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“Oh, how intolerably bored I am,” Countess Langford groused, glaring at her feet propped high atop the cushions.
“The report from Dr. Astor was good, Mamma,” Miranda said with a comforting smile as she looked over from the canvas before her. “You’ll be on your feet in no time. Would you like me to continue reading?”
Her mamma leaned back on the chaise with a sigh. “I’ve had enough of Shakespeare for the day. Your poor father must be in such a worry to have us home with him.” A tiny frown appeared between her winged brows. “Agnes has informed me you’ve been taking long walks with Dr. Astor these past few days.”
Miranda’s heart fluttered wildly in her breast. “Yes,” she said, inordinately glad she faced away from her mamma. Surely, she would have seen the guilt in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks. “The doctor is very charming company, and I do enjoy our long walks. I am quite aware of Agnes following at a discreet distance, Mamma. I am properly chaperoned if that is your worry.”
She felt her mother’s stare, but she concentrated on her brushstrokes, as she painted the view of the estate visible through the large windows of the parlor.
“Need I remind you that as the daughter of an earl, it would be unseemly for you to form an attachment with a man inferior to your rank and wealth?”
"The reminder is not necessary, Mamma, I've been told every day since I was twelve years of age." She lowered the brushes to the side table and stood. "If you'll excuse me, I promised the children I would read to them today. Three of them are going home."
Her mother considered her with a critical eye, before nodding once.
Miranda left the parlor and walked to the drawing room where the children were gathered playing cribbage.
"Lady Miranda!" they chorused. "Join us!"
She tumbled to the carpet and played with them for more than an hour. They all seemed more robust, their skin a healthy pink, their eyes enlivened with happiness. She spent a good portion of the afternoon with them reading and playing cards, and even gathering them together for a quick sketch of a portrait.
Shortly after luncheon, Simon returned from his jaunt to the village. Nerves coursed through her as he approached her where she reposed under a beech tree with her canvas, easel, and paintbrush. A breeze rustled through the top branches of the trees and swept along the mowed grass bringing a scent of roses and pines. The memory of the way he had kissed her sent a dizzying thrill through her.
She watched him approach, trying to affect a mien of polite inquiry. He was so very handsome, with the firm set of his chin, piercing eyes, and sensually firm lips. His tan riding breeches fitted splendidly to his lean waist, powerful thighs, and long muscular legs. His jacket and waistcoat molded quite closely to his broad shoulders
Since their kiss yesterday, she’d not seen Simon. Something about him—she had no idea what—evoked confusing emotions within her. Perhaps it was this hunger she had inside to know everything about him, even as she sensed such a desire to be futile.
Her family would not accept a man of such an inferior rank to be her husband. So, she should view their outings as a brief bit of harmless fun, a brief flirtation, and a pleasant diversion. But she could not prevent the leanings of her heart, even though she had spent hours staring at the ceiling this morning, reminding her heart and mind to be cautious.
Each time his gaze touched hers, her heart trembled in response. Miranda was falling for the doctor, and she did not know how to stop it. Worse, she did not want to halt the sense of
belonging she felt at his side.
He sketched a bow, his eyes never leaving her face. “Good afternoon, Lady Miranda.”
“Good afternoon, Dr. Astor.”
They stared at each other, and both laughed at the same time, dispelling the tension which had wound itself around her heart. “Are we to be frightfully civil to each other?” she asked, chuckling.
He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “Absolutely not. Would you like to take a ride with me?”
She glanced at the carriage parked along his well-maintained gravel driveway. "In your carriage?"
His stare was a tangible thing, reaching to touch her, warming her in places she hadn’t known were cold. “On horses.”
She scrambled to her feet, he reached out and assisted her up. “I would be most delighted! It would take me a few minutes to change into a riding habit.”
“It would be my pleasure to wait for you.”
With a laugh, she hurried away, calling for Agnes once she reached inside the manor. Miranda was glad she had thought to pack a riding habit for the long-forgotten weekend party. She quickly donned a dark blue buttoned-up shirt and half jacket, a skirt, and riding boots, and made her way back to Simon.
He now awaited her with two beautiful horses—a chestnut filly and a black stallion.
“They are so very lovely,” she breathed, strolling up to the chestnut and patting her down. “Oh, you, wonderful beauty,” she crooned. “I shall enjoy riding you.”
Simon choked, and she glanced over at him. "Is all well?"
He had the oddest glint in his beautiful eyes. “Are you ready to race my brave, intrepid lady?”
