The Fairy Tale Bride

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Miranda slipped soundlessly into the darkened main hallway of Anderlin. She stopped for a moment to shoot the bolt, leaning against the sturdy oak door. Safe.

Gradually, the trembling within her abated as she drew strength from the peaceful familiarity of Anderlin at night. No servants or younger sisters stirred to ask embarrassing questions, or silently note her discomposure.

The incident yesterday had affected her more than she supposed. As she walked the familiar pathway from the village to Anderlin she had seen highwaymen in every sway of a tree branch in the breeze.

She straightened and headed for the library to check on Valentine. What was she going to do now? Simon seemed intent upon marrying her, Valentine upon marrying her off. And now, at the whim of a scoundrel, she had lost her chance to put the family finances back in order for a while longer.

Her hands clenched. If she had carried a small dagger or a pistol with her, maybe she would have had a chance to fight the cutthroat off. It was amazing the way he had known she had something hidden beneath her skirts, almost as if he could read her mind.

She felt a shiver go through her. He had been one of the meanest, ugliest creatures she had ever had the misfortune to meet. She would never forget the stink of his breath, nor the bushy dark beard that hid his face from her. She hoped never to come across him again.

She entered the darkened study quietly, so as not to disturb Valentine if he were sleeping. The fire had burned low and she could make out only a shadowy outline in the chair by the fire. The sound of his breathing was even and light. She hoped he slept soundly, for then she could avoid any awkward questions.

With an ease born of a lifetime’s familiarity, she moved carefully through the darkness. One thing she needed, whether he approved or not, was a medicinal glass of brandy to steady her nerves.

She nearly dropped the crystal decanter when she heard the duke’s familiar voice. “How does the invalid you tended fare, Miss Fenster?”

She whirled to face the figure in the chair. If he was still here, it meant that he intended to try once more to convince her that the marriage was necessary. She would need all her wits about her. Looking at him she had to suppress a shiver of anticipation when it crossed her mind that he might kiss her yet again in his attempt to change her mind. “Where is Valentine?”

Fortunately, he dispelled the image of a passionate embrace when he said calmly, “I imagine he has quite sensibly retired, considering the hour. I expect he thought you would stay the night with your invalid.

She flushed in the dark, wondering what had possessed her to think of kissing when she needed to think of how to convince him that she was not interested in marrying him. “Yes. Well, as you can see, I did not.” She replaced the lid on the decanter, and put the bottle back. She wasn’t comfortable taking a drink with Simon present.

“What kind of an illness was it, Miranda, to be over so quickly?” he asked.

Miranda frowned. She felt that if she told another lie to him she would become the poor bitter girl in the tale who spit frogs and snakes when she spoke. “That is of no consequence, Your Grace. No doubt you wish to discuss another, more pertinent matter, but I’m afraid this very conversation with you is improper. Perhaps we should continue it tomorrow, in Valentine’s presence.”

“I will be taking my leave at sunrise.” He rose from the chair and crouched by the fire. “Besides, I find I enjoy speaking with you at night, by firelight. And my question is a simple one — do you wish to be married here, in your family home?”