“Welcome home!” one said.
“We missed you!” said another.
The first was introduced to Bram as Lady Berry and the other as Suzanna Bonham, who held a resemblance to the lady Gwenys was now dragging over to them. She introduced her to him as Lady Gwendolyn Carstairs. It turned out Suzanna and Gwendolyn were cousins.
All the ladies had wide eyes and were gawking at him as though he were some wildly exotic animal out of the royal menagerie. Obviously, Miranda was not in the habit of bringing home gentlemen.
His heart softened, for she seemed genuinely happy to see her friends, who had the look of being true and loyal to her. Yes, they probably supported each other whenever there was a need, thereby creating a safe haven for themselves in this charming enclave comprising six houses.
“A pleasure to meet ye all,” Bram said as they continued to gawk at him.
They all began to chatter at once, tossing him a hundred questions and allowing no time to respond before they hurled more. But he could see they were sweet ladies, so he did not mind responding as best he could while Miranda’s footmen carried her and Gwenys’s trunks into the house.
“I’ll take my leave of ye now,” he said to Miranda once her belongings had been taken out of his carriage. He felt easier knowing she would be left in good hands with her friends. Still, the moment of parting was upon them and his heart ached. “I’ve given ye my direction. Dinna hesitate to send word to me if ye have a need. Otherwise, I’ll call on ye tomorrow afternoon.”
She nodded. “I look forward to it.” Breaking away from her friends for a moment, she walked him to his carriage. “I will miss you so much, Bram.”
Ah, she’d used his given name.
“I’ll miss ye sorely, Miranda. Ye made this trip south quite pleasant for me, despite the unpleasant way in which it started.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
He climbed back into his carriage and peered out the window to watch her standing apart and looking quite bereft as it rolled away. She had not taken off the silver heart necklace he’d bought for her in York ever since that night Lady Trowbridge had tried to steal it.
He’d made certain to meet with Gwenys’s father and Montrose that next morning to advise them of what had happened. Montrose had been outraged and vowed to do his best to keep Louisa away from that harridan. Gwenys’s father, as expected, voiced weak indignation and would likely do nothing to interfere with the unhealthy friendship between Lady Trowbridge and his wife.
Bram was not going to waste his time trying to instill a spine in that man. However, he would remain ever diligent once the Lawsons and Lady Trowbridge arrived in London. They could not be more than a day or two behind.
He continued to watch Miranda as his carriage was about to turn the corner and carry him out of sight. His last glimpse was of her holding the silver locket in her fingers and lightly stroking her thumb over it.
Did she realize what she was doing?
If she was not a woman in love, then he had learned nothing about the fairer sex in all his forty years.
She had to be in love with him. His heart had recognized hers instantly and known they were meant to be together. Hers must have done the same.
But how was he to convince Miranda of this when she crumbled before his very eyes each time he raised the topic of marriage?
Aye, getting her to trust in her heart was going to be difficult.
Making her his mistress was out of the question. It would be easy enough to get her into his bed, but how could he dishonor her in this way when she deserved all the respect of being his wife?
He remained lost in his thoughts until his carriage rolled up to the Mayfair townhouse he had been letting from friends these past few years, which was not very far from Miranda’s home. In truth, he could easily walk the distance, and would make it a habit to do so with regularity once the weather warmed.
Perhaps it would help his cause if he invited Miranda and her niece to tea here one day this week, for his residence was large and elegant, and might impress her. It was also built around a square, but one much larger than Duchess Square, which was small and delightful.
His neighborhood was stately enough but did not compare to hers in charm, he readily admitted. There were no flowers or shrubbery, or pretty shade trees, just a patch of grass and a few benches within his square. That his residence was not on a pretty street mattered little to him, for he did not spend much time in London and the location was convenient for his purposes whenever he was here.
“Your Grace, it is good to have you back,” his head butler said, scrambling out of the house, two footmen behind him.
“Good to see ye, Mortinson. Anything urgent waiting for me on my desk?”
“No, Your Grace. It has been blessedly quiet. But I expect things will stir to life as your peers return for this next session of Parliament and their wives prepare for the Season to begin in earnest.”
“Aye, that will be a madness,” he said, wincing.
But he had agreed to partake in this madness for Miranda’s sake and to watch over Gwenys.
