course?”

“Thank you but no. I don’t wish to trouble you. I’d rather talk.”

“Me too.” Agatha frowned and continued her retelling. “When the trustees decided to close after Grandfather died, the children had nowhere to go but back onto the street. The Carringtons were involved with the orphanage, and in the end Oscar adopted them. We were wed soon after, so they truly are my children now.”

 
Miranda eased into a chair close to her cousin, relieved that Agatha seemed more composed now. “I wanted to call on you immediately, to discover how you’ve been firsthand.”

“I am well. Oh, Miranda. How I have longed to see you these past years.” She inched forward and clasped Miranda’s hand. “I was delivered of a child, a son, recently and have only begun moving in society again these past weeks. Motherhood, true motherhood, was such a remarkable experience. You should have been here to see little Elliot come into the world.”

Miranda peered at her cousin, noting her eyes glowed with satisfaction. Miranda was familiar with that look and feeling. She had only to think of Christopher to know her life was made whole by his existence. “Motherhood agrees with you, but then you were always the one little children flocked to when we were growing up.”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring in them briefly. “A fact you used to tease me about unmercifully.”

“Did I?” She laughed as she struggled to recall their long-ago interactions. “Well, can you blame me? Children never warmed to me when I was younger and you always took everything I said so seriously.”

“I looked up to you. Tried to follow in your footsteps.” Agatha wrinkled her nose. “Well, up to a point. I did not run away on my wedding day as you did. Why did you?”

Of course Agatha would ask. But Miranda couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. Despite her best intentions, she still felt remarkably let down by her own behavior. She should have known Taverham could not love her. And yet she should never have let events drive her away either. But at the time she’d wanted nothing but escape from him and the people who knew his mistress too well.

What was she but a wealthy cit’s daughter with a dowry Taverham desperately needed and a gullible disposition to boot?

“I was deceived,” Miranda told her finally, squeezing Agatha’s hands. “But I’d rather not talk about something that no longer matters. I am so sorry I was not here for you last year when Grandfather died. By the time I heard of his passing, you had already wed Viscount Carrington and had moved to a house in the country. By all accounts you were content. I hope this marriage was what you truly wanted.”

“It was.” Agatha’s eyes grew soft, the dreamy look of a besotted fool if ever there was one. “I have loved him all my life. We almost lost each other too, but when Grandfather died, he took care of me. In the end it all turned out for the best.”

Miranda had probably worn a similar look when she’d spoken to others of her impending marriage to Taverham. The first rush of love is often the most important to a woman. And yet Miranda marveled at the way Agatha had glossed over what must have been an entirely horrendous period in her life. Always looking for the bright side in a bad situation, always hoping for the best when the worst was coming, Agatha rarely let disappointments linger in her mind.

Lord Carrington had almost married another, and gentlemen could not break engagements without consequences. The cost would be high both socially and financially, as she well knew. She held Agatha’s hand between her own firmly. “I read about the breach of promise in the papers, Agatha. According to reports it was an expensive and protracted business that surely placed a strain on your and Carrington’s connections. Is it very bad for you still?”

Agatha glanced down at her fingers, shielding her face from view. “It is not the best, especially with the size of our family. So hard to avoid notice when it takes three carriages to transport us all, but I would not have it any other way.”

A piercing howl rang through the house, loud enough to make even Agatha glance up. “I love my life and my family.”

Miranda patted her hands firmly. “I am glad, Agatha. I would—” She stopped because of a movement at the edge of her vision. When she turned her head slightly, she saw a tiny child, a girl of about seven or so hugging the doorframe as if afraid to venture closer. Miranda smiled. “And who is this pretty creature?”

Agatha giggled and wiggled her fingers at the child to invite her to join them. “This is Jemma, our second-to-youngest daughter. Jemma, come pay your respects to my cousin, Lady Taverham.”

Miranda inclined her head. “How do you do?”

The little girl bustled across the room at a spritely pace and then thrust out her hand as gentlemen were prone to do with each other. “My lady.”

Smiling at the bold child, Miranda took her hand and was granted three firm shakes.

The little girl’s brow creased. “Do you know when Simon and Mabel are coming back?”

Agatha pulled the child to her side. “Lady Taverham likely does not as she has not met your brother and sister yet. They will be home when Papa is done with his errands. Have you finished with your studies already?”

The little girl looked so incredibly guilty for not being finished that Miranda laughed. She leaned forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”

The little girl nodded quickly.

“Your day will be much more pleasant if you do the things you least like first.”

The child’s eyes narrowed. “Like eating cabbage?”

Miranda laughed again. “No, I would not suggest eating cabbage for breakfast, but do your studies first, child, and make your mama proud.”

The little girl brightened, kissed Agatha’s cheek, and hurried away. Agatha swiveled around to stare at Miranda. “Well, it seems you’ve developed a knack for managing children that you never had before. She is the most difficult to please. I would have spent a quarter hour convincing her to return upstairs to the others. She is always afraid she will miss out.”

Miranda grinned, thinking of the tactics she’d needed to learn swiftly to get Christopher to do anything he hadn’t wanted to. Her son was not always the most biddable child in existence. “I must have developed the knack from somewhere.”

Agatha sighed deeply. “If only half the people we met took so well to them on first meeting. They tend to frighten more timid acquaintances into never calling again.”

“Children are meant to be loud. Isn’t that what we agreed when we were young?”

If there was anything Miranda could do in the future to help Agatha financially, she would. She had at least ten years of pin money coming to her that might be more use to them than gathering dust in Taverham’s now-bursting coffers. A few extra servants, experienced with the demands of managing a large family, might be just the ticket to ease the burden on Agatha’s slender shoulders.

“Loud and occasionally dirty, with no thought to their consequence and rank.” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So, you are a marchioness now.”

The last time Miranda had been with Agatha was a month before the wedding and they’d both been simply Miss Birkenstock and had played with Agatha’s many dolls. Agatha had been quite young then and in awe of the future ahead for Miranda. “I am, my dear Lady Carrington.”

Agatha giggled. “When you say it like that I hear the cousin I knew.”

“I have not changed so very much. I simply am far less impressed by the lofty and empty titles we both have now.”

“How has Taverham taken your return? He must be overjoyed to see you again. I’ve not met with him in some weeks, though I sensed the last time we met that all was not well with him. Oscar suggested I was imagining a change. Is he well?”

Miranda was sure she knew exactly what had been on Taverham’s mind—having her declared dead no doubt and worrying that he might have to repay her dowry to her father’s estate. That must have given him nightmares. “I expect he is irritated. We met last night and I left him to his own amusements. You’ll not find me at Twilit House; I have not returned to my husband.”

Agatha blinked several times. “Whyever not?”

“I have some errands to run first, and I prefer to keep my business to myself for the time being. In fact, I should be about them right now.” Miranda stood reluctantly. “Do forgive me for rushing off again, but I wanted to be sure you saw me first before you read whatever nonsense the papers choose to report today. I am well and indeed alive, and that is all that matters. I will come and see you again soon, I promise.”

Agatha stood too, her expression panicked. “The next time you come must be for an entire day, at least. You must. We have so much to catch up on. I’ll make sure Oscar is here at first to distract the children, or maybe we could all go on a picnic together. Somewhere the children might run about and exhaust themselves while we talk.”

Such a day sounded extremely pleasant. Miranda hadn’t been on such an outing in a very long time. She smiled at her cousin. “I’d like that very much.”

Miranda embraced Agatha, held her cousin tightly against her and rocked her from side to side ever so slowly. “You have grown so beautiful, as I was sure you would. I am glad you found your happiness, my dear.”

When they drew apart, Agatha studied Miranda’s face until Miranda grew uncomfortable. “But you haven’t, have you? I’ve never seen you so unhappy.”

Miranda’s eyes stung at how perceptive her cousin had become. She’d thought she’d hidden her bitterness so much better. She forced a smile and squeezed Agatha’s hand one last time. “I was happy once and in time I hope to be once more.”

Miranda turned for the door before she blurted out the truth to the one person who might understand. In coming back she’d known she’d need to face her past and the decisions she’d made for her life. What she hadn’t expected was how badly she wanted to tell someone about Christopher. But until she had her keepsake safely in her grasp once more, Miranda couldn’t dare. No one would believe her without seeing him first.

CHAPTER FIVE

Lord Louth’s residence in Golden Square was an impressive mansion that had been in the man’s family for generations, as Kit’s had been. As he stepped over the threshold at the butler’s invitation, he glanced around the entrance, struck at once by the elegance and simple grace of the furnishings around him.

“I’d like to speak with Lord Louth if possible, Gibbs,” he said as he removed his hat from his head in the cool interior.

“How nice to see you again, my lord.” The older man beamed. “But I am afraid Lord Louth is away from home at present.”