and to come back to Hertfordshire to help us.”
“Miri—”
“He was very kind,” said Miranda brightly. “We left London this morning. You should have seen him, William, he was splendid, he truly was. I thought Aunt Beatrice should have an apoplexy and die on the spot.”
“Miri—”
“You had better go to bed now, William,” she said hastily. “It’s getting late.”
“I’m not tired,” said William, his mouth set in a stubborn line that ten years ago would have signaled the onset of a pout.
Miranda smiled in spite of herself. “Well, I am,” she said, rising to her feet and kissing her brother firmly on the forehead. “It’s been a very long day for me. I’m going to retire now. Have a good night, dear. We’ll talk more in the morning. I’m afraid we have a great deal of work ahead of us if we’re to undo the damages Uncle Clarence managed to inflict on Thornwood, and we’ll want to begin right away. I’ll start going through the accounts immediately.”
She almost made it to the doorway when William asked, “Is Jason Blakewell still here?”
She paused without turning. “Yes,” she said softly. “He’s still here.”
“How long does he intend to stay?”
She caught her breath. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think—I think he’ll be gone in the morning.”
“I see,” said William, without inflection.
Miranda turned and managed another bright smile for his sake. “Goodnight, darling,” she said. “Don’t fret too much. We’ll settle everything in the morning.”
But when she had left the Peacock Room, instead of retiring to her bedchamber, she made her way slowly to the gardens. What she had told William was true. Jason was going, of course; he had no reason to remain. Hertfordshire was the land of his childhood and his past; his future was in London now, and he certainly did not love her anymore. He was going to be out of her life again, and this time, like before, she could do nothing to keep him here. But ten years ago he had wanted her to go with him; now he wanted only to be rid of her. His behavior that morning in the carriage had certainly been ample evidence of his current feelings toward her.
Well, she had learned to live without him once, a long time ago. Only she did not think she would survive the lesson a second time.
In the library, Jason poured himself a glass of brandy. He had spent the day in the village, tracking down all the old Thornwood retainers, and bringing them back to the estate at Miranda’s request. Seeing his old friends, the closest people he had ever had to a family, had thawed something that had lay frozen and dormant inside him for a very long time.
Now he tried to consider his next step. He had behaved very badly toward Miranda that morning, he knew, but after ten years of guarding himself against emotion, the intimacy of the night before had shaken him, and he had needed to distance himself from her in order to concentrate on the damnable mess at Thornwood.
Now, standing in her father’s library—the room he had never been permitted to enter when he had lived at Thornwood—he knew with a bone deep certainty he could not bear leaving her a second time. Oliver had been right. Ten years ago she had been very young, and he would not hold the past against her.
But now a new and terrible fear gripped him. He did not know if Miranda had any desire to marry him. She had admitted she came to him freely, but she was still the daughter of a viscount, and though he could now offer her wealth and a life of comfort, he did not know if it was enough. No matter how much money he made, he could not alter the circumstances of his birth.
The door suddenly opened, interrupting his thoughts. A tall, slender figure, neatly garbed and impeccably groomed, came inside the room. Jason had not seen William, Lord Thornwood, for over ten years; the last time they had met, William had been six years old, but Jason recognized him immediately. He had the look of his sister—dark hair, large eyes set in a narrow and sensitive face.
Emotion, sudden and unexpected, rushed through him as he watched the boy cross the length of the library. He had helped William mount his first pony, had taught him to fish in the streams running through Thornwood land, had shown him how to skip smooth stones across the