The Earl's Mistaken Bride - By Abby Gaines Page 0,76

“If you can catch them. I’ve been

trying to talk to Harper for days. He makes sure he’s

never alone with me.”

“Did you two argue?”

“Not exactly.” Miriam hesitated. Then she told

Constance what she’d recently discovered: Tom Harper

was illiterate. She explained how Tom had managed to

conceal his problem. Constance was shocked.

“So how did he come to tell you of this?” she asked

her maid. The blush in Miriam’s cheeks was all the

answer she needed.

“I assume it’s an issue of pride for him, as far as

you’re concerned,” Constance said.

Miriam nodded. “Made worse by my habit of reading

anything and everything, and telling him my thoughts

on it. I admit, my lady, I was shocked when he told me,

and perhaps my shock was hurtful to him. But I love

him, and I don’t care if he can’t read. I’ll teach him

myself.”

She looked as if she wanted to rush from the room

right now to offer the valet lessons.

“Be careful,” Constance cautioned her. “Rushing in

where angels fear to tread will not help.”

“I’ll be careful,” Miriam promised. “You won’t tell

Lord Spenford, will you, my lady?”

“Of course not.” Marcus would be too proud to

accept an illiterate valet, would consider it beneath him.

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How burdened Tom must be, Constance realized,

knowing his position would be lost if Marcus

discovered the truth—their old friendship would count

for nothing. Tom must feel there was no way he could

live up to the standard Marcus required; concealment of

failure was the only solution.

Marcus labored under the same burden, she realized.

He believed he hadn’t attained his father’s exacting

standard before his father died. That he’d somehow

fallen irrevocably short.

“My poor darling,” she murmured, eliciting a curious

glance from Miriam.

If only Marcus—and Tom, for that matter—could

understand that the Heavenly Father accepts us with all

our shortcomings, that none of us can measure up

except by God’s grace…

Did Marcus know that she accepted him with all his

shortcomings? The same way she wanted him to accept

her? Because how could they be happy, unless they

were both willing to extend grace and forgiveness to the

other?

I will tell him.

I WILL TELL HIM, Miriam resolved yet again. This

time, she wouldn’t let Tom fob her off.

She found him polishing the earl’s riding boots,

almost a sacred duty, the amount of care that went into

it. She slipped into the boot room, and closed the door

behind her—Mrs. Matlock would definitely disapprove.

He looked up, then glowered. “I don’t want to talk

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THE EARL’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

about it.”

“Well, I do.” She sat down on the step in front of the

door. “Your…thing…”

“You mean, the fact I can’t read?”

She should have prepared better. She weighed words,

found none of them ideal. “It’s nothing to be ashamed

of,” she assured him. “I mean, everyone can’t read at

some time or other. I can help you. I’ll teach you.”

One precious, expensive boot hit the floor with a

crash that didn’t speak well for its future appearance.

“Stop,” Tom ordered. “You think you’re so clever,

that every thing’s so easy.”

“I’m offering to help you.”

“What if I can’t do it?” The words were wrenched

from him. “What if I can never read?”

“Of course you can.” She prayed she was right.

“You’re clever, I’ve always thought that.”

He stuffed newspaper into the left boot, to help hold

its shape. “What if I don’t want to learn?”

The question stopped her in her tracks. “Why

wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I have no interest.” His defiance reminded

her of her younger brothers.

“That’s stupid,” Miriam said, just as she would have

to one of her brothers.

“You see,” he said bitterly. “You think I’m stupid,

now you know I can’t read.”

“Well, you are stupid, if you think I think you’re

stupid,” she flashed.

She’d confused both herself and him. They stared at

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each other, both breathing heavily.

“I don’t want a wife who’s above me,” Tom said,

with a finality that brought tears to her eyes.

Still, she tried again. “You think you have to be

superior to your wife in every way?”

“I don’t mind if she’s a better cook and housekeeper.”

“You’ve been with Lord Spenford too long,” she said.

“This is pride, pure and simple.”

He shook his head. “It’s about knowing where I

belong. A man shouldn’t get above himself. It’s not

right and it only brings trouble.”

By trouble, he meant pain, she guessed. He was

thinking of how he’d considered Lord Spenford a

friend, only to have their differences separate them. But

that wouldn’t happen with her and Tom. She suspected

she could repeat that until she turned blue in the face,

but he would never believe her.

Frustration mounted, which meant any second now

she would burst into tears. She couldn’t bear him to see

that.

“That’s it, Tom Harper, I wash my hands of you,” she

said. “Give me a humble man who appreciates being

loved, rather than a proud… blockhead!

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