Page 67 of My Wicked Earl
“Wently tells me that Thrumbadge’s has had to replenish their stock twice and that’s not happened before. I am very proud of you, Colin.”
“Thank you, my lord. I had no idea that a story I wrote to entertain my uncle in his sickbed would prove to be so popular. Lord Wently has already urged me to write the second book while the demand remains strong.”
‘Lord Thurston Begins’,the saga of a young lord lost at sea for ten years, who returns to London to claim his estate and marry the woman he loved, had becomethenovel of the Season. The book was full of daring and frothy romantic escapades. No one would ever suspect the author to be a gentleman.
He’d never thought to actually profit from telling a story though he’d long kept a journal.Lord Thurstonbegan as a way to entertain his ailing uncle when the man’s illness left him bedridden. The servants of Estervale would sneak to sit outside of Uncle Gerald’s bedchamber to listen as Colin spun the tale for his uncle. They were his first critics, often adding bits and pieces he would later incorporate into the story.
“You were right, of course.”
Lord Cambourne reached over and patted Colin’s arm in affection. “How well I remember seeing you on your visits to Gray Covington, sitting under that giant oak tree. I could spy you from my study as I attended to business. You were always scratching away in that red leather notebook.”
“A gift from you, as I recall, my lord, one Christmas when you invited me to come to Gray Covington.” That had been a wonderful holiday, the best Colin ever had. Christmas for the Earl of Kilmaire and his family was a much more somber affair. No gifts were exchanged. No sweets or other treats prepared. Christmas at Gray Covington was something else entirely. Even Lady Cambournee took part in the merriment.
“And the stories you used to tell Miranda! I’ve you to thank for the mornings I spent hunting for leprechauns and wee folk in the gardens. I believe you convinced her a family of fairies made their home in the topiaries. She’s told those stories to Elizabeth, you know. I’m now looking for gnomes down in the basements, a candle clutched in one hand and my youngest daughter in the other.”
Elizabeth was a beautiful, gap-toothed girl of six who lisped a bit. Colin could not enter the Cambourne House without the youngest daughter of the Marquess of Cambourne tugging on his sleeve. Yesterday Elizabeth informed Colin that a troll lived under her nursemaid’s bed.
“Your daughters share a vivid imagination. Miranda is spinning her own stories I think.”
“It’s kind of you, to escort her about. With Sutton’s absence. . .” Lord Cambourne’s words trailed off and his handsome features took on a pinched look. Clearing his throat he continued, “I do appreciate you stepping in.”
“It’s no trouble at all, my lord. It’s my pleasure.” Lord Cambourne had no idea how much. It was a useful ruse. Pretending to be a somewhat put-upon family friend, it allowed Colin to escort Miranda to the bookstore or the museum. Sometimes they would take walks in the park.
A small smile tugged at Lord Cambourne’s lips. “Miranda can be challenging. Always chattering on about this and that. I’ve no idea how her mind works; it remains a constant mystery to me. Her current obsession appears to be ancient Egypt and mummies. I’m not sure it’s proper reading for a girl of her station, and Lady Cambourne despairs that Miranda’s interests will put off suitors.” Lord Cambourne shot Colin a rather pointed look and sipped his drink. “Doyouthink Miranda’s eccentricities would deter therightsuitor?”
“I believe, my lord,” Colin said quietly and firmly, “that the right gentleman will appreciate Lady Miranda and encourage her interests.”
“Such as escorting her to museums and lectures?” Lord Cambourne’s green eyes sparkled in the dim light of the study.
He knows.
“Yes, my lord. A man of honorable intentions who appreciates Lady Miranda for herself.”
“Very good.” Lord Cambourne nodded. “Very good indeed. I shall welcome this suitor with honorable intentions. I do hope he does not delay, for my daughter grows impatient.”
Colin took a small sip of the brandy he held and allowed the warmth from both the brandy and Lord Camborne’s approval to sink in. “I feel certain, my lord, that he will make an appearance quite soon.”
The conversation moved to other things as the storm raged outside, until the hour grew late, the clock striking midnight.
“Goodness,” Lord Cambourne set aside his glass and shot another look at the storm outside. “I believe I should retire. Bevins had prepared you a room.” He waved his hand as if anticipating Colin to protest again. “I cannot in good conscience send you out in this weather and well you know it. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Thank you, my lord. For everything.”
“You are most welcome, Colin. Most welcome. And I am incredibly pleased by developments,” he chuckled in a low tone, “since your return to London. In all respects.” He stood a bit unsteadily. “Stay and finish your brandy. One of the footmen will show you up when you’re ready. Perhaps the storm will give you creative inspiration.”
Colin sat and watched the fire for the longest time, sipping his brandy and listening to the rain dripping down the windows. He thought of the royalty check he’d received from Lord Wently. Of the kindness of Lord Cambourne. Of the gypsy in the woods and how wrong her prediction of Colin’s life had been. But mostly he thought of Miranda.
“COLIN?”
Miranda was lying next to him in the gardens of Gray Covington, her glorious ebony hair fanning out on the soft summer grass. Clad only in a very thin, very sheer chemise, her generous breasts were barely covered. She beckoned him with a seductive tilt to her lips as her fingers fell to the thin satin ribbon holding the garment together. Green eyes sparkled with promise as the ribbon slowly unfurled and the chemise opened.
Sun lit her naked body as Colin leaned forward to trail his lips across the top of breasts.
“Colin.”
Miranda writhed beneath his touch, her hand reaching up to caress his shoulder. She pressed her lips against his mouth.
“Colin, wake up.”
