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"You must tell me what happened, for I have promised you not to tell a soul so to ask Christopher for the details is not something I can do, but I must know the truth.”
Miranda froze, her eyes flashing with indecipherable emotions. “The duke is Christopher to you?”
Jealousy and hurt were thick in her tone, and Pippa flinched and closed her eyes. She now felt like a cad. The memories of his touch and heated kisses filled her. She shouldn’t have allowed him, no matter how compelling she’d found him. Not when Miranda’s heart was still hopelessly entangled with the duke. Oh, how wretched Pippa felt. “That was a mistake, I—”
“Do you love him?” Miranda demanded, fisting her hands at her side.
"What? Of course not! Do not be so absurd." The denial made her heart tremble. Dear God. Was she falling in love with the duke? How preposterous would that be?
Miranda folded her arms under her bosom, impatient annoyance evident in the elegant line of her posture. “Then why do you need to know more?”
Because the honor Pippa had spied several times of his character had undermined Miranda’s claim in Pippa’s opinion. “I should be astonished if I discovered that the duke did seduce you, Miranda, please be honest with me.”
“I never said he seduced me,” she cried.
Pippa stared at her friend, not wanting to accept the logical conclusion. “You tried to compromise him,” she guessed faintly. “Deliberately…and he refused you. Oh Miranda, what were you thinking to act with such rank disregard of your reputation and standing in society?”
Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wanted to be his duchess,” she said on a shaky breath. She sank onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands, her slender form convulsed by deep sobs.
“He did not deserve the discredit you laid at his door.” And she owed him an apology, as Pippa Cavanaugh and Lady W. She closed her eyes, already envisioning the fight from Mr. Bell. He would not want to print a retraction only more salubrious speculation. Pippa felt wretched. “If you knew the manner of man the duke is, you would not have acted so silly.” No wonder Miranda had not wanted to inform the Earl and Countess.
“And you do?” Miranda said with scathing contempt.
“I do not wish to fight with you, but you let me believe the worst of the duke when you had been at fault, Miranda.”
Her eyes flashed with ire. “He did see me naked!”
Pippa stood and walked over to her. "Did he kiss you? Did he seduce you with words and touches, taking off your clothes or assisting you to take them off?"
Miranda blushed and turned away. “No!”
Pippa continued, “And did he invite you to his room?”
Her shoulder trembled. "No. We sat beside each other at dinner, and he was so charming and attentive. We spoke of the weather, his travels to India, tigers, and elephants. I thought…mamma was so certain he was interested. She praised me for snaring his regard when so many others had failed. Then I heard him speaking of possibly traveling to Europe for several months, and I recalled the rumors of the Russian heiress. I…I had to act."
Pippa felt such disappointment in her friend’s conduct…and in her own gullibility she almost cried. How ready she had been to cast the duke in the same dishonorable light as Nigel and her father when he had not deserved it. “You went into his room,” Pippa said softly, knowing Miranda’s nature of pursuing what she wanted at all c
ost.
"I waited in my robe, and when he entered, I shrugged it from my shoulders."
Pippa’s heart beat a furious rhythm as she asked, “And what did he do?”
"Turned away!" Miranda said on a pained wail. "He simply turned away and said nothing would induce him to marry a calculating wench, not even the threat of a scandal, and left his room. I was so mortified."
Now she understood the surprise in his eyes when she had refused his visit to her mother because of his kiss. How many ladies had tried to compromise him? How many had only seen the title and wealth and not the man beneath all of that? “You were ill-judged to act so, Miranda!”
“I was not!”
Pippa recognized an exercise in futility when she saw one. Miranda would not take responsibility. "I am disappointed that you will not see it. The duke deserves an apology from both of us. It would be poor of your character if you did not render him one."
Then she walked from the room, ignoring her softly sobbing friend.
In the hallway, she spied her mother hurrying toward the drawing room with a letter in her hand. There was a sheen of distress in her mother’s eyes.
Pippa increased her pace. “Mamma? Is all well?”
“A letter…” she took a deep breath. “A letter came from her.” Her mother handed over a peach vellum sheet of paper.
