Page 68 of The Major's Mistake
“Perhaps it’s time to remedy that,” he replied quietly.
Her mouth went very dry.
“Upon my word, guv, you’ve finally come to your senses! That’s the best idea you’ve had since engaging me as your batman.” Sykes rubbed at his chin. “Now let me see, first off, you’ll need a special license if you mean to put things right without any more delay.”
“It’s been in my desk for several weeks.”
The valet’s face was wreathed in a broad smile. “I always said you was a dab hand at planning. It’s still early—shall I fetch the vicar now?”
“Aye. And on your way back, you must stop and bring back my aunt and my son so they may be part of the celebration.” A wry smile. “Oh, and why not ask Angus and Jem to join us as well.”
His lips brushed against her forehead. “It may not be St. George’s in Hanover Square this time, my love, but we will have the people we care about most with us.” He looked back at Sykes. “Tell Cook she will have to outdo herself tonight, for we will be in need of a wedding supper.”
Miranda finally found her voice. “Have both of you taken leave of your senses? Mr. Sykes, you will ignore His Lordship’s orders. I fear he has succumbed to a sudden fever and has lost all reason.”
Julian chuckled. “I may be delirious, but only with happiness, my love. Now on your way, Sykes.”
“Mr. Sykes!” she protested, not daring to let herself believe she wasn’t dreaming.
“Sorry, milady.” He gave her a little wink. “But an order is an order, and I dare not disobey.”
“Wait!”
The valet hesitated.
The marquess’s brows rose in question.
Miranda took a deep breath. Things were happening at a dizzying rate. She needed a moment to collect herself and grasped at the one reason for delay that no man could possibly argue with. “For one thing, surely neither of you could expect a female to consent to being married dressed like this.”
Her gesture waved over her shabby gown—the frayed cuffs and hem, the discreetly mended tears and the faded color that now lingered somewhere between smoke and dust.
Sykes pursed his lips, unable to think of any reply, but the marquess merely smiled once more.
“Indeed not. Fortunately, there is a trunkful of Madame Celeste’s creations freshly arrived from London. Sykes, on your way downstairs, have one of the maids lay them out in the adjoining suite so that Miranda may take her choice. And make sure that she sees that dress—” He indicated the offending garment ”—is consigned to the ragbin where my wife will never have to lay eyes on it again.”
The valet dumped the forgotten tea tray on top of the marquess’s polished bureau and snapped a smart salute as he hurried from the room. The door came firmly shut behind him.
Overcome with confusion, Miranda fell silent and refused to meet Julian’s gaze.
The laughter died from his face. “I’m sorry. Good Lord, I’ve made a worse mull of things than before. I meant to pay my addresses properly and with polish this time, not stammer them out like some tongue-tied idiot.”
She murmured something, in so soft a voice that he had to ask her to repeat the words.
“I never thought of them as idiotic.”
“They were those of a callow schoolboy.” Julian gave a crooked smile. “I’ve composed a countless number of more eloquent speeches during the past few days, but I find all the fine words have suddenly deserted me.” He drew in a breath. “Canyou bring yourself to accept my proposal of marriage—along with my deepest regret for the pain of the past? I shall endeavor to be a better husband to you in the future”
Miranda looked up in shock.” You are apologizing?”
“Yes. I have come to realize I how pompous and foolish I was. We all make mistakes. Instead of trying to understand and work things out, I cast away the thing I loved best in a fit of childish pique. You may not countenance it, but I have suffered perhaps as much as you from it. I have missed you every day of these past seven years.”
Her head sank against his shoulder. “Yes, I made a mistake—but not the one you think. I should have come to you and forced to listen rather than retreat behind a wall of pride. Aunt Sophia has always said I was a fool to have given you up so easily. She might have made me see reason, but then … you were gone.”
“The past doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does, though.” She choked down a sob. “Julian, I cannot marry you.”
He went very pale. “Why not?”
