Part 26 (1/2)

She slept for most of the journey until he woke her when they were nearing Harrison's estate. She came up with a start, wide-eyed and absolutely beautiful. She leaned forward to see out the window, then reared back, pinched her cheeks, smoothed her hair, and turned toward the window to watch the scenery. Jared didn't press her-he looked out the opposite window.

There were carriages everywhere, footmen running back and forth, gentlemen and ladies standing in the drive and walking up the entry steps.

His coachman barreled around the circle, coming to an abrupt halt before the doors as two liveried footmen raced down the steps of the house to a.s.sist in helping them down.

Jared descended first, and turned, one hand behind his back, one hand held up to Ava. As he helped her out, Harrison appeared at the top of the steps and hurried down, his smile big and warm. Behind him, Stanhope chose to make a more subdued appearance by merely walking down the steps.

Harrison grabbed Jared in a big hug, squeezing tightly and clapping him soundly on the back, and remarked that marriage suited him very well.

Jared didn't bother to respond to Harrison, for his friend had already turned to Ava, grabbing her up in a bear hug, too, squeezing the breath from her by the look of it.

”Harrison, old chap,” Jared said, putting a hand to his shoulder. ”Please don't smother my wife.”

With a laugh, Harrison let her go. ”Lady Middleton, you are indeed looking quite healthy and happy in spite of the nuptials,” he said with a playful wink.

Unfortunately, Harrison had no idea how true that was.

”And how do you find Broderick Abbey?” he asked.

”Too large,” Jared said.

”And drafty,” she added, her smile seeming forced.

Harrison howled.

Stanhope put his arm around Ava and ushered her away. ”Allow me to rescue you from an ardent admirer,” he said. ”Harrison has reserved a special room for Lord and Lady Middleton, on the west side, so you'll be warm, and painted a bright yellow, so you will be gay. Francis will show you up,” he added, motioning for Harrison's butler to see them up.

”Have a bit of a rest, why don't you?” Harrison suggested behind her. ”We'll all gather for wine at eight, supper at ten, and the hunt will begin at daybreak on the morrow. Middleton,” he said, turning from Ava and winking slyly at Jared, ”I've a horse the likes of which you've not seen. She stands fourteen hands high, is as broad as a river. Would you like to see her?”

Jared glanced at Ava, who shrugged. ”I will be quite all right.”

”You're certain?”

”Of course,” she said, already climbing the stairs, Sally close behind her. Harrison's butler hurried to catch up to them, and Ava disappeared inside without looking back.

Harrison waited until she'd stepped inside before he turned, withdrew three cheroots from his pocket,and handed one to Jared, another to Stanhope. ”I bought her in Madrid, just last year. Had a Spaniardtrain her for the hunt. She's unbeatable,” he said, and gestured for them to walk to the stables.

Harrison had always been something of a horseman-racing ponies, big grays to pull his carriages, steeds for battle in the event he was ever called to war-and he was no less enthusiastic about this hunter. Jared pocketed the cheroot and listened to Harrison talk about his new horse.

He wasn't exaggerating-the hunter was a beauty, and Harrison was positively giddy with glee as he stroked her nose. Jared appreciated horses-and especially good horses-but not as much as Harrison. He bored of the fawning after a few minutes of it and stepped back, admiring the other horses stabled there as Harrison captured Stanhope and continued his intricate review of the new horse.

As Jared looked down the stalls, his eye caught sight of a familiar shape, and he turned fully.

Miranda was watching him, smiling softly. She was wearing a riding habit, her long dark red hair braided down her back, her hat tipped at a jaunty angle. She was holding a crop in her hand, and tapped it against her leg as the corners of her lips curled up into a sultry smile.

He started to move-to where, he didn't really know-but Harrison's hand to his arm stopped him.Startled, Jared looked at Harrison and was surprised at the look on his face. ”I didn't know she washere,” he said. ”I asked you here but to see my horse.”

”I know-”

”No,” Harrison said, shaking his head as he glanced down the stables at Miranda. ”We've known each other since we were lads, eh?” he asked, s.h.i.+fting his gaze to Jared. ”I wasn't aware she'd come with Westfall, or I certainly would have stopped her-”

”What?” Jared asked, having to force himself to focus on what Harrison was saying. ”There is nothing more between us.”

Harrison colored slightly. ”It's none of my affair, Middleton-but I'm not party to it.”

Jared was shocked. He and Harrison had been friends for years and never once, not once in all those years, had Harrison ever voiced his disagreement with something Jared did. For him to do so now pushed Jared under the surface.

Harrison obviously saw his surprise-he glanced sheepishly at his feet, then at Miranda from the corner of his eye. ”I happen to believe a vow taken before G.o.d should not be broken. Say what you will, but I believe it.” And with that he turned away from Jared and began to walk toward the stable doors, where Stanhope had already escaped. ”Wine at eight!” he said over his shoulder.

Jared didn't respond-he was stung by Harrison's admonishment that he be faithful to his wife. He had been faithful, hadn't even thought of Miranda since he'd decided to wed Ava. Yet his very best friend thought very little of his integrity. But why shouldn't he? More than once, Jared had bemoaned the fact that marriage would limit his ability to bed whomever he pleased.

He glanced again at Miranda, a woman who, he'd come to realize, thought more of his t.i.tle and money than she did of him. She was walking toward him, her hips moving seductively, her smile sultry, and all he could think was, what had he ever seen in her?

She stopped just inches from him and sank into a deep curtsy, her eyes never leaving his. She rose up, gave him a knowing smile, and s.h.i.+fted almost imperceptibly closer to him. ”You look very well.”

She looked older than he remembered, her skin a bit sallow. Not fresh. Not Ava.

”How are you faring?” she asked, her smile fading, her eyes searching his face.

How was he faring? He was miserable. He didn't really know who he was any longer. ”I'm fine.”

”I miss you terribly. I can't bear to be apart from you, Jared.”

He recoiled at the sound of his name on her breath. She used it easily, as easily as he used hers-and yet he could scarcely bring himself to say Ava's name aloud.

Ava was right.

That simple act, that intimate knowledge should be reserved for those he loved, and he hadn't had the courage to admit that perhaps he truly loved Ava.

Miranda was smiling up at him now, her eyes full of hope. She glanced around the stables, as did Jared, and saw only a stableboy, brus.h.i.+ng down a horse. ”Perhaps we could walk,” she said, moving closer. ” Someplace we might be alone and talk?”

”There is nothing to say.” He couldn't stop looking at her, trying to imagine himself with her. He couldn't understand why, since he'd been gone from London, he'd felt sheer joy some days and sheer despair other days. He couldn't understand how a few short months could change everything and feel like a lifetime.

”Have you received my letters? I wonder what you are doing every moment of every day...and night,” she added, letting her gaze drift down his body.

Where he once might have enjoyed illicit banter, now he found it obscenely faithless to his wife.

”You remember our nights, don't you, my love? Or has she captured your nocturnal imagination?”

His blood began to rise with anger. ”You have no right,” he said low, ”to inquire about the private affairs of my marriage.”

Miranda gasped. And then she laughed, the sound bursting forth from her lips. ”Oh my!” she cried, laughing. ”Your marriage? She's a poppet, darling, a girl with a womb. She's not a marriage.”