“Is that why you claimed it as your own when you were still alive?” Miranda asked. Uncle Jonathan could have had his desk, spyglass, and all manner of personal items in nearly any room at Hollybrook Park that overlooked the sea. Yet, he’d chosen to be high up and away from everyone else. Perhaps the two of them were more alike than she’d care to admit.
“It’s quiet,” he grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to be somewhere else or doing whatever it is that needs to be done before this manor is invaded by unwanted guests.”
“They aren’t unwanted,” Miranda reminded him. “They are friends and family.”
“They’re unwanted by me.”
“Jonathan!” Her Grace castigated. “Why are you being so difficult?”
He simply lifted an eyebrow and stared at her as if she already knew his reasons.
“Yes, well, nothing can be done about our current state until other matters take place.”
What other matters? Miranda wanted to ask but since it was clearly private given how Her Grace had emphasized her words, Miranda refrained from asking. However, that wouldn’t keep her from prying later.
“Bloody hell!” Wesley crossed his forearm over his eyes to block out all light and reconsidered whether he should pull himself from the bed. Not only was his head pounding, but his stomach churned at the mere thought of movement.
He hadn’t meant to overindulge last evening. It had simply happened. In fact, he was certain that he’d remained sober enough to remain circumspect in choosing any words, especially any confession with regard to his feelings for Miranda. However, as his head and stomach could now attest, he’d been much further into his cups than he realized and hoped he’d not said anything that would come back to haunt him.
Haunt!
He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. It wasn’t the same type of haunting that fascinated Miranda, but any revelation could be just as frightening.
As he lay there, Wesley thought back over the conversations that had taken place, and as he recalled Somerton’s concerns with being a good husband and Lynwood’s with regard to being a first time father, as they became further inebriated, Wesley’s confidence grew in that he’d not confessed his love for Miranda.
Though he’d not voiced his innermost thoughts, Miranda plagued Wesley when he finally found his slumber. Her smile, her hair, the one kiss they had shared, and every moment he’d spent in her company. It wasn’t any wonder that he was still tired. If the pounding in his head would ease, Wesley would happily give into oblivion. But, as he knew from experience, only two things could cure him: a distasteful cup of willow bark tea followed by a strong cup of coffee. He just hoped both were to be had at Hollybrook Park.
Why hadn’t Miranda simply told him the truth? Instead, she had created a ghost to explain her absence from the ball.
Yet, he still loved her. She, however, clearly did not share his feelings and as nothing more could ever come of their association, he determined that it was best to remain distant during his stay. As wedding guests would be arriving today, it would be easier to be lost in the crowd. Though, he’d still need to stay close to Grandmother.
With those thoughts, Wesley managed to pull himself from the bed, dress for the day and make his way downstairs.
“Ah, I see you’ve decided to join us,” his grandmother called as he entered the drawing room.
It was far too bright in here for his peace of mind and head, so he found a chair away from the sunlight filtering in from the gardens. Given the later hour, he hadn’t even visited the breakfast room as he was certain nothing remained of the morning meal. Not that he would have risked trying to eat anything until his stomach settled.
“I’ve requested Cook to prepare a cup of willow bark tea followed by a strong cup of coffee.”
Wesley blinked at his grandmother and she merely laughed. “You don’t think I noticed your morning habits after a night of indulgence?”
He honestly hadn’t.
“I’m not so foolish to believe that as I was finding my slumber in London that you were doing the same.” She smirked. “Notice I said slumber since I’m quite confident that there were times you were seeking out a bed.”
His face burned. “Grandmother!” Wesley chastised and quickly looked about to make certain they were alone.
“Oh, don’t be a bore, darling. Had you retired as had I,