Page 10 of The Major's Mistake
“Until later.”
Miranda grabbedup a pair of worn stockings and jammed them into the small canvas valise. With a ragged sigh, she pulled open another drawer and began to take out the rest of her meager belongings.
So much for the assurance that the Marquess of Sterling never set foot in this area, she fumed. She knew she should never have left Scotland. How dare he appear to overturn her life once more!
Well, she wouldn’t have it.Not yet. They would come to grips with their son’s future when she decided it was time, not when he ordered her to do so.
The door to her bedchamber opened a crack, then Lady Thornton slipped in. “Miranda! What in heaven’s name are you doing? ”
Miranda didn’t answer, but opened the pine armoire and removed her only other gown.
“What is wrong, child?” continued her aunt. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
She stopped in the midst of stuffing the faded muslin in with the other items. “I have.”
Lady Thornton looked totally at a loss.
Miranda took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of her bed. “He’s here.”
“Julian?”The other lady gave a slight gasp. “Julian is here?” Her hand came to her throat. “You … saw him?”
She nodded, not daring to speak for a moment. “Last evening. We met by chance while I was gathering herbs by the lake. Then he … he came here this morning while you were visiting Mrs. Trowbridge.” Her voice wavered. He saw Justin. I had hoped that he might not think overly on the matter—but he was never a gudgeon, was he? Despite his other faults.”
“Oh, Miranda.” Lady Thornton sat down. “Does he know, then?”
She nodded again, unable to hide the pain in her eyes. “That is, if he believes me,” she added with a trace of bitterness.
Her aunt reached over to touch her hand. “What were you planning to do?”
“Go back to Scotland!” Her voice broke in a near sob. “That is, if you will lend me the money. I swear, I shall pay it back. I … I shall go into service if I have to?—”
“Calm yourself, my dear. It shall never come to that. If you are determined to return to Scotland, I shall of course come with you.” She paused for a moment. “I only ask that you consider it carefully. Naturally you are extremely upset at the moment, but are you very sure this is the right decision? You know you will have to face it at some time. Perhaps it’s best done now, when Justin is young.”
Miranda brushed at a tear. “Oh, Aunt Sophia—I don’t know!”
“Think on it tonight, at least,” she counseled.
“Very well.” Her eyes fell away to the tiny miniature of her son perched on the stand by her bed. “What would you do?” she asked after a long silence.
Lady Thornton shook her head sadly. “It is a choice only you can make, Miranda. But I have every confidence you will make the right one.”
Four
She put the note down and looked up over her spectacles at the tall liveried footman who stood rigidly in front of her desk. “You may tell His Lordship that I shall expect him at two o’clock.”
The man bowed and withdrew.
Lady Thornton regarded the bold script on the crested stationery. The formal request to see her came as no great surprise, and, if truth be told, even though she sympathized with Miranda’s feelings, she found herself looking forward to the meeting. A rather special bond had developed between herself and her nephew when he was at that awkward age between boy and man. She and her husband had resided near Crestwood, and while the late Marquess and his Marchioness chose to ignore the existence of their firstborn in order to spend most of their time in Town, she did not.
The young man was soon running tame in her home, rather than sit in the splendid isolation of his family’s estate. That he was lonely was clear. That he was a bright and sensitive lad was also more than apparent. They shared countless hours discussing a broad range of topics. He laughed at her interest in Scottish folk history, she teased him about his infatuation withsnakes, and they seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from each other’s company. When it was time for him to go down to Oxford, she felt almost as if she was parting from the son she never had.
Lady Thornton looked down again at the familiar handwriting. How quickly things could change. Her husband was carried off by a bout of influenza and soon after, she announced that she was moving to the wilds of the Highlands to pursue her scholarly interests. Her family had reacted with shocked disbelief—only the young Julian had encouraged her to follow her dreams.
She had seen a bit of him in London before departing for the north. His studies finished, he had come to Town like all the other young men of theton. But even though he was still the same intelligent, perceptive young man she had grown close to, she had not liked the crowd he had taken up with. It seemed to her they were a rather rackety bunch, with the leader the worst of the lot. Several years older than the rest, he seemed to exercise an inordinate amount of influence over the others, encouraging more drinking and gambling and reckless behavior than was good for them.
The few hints of advice had been met with a stony face. They were his friends, he had replied, and that was all there was to it. And so, Lady Thornton mused, she had held her thoughts to herself after that. He had had precious few friends growing up, so it was not to be wondered at that he should want to be part of a group. Still, she worried, and hoped he would outgrow them.
When he started courting Lady Miranda Hotchkiss, she had breathed a sigh of relief. Here was a young lady whose beauty was matched by her sharp mind and common sense. The two of them had sensed a mutual rapport during the few times they met, and Lady Thornton had felt her nephew could not have made a wiser choice.
