Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,251

for him.

Oh, why couldn’t she love someone else? Why did it have to be a gentleman that at best considered her a friend, and at worst, someone to seduce, but no more.

Epworth studied her, his blue eyes intense. “What do you mean? What don’t I see that is right before me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Miranda dismissed and walked away. She couldn’t tell him. The humiliation would be too much.

“Do you care for me, Miranda?”

His voice was so quiet, filled with concern, that it caused her heart to break. For those reasons, she couldn’t turn around and look at him or he might see evidence of her pain in her eyes. Instead, she remained with her back to Epworth. “It matters little what my feelings may be.”

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “It matters to me.”

“I don’t see why. ” At least her voice didn’t betray her, even though her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

“Because I’ve cared for you for a very long time.”

“We are friends, Lord Epworth,” she reminded him. “Friends care for one another.”

“Is that all you’ve ever wanted?”

Something in his voice, something she couldn’t identify, caused Miranda to turn. “Why do you ask?”

He pulled his hand away and pushed his fingers through his hair, as if frustrated and Miranda’s stomach sank. “There is no need to answer, Lord Epworth. I don’t believe it’s a discussion that needs to be had.”

“There, you are wrong.”

As if her humiliation wasn’t already enough, he was now going to set her aside, not that she’d ever been anything to him to begin with.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to care for me? To think of me more than a friend.”

At his words, Miranda blinked, and feared she was only hearing what she wished and not what was being said.

“I’ve attempted to court you these last three years, but you never gave me any indication that I’d be anything more than a companion that you enjoyed spending time with, and argue with on occasion.”

But she had wanted more. So much more. It was Epworth who kept her at a distance.

“Had you flirted, even once, I would have known where I stood. But you never gave me a hint you wanted more. Not a flutter of an eyelash, a secret smile, or any behavior that could ever qualify as flirting.”

Miranda frowned. “You wished that I had flirted with you?”

“Good God, yes! At least then I would have known if you were even interested in a courtship. I only began to hope that I had a chance when you allowed me to kiss you at Castle Keyvnor.”

Miranda’s mind raced to catch up to what she was hearing, and struggle to accept and put aside what she’d already assumed.

“I don’t flirt,” she finally said, which was not at all what she intended, but it was a truthful statement.

“I know,” he said in frustration. “My only comfort in you not doing so with me was that I never witnessed you flirt with anyone else. Had you, I would have known that I was not someone with whom you would be interested in entering into a courtship.”

Wesley had not intended to tell Miranda what was in his mind and he still wasn’t certain how much he’d tell her of what was in his heart, but three years of wondering was long enough for any gentleman. More than enough. Over half the gentlemen he knew, who finally married, had done so in less than the span of a season.

“May I ask why you don’t flirt? Or is it simply that you’ve not found anyone you wish to flirt with?”

It was all he could do not to hold his breath in waiting for her answer.

Miranda glanced away, looking to the sea, almost a sadness in her eyes. “Do you know my mother?”

Wesley wasn’t certain what the dowager viscountess had to do with anything. “I know of her, but we are not even acquaintances.”

“But you are aware of her reputation.”

There wasn’t a soul in London who was not. Lady Lynwood enjoyed her lovers and made no secret of that fact. Young, old, married, bachelors. Some lasted a few months, and at other times three different men had visited her bed in less than a week. It wasn’t spoken of openly, of course, but her reputation was well-known in the clubs.

Not that he’d say so to Miranda. She didn’t need to know the full truth of her mother’s reputation, but it was likely she had heard some of

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