Page 76 of My Wicked Earl
Lord Hamill wandered off, probably to drink the brandy Colin knew he’d been stealing from the sideboard in Cam’s study.
Lord Ridley jarred the senses with his coat of bright yellow, looking like a large, mustached, canary. He wandered off to smoke a cheroot and was joined by Lord Cottingham. Which was just as well because Lord Cottingham rarely spoke and was not known for saying anything interesting when he did.
Four agonizing hours later, Colin thankfully found himself back at Gray Covington.
Now he stood in the conservatory, pretendingnotto watch Miranda when in fact he could look at nothing else. Lady Barbara, a gorgeous redhead, failed to hold his attention, even though under ordinary circumstances he would find her quite attractive.
Something beckoned him to look up.
Green eyes shone like emeralds from across the room to meet his. She wore her hair down this evening, the ebony strands falling in a heavy mass of curls to her waist. Small diamond pins held the inky tresses back at her temples to reveal tiny diamonds glinting in her ears.
The punch of desire to his gut was swift as he caught her eyes. He could not remember a time when he didn’t want Miranda.
You belong to me Colin Hartley.
Always.
His lips formed the word even as he watched Ridley make his stumbling way over to Miranda, a toothy smile on his face. The viscount consumed a considerable amount of wine at dinner and it looked like he was still imbibing.
Ridley cupped Miranda’s elbow and pulled her towards the doors open to the gardens.
Miranda did not shake him off.
“Lord Kilmaire?” A hand lightly touched Colin’s arm. “Are you feeling well?”
Colin gave a polite nod of his head. “Lady Cambourne.”
“You’ll pardon me for saying, but you look a bit green.” She turned her head towards the terraced doors. “The wine sauce for the quail was perhaps a bit rich?”
“Dinner was delicious, my lady, though I feel the need for some air. Perhaps a cheroot. A walk around the gardens should set me to rights.”
“I do not think a walk in the gardens will prove as beneficial for Lord Ridley,” her voice was polite, but her eyes glinted with mischief. “He’s had a bit more to drink than is wise and itisdark. I do hope he doesn’t trip.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Lady Cambourne, Lady Barbara.” Colin executed a small bow before leaving both women, his attention taken with the crawl of Ridley’s hand on Miranda’s back.
“Enjoy the air,” Alex said as he walked away.
17
“Ifind Bath a most delightful escape from London, Lady Miranda,” Ridley droned in her ear. “Lady Radford is a dear friend of my mother’s and often invites our entire family to visit.” Ridley mentioned his association with Lady Radford, a wealthy duchess to whom he was distantly related, at least once a week. The constant name dropping was meant to impress Miranda. Unfortunately for Ridley she couldn’t care less where he visited. Or to whom he was distantly related.
She gave a small dip of her head as if she were listening. She wasn’t. Not in the least.
Miranda allowed her mind to wander while Ridley prattled on about Lord Montieth’s hunting lodge. She knew from past experience that she need only blink and nod while he spoke, for he rarely asked her opinion. Not that she had an opinion about Lady Radford or Lord Montieth.
Her anger at Lady Helen had cooled somewhat in the peace of the garden. She should tell Grandmother to put the Cottinghams out on their ears for Lady Helen’s behavior, but then chastised herself for allowing the girl to get to her. Miranda had weathered worse. It was simply because Miranda knew that Colin was intent on marrying Lady Helen.
“Do you know who I saw riding, just the other day on Rotten Row?”
Goodness, she’d nearly forgotten about Ridley.
“I’ve no idea.”
Rotten Row was something Miranda tended to avoid, as riding there had been a favorite activity of her mother’s. She did love Hyde Park though. Colin used to take her there after they’d visited the museum or attended a lecture. Once he’d taken her for a lemon-flavored ice, laughing as she took a bite and succeeded in getting some on her nose.
Then he kissed her, his mouth cold and tasting of lemon.
Ridley continued to speak, the smell of wine on his breath quite noticeable. The peppermints did not mask the scent of his overindulgence at dinner. She thought it ironic that Ridley always informed anyone who would listen thatshewas a chatterbox.
