Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,216

began to collapse, and she started falling forward. A scream ripped from her being as she began to plunge into the dark void right before a strong arm wrapped about her middle, pulling her back from a certain death.

Miranda gasped, her heart pounding as Epworth pulled her into his arms.

It wasn’t proper, but she didn’t care. She held tight, her arms about him and her head against his chest.

As his hands smoothed up and down her back, Miranda began to relax.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“That was quite a stumble. I’m glad that I was here to catch you.”

Except, it wasn’t a stumble. She was pushed and quite forcefully, yet nobody else was here.

A chill skittered down her spine and Miranda shivered. She’d gotten her encounter with a ghost and it had not been a pleasant experience.

She tilted her head back to explain, but Epworth’s blue eyes were darkened with concern, studying her.

Oh, she could tell him, but he’d never believe her and truthfully, Miranda would like to just enjoy finally being in his arms.

He lifted a hand and tucked an errant curl behind her ear, then lowered his mouth to hers and before she could comprehend his actions, he was kissing her.

All fears fled.

Epworth was finally kissing her, and it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Maybe, just maybe, he did see her as more than a friend.

As he deepened the kiss, she clung tighter, tilting her head as she engaged him further. Goodness it was warm, and she experienced the most delightful sensations swirling about in her belly.

“Miranda, where have you gone off to?”

At someone calling, Epworth jerked away. “Forgive me.”

“For what?” she asked when she realized that he’d stepped away and a sudden chill swept over her.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

“I believe I allowed you to do so.”

“Miranda, where are you?”

That was her brother, Adam, and he sounded irritated. “I must go.”

She took a step away, but Epworth reached out and grasped her hand. “Will I see you at the ball tonight?”

Her stomach flipped with excitement. “Yes.”

“Save a waltz for me.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Miranda couldn’t help but grin as giddiness danced within her being as she ran off, hurrying down the foliage-lined path only to be brought up short by dark smoke that materialized into the most gruesome creature with black eyes. He wore charred peasant clothing from days of old and his skin appeared scorched.

Miranda stumbled back.

“Who are you?”

“A wish answered,” he sneered.

Her heart skipped, shocked that it had been granted. However, when she’d made the wish, she hadn’t anticipated the entity to be so frightening.

“Leave here!”

“I am.” Miranda grasped her throat in fear and glanced about. Epworth hadn’t followed and she was quite alone with this terrifying entity.

“If you step foot on Keyvnor land again, it will be the end of you.”

Miranda gulped. “I promise. I’ll leave right away.”

“And never return!” The peasant dissipated, leaving but a trace of smoke and the most unpleasant odor of burned…she didn’t even know how to describe the stench, but it made her nearly gag. Covering her mouth and nose, Miranda ran the rest of the way to find Adam waiting for her. As soon as she explained what had occurred, he grasped her arm.

“You’re leaving this instant,” Adam ordered.

Numbly she nodded, her heart beating heavily in her chest as she glanced back to where she’d come, but Epworth was nowhere to be seen. As much as she’d like to return to him, to the safety of his arms, Miranda knew that he’d never believe her and further, ignoring the entity’s orders would see her killed. Of that, she had no doubt.

Chapter 1

Three Months Later - Hollybrook Park, Cornwall, September, 1812

Miranda stretched her arms before her, pushing palms toward the ceiling and sighed. To think, if her sister, Diana wasn’t about to marry Lord Somerton, Miranda wouldn’t have been allowed to return to her favorite place in all of Hollybrook Park.

It wasn’t that Miranda didn’t like her family or the bedchamber she’d slept in since she was a girl, it was just that there was something magical about being in the attic set of rooms, with windows that allowed her to step out onto the roof, and onto what she’d decided would be her private terrace, and to look out over the ocean. Though she suspected that when this was designed, nobody had been thinking about whether it would be a lovely place to sit and enjoy tea. More likely, it served as a lookout

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