who had treated her so callously.
“Shall I ask the landlord where her ladyship is, my
lord?” Harper asked faintly.
Marcus shook his head. “I’ll find her. You go to your
Miriam.”
Both men stood rooted to the spot. Both reluctant to
take a step that could seal their fate.
“Afraid, Harper?” Marcus taunted him.
“Are you, my lord?” came the reply.
“Impudence!” Marcus said. Then, “If you must know,
I’m terrified.”
“Me, too,” Harper said glumly.
“But we are men of courage.” Marcus rallied him.
“We’re Englishmen!”
“Englishmen likely to get a box around the ears,”
Harper said.
Marcus grinned at the thought of Constance boxing
his ears. He considered himself fairly safe from that
particular punishment. No, if she wished to hurt him, all
she had to do was refuse to come home.
His smile faded. “I’m going in.”
TOM FOUND MIRIAM at the big table in the servants’
dining room, the remains of the meal being cleared by a
scullery maid. He took a moment to scrutinize her from
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the doorway. Her dear, angular face, her straight brown
hair. Her keen eyes, observing the men and women
around the table…and now observing him.
She pushed her chair back from the table. “Tom?
What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Her
blue eyes were wide with anxiety.
He beckoned to her to join him out in the yard—noisy
as it was, it offered more privacy than indoors. But
when he had her there, standing so close he could smell
starch and lavender soap, he was as tongue-tied as a
green boy. “Tom, what’s happened? ” she urged.
So much, he didn’t know where to start. Then,
suddenly, he did.
“I told Lord Spenford I can’t read nor write,” he said.
Miriam gasped. “Tom, you great looby, what did you
go doing that for?” But she clutched his hand in a way
he found most encouraging. “I suppose he dismissed
you? That’s downright wicked.” Her indignation on his
behalf was also, he considered, a positive sign.
“His lordship’s keeping me on, and he’s hiring a tutor
for me,” Tom said. The earl had announced that
intention in one of the brief periods during their journey
where Tom had been capable of listening. “Who knows,
I might even be able to read the Bible one day.”
“I could tutor you,” she said, offended. Then she
blushed. “Except, you might not want me to.”
“That I wouldn’t,” he said. Her face fell. “You’d be
forever nagging me, and you know I don’t take well to a
woman telling me what’s what.”
She started to smile. “True, you’re right old-
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fashioned in many ways.” She stuffed her hands into the
pockets of her dress. “It’s not as if I could tutor you
anyway, since I’ll be at Chalmers and you’ll be in
London, at least until the Season ends. But maybe, you
know, when you can write something, you could
practice by writing a letter to me.”
He had the idiotic notion of writing her a love letter.
Which would be the last thing he needed to do if things
went according to plan and she was right beside him as
his wife.
“Maybe you won’t be at Chalmers,” he said. “His
lordship came to talk to Lady Spenford.” He shuddered
at the thought of the journey he’d endured. “I believe
he’ll ask her to return to London.”
Miriam tut-tutted. “He can ask.”
“You don’t think she’ll agree?” Tom said. “She’s his
wife.”
“As his lordship now remembers.” Miriam gnawed at
her lip. “Lady Spenford is very upset, Tom. She won’t
settle for less than a complete about-face by Lord
Spenford.”
Tom tried to imagine his employer abasing himself to
such an extent. And failed.
“So if you’re in London and I’m at Chalmers…”
Miriam said.
“No!” Tom whipped off his hat. “Miriam, I love you.
I want to marry you.”
Going by her utter shock, by the sag of her jaw, he
hadn’t conveyed that yet. He took advantage of her
unusual silence. “If Lady Spenford won’t come to
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London, then maybe you could leave her and find a
position with another lady.” Though it was rare, perhaps
unheard of, for a lady’s maid or a valet to be married.
“Or we can both go to Chalmers and work in the
house,” he said. “Our positions wouldn’t be so
important, but I have some money saved. Or—or we
can both leave, and open a shop. Be master and mistress
of ourselves, raise a handful of children.”
She was still staring at him.
“Do you hear me, Miriam?” he asked. “I can’t read,
and maybe I never will be able to, but I love you and I
don’t want to live without you. You’re above me in just
about everything—good sense, good looks—” She
laughed. At last he was getting through to her. “So I
suppose I can get over you being above me in reading.
I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be together.”
Miriam let