Page 29 of The Major's Mistake
Julian rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “You are a bloody miracle worker, Sykes. I owe you yet another debt of gratitude.”
Sykes lingered at the door for a moment. “There is hot water upstairs for your shave when you are ready, guv. Oh, and it’s not me you should thank, guv. It’s your wife.”
As he left Julian standing mouth agape, a slight smile crossed his grizzled face.
Eight
Julian tethered his stallion to the branch of a live oak and slowly made his way to the crest of the ridge. The wind kicked up a bit, ruffling his hair with a lick of dampness that hinted at rain to come. He stood for a moment and savored its coolness. It felt welcome after nearly a whole day in the saddle on what had turned out to be a fruitless search along the western border. Now, as the sun sunk closer to the rugged hills beyond the pasture, he was content merely to gaze out at the play of light, the echo of cool pinks and mauves, so different from the sun-baked hues of the Peninsula.
It was a pretty vista. He took another few steps over to where an ledge of rock allowed an even better vantage point, as well as a spot for him to relieve the weight on his bad leg. High above, a goshawk floated in the cross currents, then beat a lazy retreat towards the moors. There was little sound, save for the rustling of young leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl …
And something else.
At first he wasn’t sure if it was aught but his imagination, but then it came again. Low and plaintive, it might almost have been taken for the cry of a wounded bird. Puzzled, he got up and moved quietly in the direction of the odd sound. A fringe of mosson the weathered stone muffled the scrape of his boots as he slid around the outcropping of tumbled granite.
The marquess drew in his breath sharply at the sight that appeared before him. Sitting there, knees drawn up to her chin, head buried in her arms, was Miranda.
He fell back a step, uncertain of whether to interrupt her private grief or retreat before she became aware of his presence. But her head jerked up as he stumbled over a loose stone.
“Oh!” She scrambled to her feet and looked around wildly for somewhere to flee but he was blocking the only way off the ledge.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to … intrude. I heard a strange noise and came to invest—” As he caught sight of her tearstained face, he stopped abruptly. “Why, you’re frightfully upset. What is wrong?”
Miranda swiped her sleeve over her cheek. “Nothing!” she said. “Now kindly step aside, sir, and let me pass.” She tried to dodge around him but he set his hand on her shoulder to stop her from slipping by.
“Nothing? You have never been one to throw a fit of vapors over nothing, Miranda.” His mouth crooked in a rueful half smile. “What you mean is, it is nothing you wish to share with me.”
“You … wouldn’t understand, milord.”
His face was mere inches from hers. “Why don’t you try me?”
Miranda became very still.
“Come,” he said gently. He took her hand and led her around to where he had been watching the sun sink into the gathering clouds. She sat down stiffly, taking great care to avoid his eyes.
Julian followed the direction of her gaze. “The wildness has a great beauty, does it not?” he remarked, taking a seat beside her. He removed a heavy silk handkerchief from his pocket and placed it on her lap.
Miranda nodded. “I find myself coming here often—to watch the day end,” she said haltingly “And … to think.” She fingered the thick embroidered crest in the corner of the square for some time before speaking. “I want to do the right thing for Justin.”
“Judging from what I have observed, it would seem you have precious little to fear on that score.”
She slanted him a quick look that betrayed her surprise.
“I meant what I said before, Miranda.” he said quietly. “It is clear you have been a wonderful mother.”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “I had expected that certain decisions might be put off until he was older. But now that you are here ….” She trailed off.
Julian didn’t press her.
After a long bit of silence she went on. “I’m … afraid. Afraid that I may be tempted to choose what is best for me, rather than what is best for Justin. But you see, I’m not sure I can bear to lose him—” Her voice broke. “For he is all I have.”
Looking angry and embarrassed at having given way to such weakness, she muttered an oath under her breath and made to brush away her tears. But before she could do any such thing, he pulled her close, so close that her cheek was resting against the soft wool of his riding coat.
“You never have to fear that you will lose Justin,” he whispered as his fingers crept up to stroke the top of her hair. “As for the other things—well, we’ll find a way to manage.”
She started to pull away, but her resistance seemed to dissolve in another sob. Then another, and another.
Julian held her until at last her shoulders ceased to heave and she was able to lift her head from his shoulder.
