But even this failed ploy was enough to overset Miranda, because the mere sight of this woman had her recalling those horrible years during her marriage and those awful ones after her husband had died.
Lady Trowbridge ran her hands along Bram’s chest, leaving a light scratch mark as her calling card. “I’ll see you later, Your Grace,” she said in that annoying purr and strutted past Miranda, smug in the knowledge of destroying her composure.
Miranda’s gaze was fixed on her nemesis as Lady Trowbridge flounced out of sight. Only then did she turn back to Bram, staring at him a long moment because she was obviously dumbfounded by what had just occurred.
She held up the scrap of parchment now crumpled in her hand. “I don’t suppose you slipped this note under my door.”
“No.”
She managed a brief smile. “I don’t suppose youmeantto greet her while wearing not a stitch of clothing.”
“No. I was washing up for our supper tonight, hoping to look elegant instead of the savage Scot that I am. She caught me as I was about to set out my clothes. She’s a nasty one, isn’t she?”
Miranda nodded. “She meant to seduce you.”
“Och, lass. So what? I’d never succumb to her charms, which are nonexistent anyway. Do ye think I would ever choose her over ye?”
“My husband did,” she said, the pain evident in her voice.
“Because he was anidjit. I am no’ him, Miranda.”
“I know.”
But the look she gave him revealed a wealth of doubt. That boor of a husband had crushed her ability to trust, and Bram knew it would be a difficult hurdle for him to overcome, especially while Lady Trowbridge was doing her best to undermine Miranda’s chance at happiness.
He sighed. “We ought to keep to our original plan and dine in tonight.”
She shook her head fiercely. “No! This is the one thing we cannot do, especially now. Then she will know that she’s won.”
“She canno’ win unless ye give her power over yerself.”
“But that’s the sad part, isn’t it?” She cast him a mirthless smile. “She does have it. Please, we must dine where everyone can see us. Gwenys and I will wear our best silks. What were you planning on wearing?”
He glanced down at himself, his upper torso naked and only a towel wrapped around his hips to hide his lower parts. “What? Am I no’ dressed to yer liking?”
She gave a soft laugh. “I’m sure Lady Trowbridge was pleasantly surprised by your attire.”
“Who cares what she thought? Rest easy, I was going to wear my formal best for ye. I know how important this evening is for ye.”
“Thank you, Bram.”
Och, he liked the sound of his name on her lips.
“Just so there is no confusion, I did no’ open the door to her. She claimed to be a maid bringing me a letter.” He nodded toward the one in Miranda’s hand, curious about it. “I only ventured into the hall once I thought she had walked away. Obviously, she hadn’t. Stupid, childish game she was playing.”
He took the note out of her hand. “Look at ye, ye’re still shaking. What am I to do with ye?”
“I have no idea. I think I am hopeless.”
He quickly perused her note, which was supposedly from him and asking for her assistance.
She sighed. “I assumed you needed help with your cuff links. I suppose I was meant to find you in a compromising position with Lady Trowbridge.”
“Aye, and as I said, a stupid game.”
“Well, she’s won this round.”
“How can ye believe this? I was never going to let her in. Can I say this any clearer, Miranda? I willalwayschoose ye over her. If I am the prize, then she can never win.”
