the vestry,” he repeated as though thinking back on her words. “Where we were married.”
She glanced up and found him studying her. “Yes,” she said.
He sighed. “And so you married me.”
She took a shallow breath. “You see, when I met you in the vestry that day, I too thought this is a man who is fearless. Who won’t run away from things…” She bit her lip.
“Who won’t leave you,” he finished for her.
Stiffly, she nodded, unable to look him in the eye for fear that she would fall upon him and tell him how very much he was coming to mean to her. Her emotions felt too raw, and her pride too tender, for such needy protestations.
For a moment, he seemed almost afraid, then his body steeled as if in defiance, toward her or someone else, she couldn’t know. His eyes burned into her. “Then I will not.”
Chapter Sixteen
Oh! Isn’t it simply darling?”
Poppy’s eyes narrowed over the elaborate lime silk hat poised in Daisy’s hand. “Rather, the most hideous thing in creation.”
Daisy set the hat down with a little sniff. “What you know of fashion, I could fit in a snuff box. Is that a snood you’re wearing in your hair?” Daisy glanced at Miranda with blue eyes that twinkled. “Good lord, I haven’t worn one of those since we were in pinafores.”
“And what you know about the rest of the world, Dandelion,” Poppy cut in sharply, “could fit in my—”
Miranda lifted a bolt of India silk high for inspection, cutting off her line of fire. “Look at this cloth,” she said brightly. “Didn’t Mama have a dress made from this exact pattern when we were girls?”
Daisy ran a gloved finger down the shimmering saffron length. “I do believe she did.” She shrugged. “I suppose old is new again.”
Poppy muttered something about how Daisy ought to know as much firsthand. At the time, Miranda thought it a good idea to take her sisters shopping, believing an outing with Daisy and Poppy might be a fine distraction to the dilemma of Archer.
For days now, the man moved through the house like twilight shadows, there yet shifting away from her should she come too near. Though if she were absolutely truthful with herself, they had been avoiding each other, neither of them feeling so inclined as to discuss what had occurred that night. What did one say? You have touched me, brought me indescribable pleasure. I want more. I want you. Miranda fought off a blush.
No, she would not be the first to succumb. It was too humiliating. She sighed as she opened her mouth to break up yet another squabble when a familiar face flashed among the throngs of shoppers who milled about Liberty & Co.: the slanting gray eyes and dark curling hair of Victoria.
“Do you know her?”
Daisy’s idle question made Miranda jump within her skin.
Miranda smoothed a hand over the silk, feeling the cool through her glove. “Only by introduction.” She glanced sharply at Daisy. “Do you?” She had quite forgotten that Daisy was a veritable walking Debrett’s Peerage.
“Of course.” She tilted her head as Poppy drew near to listen. “Victoria Allernon.”
“Allernon?” It was a jolt to Miranda’s middle. “She told me her name was Archer.”
“As in your husband, Archer?” Poppy’s fine nostrils flared as if catching wind of the hunt.
“She claims to be a cousin to Archer,” Miranda said in a low voice, the three of them tracking Victoria with their eyes while trying, somewhat badly, to look absorbed in the cloth before them.
“A fine thing to say,” said Daisy. “And hardly likely. Though she does know Archer.” Her golden curls swung low as she leaned farther in, the gleam of gossip animating her eyes. “Eight years back, she was heavily involved with a young Lord Marvel…”
The pit of Miranda’s stomach pitched and rolled. She clutched the fabric to steady herself.
“Apparently, Archer objected. Whether it was because he had formed an attachment to Miss Allernon himself or because he had a strong dislike for Marvel in general is unclear.” Daisy took the bunched cloth from Miranda’s stiff hands and folded it. “No one had ever seen Lord Archer in Miss Allernon’s company so the whole reason for the argument remains shrouded in mystery. At any rate, the two men came to blows. Poor Lord Marvel was left a babbling shell of a man, and Archer quick-footed it out of town.”
“Daisy Margaret Ellis Craigmore!” Poppy’s eyes flashed under censorious brows. “I cannot believe you refrained from giving Miranda this