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He nodded his thanks, and made his way outside, into the crisp evening air. He hurried toward the lake, and several moments later, released a sigh of relief to find her lying on the grass, unconcerned with the damage to her dress. Miranda had removed the pins from her hair, and the most glorious golden blonde tresses he’d ever seen were spread about her head and shoulders on the verdant grass.
Simon lowered himself beside her, aware that the slight hill behind of them would hide them from the view of the main house and anyone looking out their windows.
“I am sorry,” he said gruffly, laying back on the grass, and staring at the lowering sun. “I did not want to risk you and when I saw you enter that door…I felt afraid.”
She shifted her head, and he felt her stare. "Afraid of what?" she murmured.
“I thought the symptoms might be cholera. A most ravaging disease which always invariably leads to death. When I thought of you near it…I reacted.” He turned his head to face her. “You are precious to me, Miranda.”
The silence which fell between them was fraught with intimate peril. Simon fingered strands of her hair and relished their cool softness against his knuckles. He pushed to his feet and held out his hand. Trustingly, she placed her fingers within his, he tugged her to her feet and led her behind an arbor of trees.
Then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. They stood together, mouth to mouth, in almost shocked amazement of their incredible daring. A doctor kissing the daughter of an earl. A beauty unlike any he’d ever seen, a woman destined to marry a duke or a prince. Not a third son.
Pushing all those misgivings aside, he drew her closer, flushing her body against his. He thrust his fingers into her hair, which ran like a waterfall over his skin, a sensual delight to the touch. Simon kissed her, unable to halt the desire roaring through his body for her. And she responded with shivering waves of sensuality. They kissed over and over, until her lips appeared red and swollen, her eyes glazed with passion.
“I want to court you, Miranda.”
Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened. "I want that too." Then she closed her eyes. " Mamma will never agree to me accepting a proposal from you."
“I am not without connections,” he replied. “I have an inheritance of five thousand pounds a year.
And I daresay we will never want for a supply of fruits, farm produce, baked goods and similar from my patients.”
She choked back her laughter, but her eyes danced with merriment.
“I will speak to your father,” he said gruffly.
She nodded, though there was a deep glow of uncertainty in her gaze.
“I’ll fight for you,” he vowed.
A broad smile bloomed on her lips, and she sank into his embrace.
Soothingly against his
chest, she said, “I’ll fight for you too, Simon.” And though the words were muffled, they pierced him deep inside.
And that was enough for today.
Chapter 7
Simon strolled along the lawns of his estate, his hands clasped behind his back, a sense of peace and happiness pervading his veins. Miranda walked beside him, the picture of loveliness. But it was the soft smile of contentment upon her lips which filled him with a queer sense of joy. That empty, hollow glaze which had lingered in her eyes had vanished, and it was replaced by a look that was so tender and sweet, it gave him hope when he should be cautious.
"Your mother is quite fit to travel. I've informed her so myself early this morning. Today is to be her last day of bedrest, and she is quite eager to depart my dreadfully boring manse."
Miranda winced. “I apologize for Mamma’s tongue.”
Simon grinned. “All patients are dreadfully bored and intolerably odious when confined to a bed.”
"You are too kind," she said with a light laugh.
She bit into her lower lip, a nervous gesture.
“I have hopes to travel this weekend to visit your father at the country home, where I will speak to him about courting you.”
“He will be home. Papa is the master of the hunt, and I daresay hunting is all he had been anticipating for the season. He finds balls and most of the ton intolerably boring, you know.”
Simon cleared his throat. “My brother is a duke.”
