Page 14 of My Wicked Earl
Unfortunately, Miranda’s heart refused to see the difference.
Determined, as she often was, to push Colin from her mind, she gave her full attention to her two suitors, Lord Ridley and Lord Hamill. She’d gone nearly a whole day without thinking of Colin when Lady Dobson appeared for tea the day before.
Lady Dobson was not a favorite of the Cambourne family, particularly the Marquess and his Marchioness. She’d once chaperoned Miranda’s sister-in-law, Alexandra, and it had not gone well. Grandmother still received Lady Dobson on occasion when she wished to hear all of the latest gossip; after being in bed for the last week with a nasty cold, Grandmotherhadreceived her.
Lady Dobson, thin lips sipping at her tea, confided to Grandmother that the Earl of Kilmaire mightdofor Lady Dobson’s unfortunate niece, Miss Margaret Lainscott. Cursed and damaged though he was, Lord Kilmaire was still anearl. Lady Dobson cautiously broached the topic to Grandmother, the enormous peacock feather decorating Lady Dobson’s ridiculous blue turban waving in the air as if hailing a hackney.
Turbans.The style was outdated. Miranda herself could never fathom why turbans became a fashion to begin with. Something to do with India, Grandmother claimed. Regardless, Lady Dobson seemed not to care. She was never seen without one perched on her head. Odd that one never saw the lady’s own hair. Ever. Not so much as a wisp ever escaped the confines of the turbans.
Perhaps she doesn’t have any of her own hair.
Miranda giggled out loud, imagining Lady Dobson bald, sitting at tea and conversing with Grandmother. She’d have to tell Alex, her sister-in-law, what she suspected.
‘Lord Thurston wrapped one arm about Marcella’s waist, his touch as assuring as it was alluring.’
Her neck prickled in sudden awareness just before she felt the press of lips against her hair.
“Lord Thurston? Howscandalous,Lady Miranda.”
Shocked, Miranda attempted to sit up but only succeeded in banging the top of her head against the edge of the table behind her and unseating a tepid cup of tea she’d long since forgotten about. Crumbs from a half-eaten raisin cake scattered down the front of her gown and into the crevices of the couch. Horrified that he’d taken her unaware and found her in such a state, she pulled the pillow and Lord Thurston against her, as if either would protect her from the man looking down at her.
The seductive whisper against her ear must have been imagined, she thought, for certainly there was nothing but a look of annoyance in Colin’s cold, dark eyes. No matter how hard she looked, she never saw any indication that he cared or even remembered that he’d broken her heart. Ruined her.
Bastard.Cursing him, even if only in her mind, felt empowering. And just then, with Colin Hartley staring her down, Miranda needed all the courage she could muster.
Lifting up her chin and composing her features, she summoned up the superior manner that had been her mother’s trademark. Difficult to be haughty with bits of raisin cake crumbs clinging to her bodice and the tea-soaked strands of her hair sticking to her neck, but, still, she thought her look appropriately frosty. Pursing her lips as if sucking a lemon, she gave a brief nod.
“Lord Kilmaire. What an unexpected pleasure.”
“Yes, I’m certain it is.”
Colin did have the most amazing eyes, deep and fathomless. Difficult not to get lost in them, even under the present circumstances. Framed by sooty lashes that any woman would envy, his eyes tipped up slightly at the corners, almost catlike. The dark eyes and lashes were a sharp contrast to the color of his hair, which shone like a burnished gold guinea. The other Colin had worn his hair cropped close to his skull. The thick strands of the Earl of Kilmaire’s hair scraped the top of his broad shoulders, as if he couldn’t be bothered to cut it. He probably couldn’t. It was unfashionably long. Very un-earl like.
A lock of gold fell across the scar, as he inspected her, clearly annoyed with her caustic welcome.
Did he expect to be greeted with open arms?
He moved a bit closer, a large, gorgeous male hovering over her, and Miranda’s heart tripped. She could smell the soap he’d used, a clean scent she found intoxicating.
“I beg your pardon for startling you. Mydeepestapologies.”
Well that was something, the sarcasm in his tone.Thatsounded like Colin Hartley and not the Frost King better known as the Earl of Kilmaire.
“If you are here to see my brother, Lord Kilmaire, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.” Why wouldn’t her heart be still? “Sutton and Alex left for Gray Covington several days ago with the children. I’m so sorry you’ve braved this dreadful weather for nothing.” Good Lord, she sounded just like her mother. “Allow me to ring for Bevins to show you out.”
“I’m not here to see Cam, though I would like to discuss why your brother feels the need to employ ancient butlers. The man is eighty if he’s a day. I became concerned that he would expire before he made it up the stairs.”
“Bevins has been with us for many years. I’m sure you’ve encountered him before,” she said pointedly. Bevins had chanced upon Colin and Miranda once, and it was only due to the poor lighting that the butler didn’t see Colin’s hand cupping her breast. A miracle made possible only by a servant who neglected to light the lamps in the front drawing room.
A hungry look caressed the tops of her breasts.
Hedidremember.
“Bevins’s loyalty and devotion to our family is treasured. You may not value such things, Lord Kilmaire, but I assure you my brother does.”
Colin’s mouth twisted in a mocking grin.
“You find loyalty amusing?” How dare he show such a lack of respect towards Bevins.
