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They made their way to the children who observed their progress with degrees of curiosity.
“Are they all ill?” she asked, sympathy furrowing her brow.
“Yes, but they are in different stages of recovery.”
“You’ve converted your ballroom and larger drawing room into an area to treat your patients. I’ve never heard of such a thing before. Don’t you ever dance?”
“Creating a safe haven for the sick is more important than balls.”
She flushed. “I did not mean to imply otherwise. I…I was simply curious about you.”
He felt like an eel. "Forgive me," he said with a slight bow. "I have on occasion danced at the local assemblies." And a few balls which his family held. But he kept that information to himself. Many people tended to treat him differently when they realized he was Lord Simon Astor, the third son of a duke. They became unfailingly polite or fawningly pretentious, all hoping to meet the far more important members of his family.
"For many years the people of the village only had an apothecary to rely on for aid. When I finished my last course of study in Edinburgh, I bought this house with a portion of my inheritance from my father. There was a severe outbreak of cholera in the village a few years ago, three to be precise. It was challenging for me to travel to so many houses and patients who needed me each day. I thought it made sense to have them under my roof instead.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about the admiration warming her eyes. “It was nothing,” he said gruffly. “I was doing my duty.”
“I daresay it was more than that,” she whispered with a smile. “You made a part of your beautiful home a hospice, not many would be so generous with their wealth and time. I daresay this was more than duty, Dr. Astor.”
"What else should I do with so many rooms?" he said with a hint of humor. "I converted the drawing room and the ballroom into comfortable spaces with several beds for those who are too ill to be moved. For the last two years, it is mostly children who occupy those rooms. Critically ill adults are assisted to London for proper care.”
They reached the children, and he made swift introductions.
“A real lady?" eleven year-old Lydia demanded with a dubious frown, reaching out to finger the skirt of Lady Miranda's dress. "Like the ones who drive through the parish in their fine dresses and carriages?"
Simon chuckled. “Come now, Lydia, what have I told you about manners?”
She pouted and then smiled shyly at Miranda before dipping into an awkward curtsy. All the children followed Lydia’s suit, considering she was the oldest.
Lady Miranda charmed him by returning the honor and sinking into a deep curtsy. “It is a pleasure to meet you all,” she said with a broad smile.
Tommy gaped, and Simon entirely sympathized with the boy.
“I was hoping to read to you today,” she said, leaning over and plucking the book from his hand.
The children perked up at that and rushed to sit in the center of the carpet. He read to them in that informal style on the ground. “I will drag the sofas and tables over—”
“Please no,” she said, tugging off her gloves and dropping them atop one of the side tables. Then she toed off her walking shoes and her stocking-clad toes curled into the soft thickness of the plush carpet. “The floor will do quite nicely.”
And it
surprised him that something so simple would be enough to beat back the shadows of sadness he had spied earlier. Her green eyes glinting vibrantly, she lowered herself onto the floor, in the center of the children. What has your life been like, my lady, he silently wondered.
She opened the book and lowered her voice into a dramatic hush and then started reading. With a smile, he walked away to attend to the other side of his responsibilities, managing his small estate and the several tenants and workers he provided for.
Unexpectedly, he realized he was inordinately glad Lady Miranda would be his guest for two weeks.
Chapter 4
Three days after the arrival of his unexpected guests, from the windows of his library, Simon stared in astonishment at the picture before him. Lady Miranda was sprawled on her stomach in the grass by the hidden grotto near the lake, creeping on her knees and belly, a mischievous smile on her face. The sight of that sweet smile filled Simon with an unexpected intense rush of pleasure. He swung the telescope toward the direction she stared and blinked when he saw his wolfhounds crouched, wagging their tails, and staring at her with rabid anticipation. She crept forward, and the blasted dogs mimicked her, meeting her in the middle of the wide-open ground. He wasn't sure if the dogs were acting like her, or if the lady was acting like the dogs. Two of the massive dogs bounded over to her, and she hugged them to her and scratched behind the great brutes’ ears, laughing when they tried to slobber on her chin. Simon chuckled at the outrageousness of it all. He stood there for a long time observing the delight she took in something so simple as playing with the animals.
Gripping the telescope in his hands, he left the study and made his way toward the north end section of the estate, where she was hidden in play with the dogs. The lake stretched before them, the sunlight glistening off the water's edge, illuminated the darting fishes below the lake's surface. The dogs sensed his presence and started barking excitedly. She glanced up, pushing a wisp of hair behind her ear. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and a flush ran along her cheeks. How becoming, she appeared, so mussed, and so delightfully improper. Wicked visions of taking her into his arms right here, tumbling her to the grass, and kissing her senseless danced in his mind. Arousal curled like a flame through Simon, and he had to glance away and bring his passions under control.
She surged to her feet, brushing grass and twigs from her dress and hair. Not that it helped, but it did not diminish from her loveliness. Today she’d donned a dark yellow short-sleeved buttoned-up gown where the narrow skirt hugged her slender frame to its best advantage. She had a slim, wild beauty that seemed untouchable, and it amused Simon that she appeared so unconcerned with dirtying her elegant gown. His sister would have squealed with outrage should a spot of mud touched her hemline.
"Have you come to join the puppies and me, Dr. Astor?" she asked with a lift of her chin and a smile on her lips.
“Puppies!” he exclaimed in mock horror. “They are each about ten stones of fully-grown beasts.”
