Page 20 of The Major's Mistake
A figure stepped out of the shadows of the barn door.
“That was … good of you,” said Julian haltingly. “You didn’t have to say what you did.”
Miranda quickly rose. “I have no intention of coloring Justin’s feelings towards you, sir. It is only right that a boy should respect and … love his father.”
The marquess swallowed. “Given your sentiments, that is more than generous,” he said in a low voice.
Her eyes dropped to watch the kitten nudging the empty bowl along the dirt floor, as if searching for a way to conjure up another helping. “I told you, my sentiments are irrelevant, milord.”
Julian cleared his throat. “I should like your permission to give Justin a proper pony to ride. He is so fond of animals and I thought that, well, that he would like it.”
“I … I cannot afford the upkeep,” she said in a tight voice. “If Aunt Sophia would be willing?—”
“Of course I shall to see to all the expenses,” he said quickly.
Her hands twisted together as she considered the matter. “Seeing as it is for Justin,” she said slowly, “I suppose that will be acceptable.”
He murmured his thanks.
“But I mean to warn you, sir, I’ll not allow you to make a habit of showering him with all manner of costly presents. He doesn’t need to be spoiled to be happy.”
He gave a curt nod.
“Justin is waiting?—”
“Mrs. Ransford,” interrupted a voice. “Angus asked whether you be needing him to fetch you anything in the village this afternoon?” The young groom came around the stalls and stopped short at the sight of the marquess in conversation with Miranda. “Oh! Master Justin said as you was here, but he didn’t mention you had company.” His hands unconsciously balled into fists at his side. “Do you need me for anything, ma’am?”
“No, that’s quite alright, Jem. And you may tell Angus that I have no errands for him.”
Jem shot a black look at the marquess before reluctantly taking himself off towards the paddock.
Miranda turned to go as well.
“Mrs. Ransford,” repeated Julian softly. “Just how is it that you choose to go by that name?”
She spun around. “I’ll not have Justin subject to vicious taunts of being a bastard, so yes, I go by ‘Missus.’ As for Ransford, it was my grandmother’s maiden name.” Her chin rose a fraction. “I don’t think she would begrudge me its use, as my own is no longer welcome to me.”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “You might have kept Grosvenor,” he said in a near whisper.
Her face betrayed a flicker of emotion, then just as quickly hardened into a stony mask. “I don’t want it—nor am I entitled to it anymore, milord,” she replied coldly. “Now, if you will excuse me?—”
“M … Miranda.”
She froze at the sound of her name on his lips, her face going a ghostly pale.
“Despite what you may think, I … I never meant for you to suffer such …” His words caught in his throat as he seemed to grope for how to go on. “That is, Aunt Sophia only lately informed me of what your circumstances have been for these past seven years. I—I never knew.” He hesitated, looking strangely uncertain. “I would like to see that you receive a yearly sum?—”
“My circumstances are no longer any of your concern.” With that, she whirled and fled from the barn.
The kitten jumped back from the bowl as a string of low oaths exploded from the marquess’s lips. They trailed off into an exasperated sigh as he raked his hand through his hair, then limped off to meet his son.
The one theycalled McTavish slipped into a seat at the back of the smoky tavern and signaled for the barmaid to bring him a tankard of ale. The two others at the small table scraped their chairs in a little closer.
Scofield spoke without preamble, his voice low so that no one else could overhear. “We’ve discovered he’s a bloody marquess. And what’s more, he was in the army until the injury to his leg forced him to sell out.”
A look of grave concern crossed the face of his ginger-haired companion. “Think he has anything to do with the government?” he asked haltingly.
“Don’t be such a lily-livered goose, Gibbs,” growled Scofield, giving his companion a look of disgust. “I’ve sussed out that he’s got a minor estate nearabouts, so there’s nothing too suspicious about him paying a visit.” As he spoke, his eyes sought assurance from the obvious leader.
