“Och, ye kept her too busy to think about how badly it could all have turned out. That is a relief.” Bram smiled at his capable heir, who was once again proving his worth.
“It was also a pleasure,” the lad admitted. “She’s a lovely girl. Very sweet. A little too trusting, perhaps. But I suppose that is better than being cynical and wary. She has a charming way about her that puts even the grumpiest of souls in good humor.”
“Ye like her?”
“More than is wise, I think.” Douglas raked a hand through his hair as he nodded. “But I wasn’t so foolish as to say anything to her. After all, my dolt of a brother did a very bad thing in abducting Lady Miranda. I dinna think our family will ever be forgiven by these Lawson ladies. I sense Gwenys’s aunt is no’ going to be nearly as obliging as her niece.”
“Unfortunately, true,” Bram replied. “I dinna know what Miranda will insist upon doing now that she has been returned. I will no’ stop her from seeking out the magistrate, if that is her intention. Mongo tossed a bag over her head and might have suffocated her. She cracked a rib because he carried her over his horse like a sack of grain, and then rode for hours, never once giving thought to her comfort or care.”
Douglas winced. “I had no idea, Bram. Och, this is bad.”
“I know. While I’ll step in to keep him from hanging or serving too much time in prison, I canno’ protect him from this. Being drunk and well intentioned is no excuse. He’s yer brother, and I hope ye will no’ be too angry with me for having him face the consequences. But he is no child and ought to have known better.”
“I agree. I canno’ tell ye how angry I am withhim. He never thinks, and our mother makes it worse by treating him like an infant and always making excuses for him. What did Ma say about yer intentions?”
“I didna tell her. I was afraid she would lash out at Miranda if she knew I was no’ going to stop her from reporting this incident to the magistrate.”
“Is this what Miranda will do?”
“Aye, unfortunately, I believe so.”
Douglas cast him a grim look. “So be it. She has every right, being as she is the aggrieved party.”
While Gwenys, Douglas, and Miranda settled in the dining room for breakfast, Bram drew aside the innkeeper andrequested a room for himself. “I’ll be escorting the ladies to London,” he told the man. “I’ll leave when they do. In the meanwhile, give me yer finest room available.”
“At once, Yer Grace. That will be the Royal Suite.”
No doubt costing him a fortune, Bram figured. “Fine, that will do.”
Miranda already thought the worst of him. He would not have her think of him as a miser, too.
He ordered Douglas’s belongings moved into the suite, too. No sense paying for two rooms when that Royal Suite could easily accommodate a small army. Having made his arrangements, he joined the threesome at the dining table. They had already served themselves and were about to dig into the savory meals piled on their plates.
After ordering coffee for himself, he strode to the salvers that were elegantly spread across a long table against the hearth wall and served himself sausages, kippers, eggs, and oatmeal. There was a basket of freshly baked scones on the table, too. He grabbed three of those.
His plate was piled high, for he was famished.
He usually ate his breakfast at seven o’clock sharp every morning, but it was nearing ten and he hadn’t had a bite to eat because they had left Lanark Castle at the break of dawn. He had ordered his carriage driver to go slow because he feared to do more harm to Miranda’s ribs if she were badly jostled. But this had almost doubled their travel time.
And now, he was frothing at the mouth and wanting to tear into everything in sight. Och, no wonder she must think him a barbarian.
Well, he supposed hewasone.
Miranda stared at his plate as he sank into the chair beside hers and dug into his food.
“Miranda,” he said between bites, “I’ve taken the best suite at the inn. It is quite large and comfortable. Douglas and I dinna need all that room. Would ye and Gwenys prefer it? We can move into yers.”
“That is very generous of you, Your Grace,” Gwenys said, casting him a bright smile. “Shall we have a look at it, Aunt Miranda?”
Miranda quickly put a damper on the notion. “It isn’t necessary. We are fine just where we are.”
He nodded. “Perhaps later ye’ll have a look at it, as Gwenys suggested, and change yer mind.”
“I won’t,” she insisted, ignoring Gwenys’s groan.
“I am no’ trying to bribe ye, Miranda,” he said, swallowing another heavenly bite of his kippers. “I’m only thinking of yer comfort.”
She snorted.
