“So what did you manage to overhear while you were trying not to listen?”
“Well, I didn’t quite hear every word, but most of it, and what I did hear was quite illuminating. I got that word from a book. I’ve been dying to use it. Such a lovely word.”
“Never mind your word, what were they saying?”
“Well, first off she told him not to say anything.”
Lissy’s ears pricked. That did sound promising. Maybe eavesdropping wasn’t such a bad thing after all. “Go on.”
“Then some rubbish I couldn’t quite hear about tomorrow morning.”
“And?”
“Then he said he might be going to die.”
Megs had clearly saved this last nugget up to shock. “To die? Are you sure that’s what you heard?” Surely Megs had misheard or imagined this bit.
Megs nodded. “That’s exactly what Mims said when I woke her up. Why everyone thinks I’m so silly I can’t eavesdrop a conversation properly, I don’t know. He definitely said he might be dead. Tomorrow. And Mama said he could have breakfast in that case.”
Lissy managed to fasten her gown. “Then we should indeed go down and do more than listen. We should go into the kitchen and see if we can find out what’s going on.” She frowned. “I know he was wounded at Waterloo and he told me he has shrapnel still in his leg and back, but last night he didn’t look like someone with scarcely two days to live. I thought he looked quite healthy. More so than he’s looked since we first met him.” She cast her eyes about her bedroom. “Now where are my shoes?”
Downstairs in thekitchen Miranda was busy helping Betsey prepare a breakfast of bacon, eggs from their own chickens, and the mushrooms she and Harry had collected. And all the time she was trying toconcentrate on not breaking the eggs or burning the bacon, she was acutely aware of him sitting at the table, watching her. Every move she made, every single thing she did, his eyes were on her, and although it brought more color to her cheeks, she liked it very much. The idea that someone couldn’t take his eyes off her was far more intoxicating than she’d ever imagined.
Men. This man, at least. Geoffrey had never looked at her like that with hunger hot in his eyes.
Big breakfasts and big gestures. That was what they liked best. And certainly fighting a duel over her could be classed as a big gesture.
And here she was preparing what might be his last ever breakfast, and he was sitting there gazing at her like a lovesick puppy. Betsey must surely have noticed. He had how he felt written across his face in blazing letters several feet high. It had been a mistake to invite him back to share the mushrooms. A big mistake. This was something that couldn’t be hidden from others. She needed to distance herself from him, insulate herself against the possibility of losing him so soon after she’d gained him. Not think about him.
All of which was impossible to do. Her head was full of him. Of his kisses. Of the scent of soap and the outdoors on him. Of the warmth of his powerful body as he’d pressed it against hers. With a crash, she dropped the skillet she’d been cooking the bacon in onto the floor, luckily without the bacon still in it. Her hands shook, but not because she’d dropped something. This was ridiculous. Her attempt to keep him at arm’s length on their way back to the house had not worked at all, but only made her more desirous of being taken in his arms again and kissed until she was senseless. Whatever would the girls think. With any luck they were all still fast asleep in bed after last night. Harry could be gone by the time they got up and Betsey would surely not tell them she’d had a breakfast guest.
However, at that very moment they all three came into the kitchen, fully dressed and looking far more awake than they usually did at this hour.
“Good morning, Mama, Cousin Harry,” Lissy said, and her sisters echoed the greeting a little too neatly, perhaps. They sounded more than a little rehearsed.
“That smells delicious,” Mims said, sniffing the air. “Mushrooms! Have you been out collecting them in the meadow, Mama?” And now she definitely sounded scripted. Had they been outside the door planning what to say between them?
Miranda glanced from innocent face to innocent face. She was not fooled. They knew something. But if she could read their faces, should she be surprised if they could read hers? And she was well aware she must be wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see.
Harry to the rescue. Sort of. “As the weather has taken a turn for the better, I thought I’d go out for one of my early morning walks. And, due to my leg aching, I sat for a while on a tree trunk in that little wood up on the rise. I was lucky enough to encounter your mother on her search for fungi, and she kindly invited me back to share in her largesse.”
All three girls eyed him with what could only be deep suspicion. That they didn’t quite believe him was obvious, even though what he’d said was only the truth. Well, some of it. He hadn’t lied at all, only omitted bits. Important bits. Such as he’d been challenged to a duel that could lead to his death and she’d agreed to marry him. Or had she? Right now she couldn’t quite recall if she’d done so or if he’d just assumed her acquiescence. Did it even matter? She would marry him anyway. If the odious Sir Julian didn’t kill him tomorrow.
Megs sidled over to Harry and sat down beside him, staring so closely at him it had to be unnerving. “I think I should point out that you are looking a little flushed,” she began, surveying him with narrowed eyes. “I’m surprised Mama hasn’t noticed, as she frequently says it to me. Are you feeling quite well? She always thinks I’m not when my face is as pink as yours. Might you have the start of a fever coming?”
Harry’s brows met in puzzlement. Miranda had to feel sorry for him. He clearly wasn’t at all used to dealing with children, although he was going to have to come round to it. “I am feeling spectacularly well,” he said, with a wide smile. “Better than ever. Even my leg appears to be aching less.”
That brought puzzlement to the faces of all three girls, and they exchanged glances. Whatever was going on here?
“Are you sure?” Mims asked. “There isn’t something about your health that you’re keeping a secret? We’re all old enough to know if you are sick. We can take it. And we could make your last days very pleasant if you’d let us try.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Well, thank you. I shall bear that in mind. But rest assured. I am quite well. In fact, I’m much improved since I arrived here at Windrush. It must be the country air.” He met Miranda’s gaze over their heads and gave a little shrug.
The girls did not look as though they believed him.
Betsey, however, interrupted any further enquiries about Harry’s health. “Breakfast is served,” she said, and laid plates in front of them all.
“This looks wonderful,” Harry said. “And you will discover that my appetite is also improving, ladies, so you need have no worries about me.” And he bestowed another smile on them.
Miranda sat down beside him. How wonderful would it be to do this every day. She wouldn’t even mind if they all stayed on here at the farmhouse. It had about it a certain intimacy. Just the one servant, if you didn’t count Dick, and very few rooms. Yes, she could be happy living here if Harry were here with her. She wouldn’t think about the possibility of him not being here after tomorrow morning.
