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BOOK: Debra Kay Leland
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He stood and touched her chin with a long tanned finger and studied her sincere eyes, and then he smiled and kissed her forehead softly before he sat back down again.  “Ye are most welcome.  A lady deserves her finery, and since ye have graced me with a bright smile, I
feel I have been paid my due.”

She smiled again and looked down.  “They are busy sewing an
other—may I help them?”

He smiled at her.  “Aye, m’lady, ye may.”

She went to the door and turned to grace him with one last smile before she went out again, and met with eyes that always reminded her of William’s.  It had been difficult to leave Glenton Moor and all that was there that tied her to him; and yet, though it had been hard to leave, she knew that being here with his father had helped her to heal.

 

 

The girl was nearing her seventh month now, and the pregnancy suited her well.  She had been at his home for nigh a month and was finally hail and healthy.  But most
importantly, she seemed happy.  She smiled and laughing and graced them all with her kindly disposition and her bright dimpled smiles.  He looked down at the two missives he had gotten in reply to his request that his nephews attend him, both men he had contacted were set to arrive in the next day or two, and he was pleased that his plan to secure the castle for William’s child’s sake was finally under way.  Now, all he could do was pray that one of them would be willing to take the girl for honor if for nothing else, and that perhaps she would even fall in love then.

The two men, one of which was a closer relative than the other, would do fine as a husband for the girl.  Lord Lydan Hastings was a good choice, young, unwed, with a substantial title of his own and he had always favored his own sister’s oldest son who was in and of himself the lord of Radcliff.  And Lord Garrick
Farrington, his wife’s eldest nephew, was equally charming and a titled lord as well, though a widower in his early thirties.  He had no children of his own, and if Miranda chose to marry him she was certainly young enough to give him an heir of his own, though the man was almost twenty years her senior, he was still a good choice for her.

Though neither man knew of his plans, he still hoped that one of them would fall in love with the girl; or if need be, he would just have to make them an offer that they couldn’t refuse…  It would not be difficult to wed a lass as beautiful as his daughter-in-law; despite her upbringing, she was lovely and graceful, soft spoken and sweet, he noticed even his own men gave her longing glances which
did not suit him in the least.  For the girl would have to marry one of the suitors he brought to her, and no other if he wanted to secure his families title on the land.  But that was contingent on the fact that the lass would indeed have a son.  A daughter would complicate matters considerably, but he had already set in order the document needed incase just that happened.  If it did, the title would pass thru William’s daughter to her first born son.  And her husband, who would also be chosen for her, would inherit the title of Earl; it was complicated and risky but it would work to keep these lands within his family, and away from his enemies.  Or so he hoped…

 

His men had heard rumors in the towns as news of William’s death spread, along with the fact that William had a wife come to Whittington with an heir.  There was no way to keep the news from spreading, or even keeping it from his enemies, but with her here she was more than safe.  What surprised him the most were all the women who came to the castle gate swearing they too were having William’s child, some bringing two or three children in tow asking to be compensated with gold; yet none could answer the questions put forth to them in truth.  And a few even dared to say they were pregnant with James’ child, a thought that only managed to make him cringe.  Whether their claims to an heir were true or not, it mattered nothing to him!  For in truth, William had out lived his brother, and only William would be considered his rightful heir!  And he would only recognize Miranda’s child as William’s for it was conceived in wedlock and he had no doubt of the girl’s loyalty to his son.

 

Miranda sat nervously in William’s chamber knowing that Lord Sheridan would have guests at the table that night, for she’d seen them each ride through the gate not more than hour apart as she sat looking out the high castle windows that day.  It was true that she had grown comfortable with her father-in-law, mostly because he reminded her so much of William, but to have strangers at the table made her more than nervous.  All knew who and what she was despite the regal clothing that had been given to her, for each time she opened her mouth to speak her own voice betrayed her…  Here, she was treated well among Edmund’s household—but his guests were a different story all together!

And e
ven after a month, she still hadn’t even gotten used to the coy glances his knights would cast her way as they dined at the table beside her—but to have titled guests, especially men as their guest made her worry.  She had even gone as far as to send her maid to her father-in-law to beg him to allow her eat in her chamber that night, but he himself came to her door shortly after and insisted she dine with him anyway.

She stood and paced again as she had done for nigh an hour, already dressed and ready to go down
, and yet she could not bring herself to do so.  Miranda sighed and sat down stiffly as her maid watched her with worried eyes.  The gown she had chosen for the girl was lovely ivory that flattered her despite her pregnancy, her soft silky hair hung in ringlets, a golden circulate graced her head, but it was her sweet innocent face that endeared her to you.

 

The steward knocked softly and Amelia cast her a glance then bid him to come in; he opened the door and looked to her with lifted brows.  “Lord Sheridan has asked for thee to join him…now.”

Miranda glance at her maid with worried eyes before she slowly stood running a nervous hand over her skirt before it came to rest on the child within her.  Amelia went to the door with a soft smile and waited with the steward; she could tell what the girl was thinking, that she would do somethin
g to embarrass herself or the Earl in front of his guests, even by her very presence at his table, but it wasn’t true…  She knew that he loved the girl as if she were his own daughter and nothing would change that.

The girl sighed and ran her hand over the skirt again, looking as if to find some excuse that would change the Earl’s mind.  Amelia merely smiled.  “My lady, there’s nothing ye can say that shall get thee out of dining with Lord
Sheridan’s guest this night.”

Miranda swallowed the excuse that she was just about to speak and frowned. 
“But—but they are not my guests, nor is there any good reason that I should meet them.”

Amelia just laughed and took her arm gently guiding
the nervous girl through the door anyway.  “Go on now, Lord Sheridan awaits thee.”

The girl drew a long breath and scowled once more before she straightened the soft material of her skirt for the fifth time and headed towards the stairs with the steward at her side and her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

 

 

Garrick was glad to be at Whittington, it was always a pleasant distraction to be in his uncle’s presence instead of at his own holding surrounded by things that only reminded him of all that he had lost.

Lydan on the other hand, hid his agitation well; he hoped that the business which had brought him here would soon be accomplished so that he could be on his way again.  It would have been rude to refuse his uncle in light of all that had transpired here,
and as his nephew he was obligated to attend him at the death of his sons, but the sooner it was done the better.

The two men sat at the table discussing news of their families and estates as they waited for William’s widow to join them, a thing that brought neither of them much pleasure for indeed it was growing late and the food was surely getting cold!  It had been a surprise to both of them to find out from the missive that both James and William were dead, but they had come to be at their uncle’s side and to help him till he was able to take care of things again by himself.  It wasn’t until they were getting ready to sit down to the meal that there uncle had mentioned that they would wait for William’s widow to join them before they started—a woman who n
ow kept them waiting for near an hour and they couldn’t help but wonder at it!  Was she so rude that she would delay the Earl and his guests like this?  Neither of them said a word though they wanted to.

 

She paused at the top of the steps and glanced back with fore longing at her maid who merely motioned her to go on, the steward offered his hand and she sighed as she took it, refusing to look at the table and to those seated there as she went down the long curved stairs.

Lord Sheridan’s eyes were the first to fall on her, she was lovely as always and it pleased him; her hair a glorious halo around her soft face, her blue eyes cast down as she approached them quietly.  He stood, and offered a smile to the quiet girl.  Neither man had even noticed her, nor had they paid much attention to what was spoken of her for the last hour, but he knew that that was all about to change.  Edmund had been careful not to say too much, he would let the girl herself show her true value to his nephews and she didn’t disa
ppoint him even now.

The two men glanced at the stairs as they noticed their uncle’s gaze, he stood and they stood with him hardly able to believe their eyes,
the widow
, their cousin’s wife was a mere girl—and the most beautiful girl they had ever seen.  Edmund stepped from the table and took her hand and stopped her.  He took a long tanned finger tipping her chin so she would look at him now.  She lifted true blue eyes to meet his, a concerned look on her soft face and he smiled down at her. 
“Miranda, smile…”

She blushed slightly and offered a te
ntative smile without dimples.

His mouth quirked to one side with amusement as he watch
ed her.  “No dimples this night?”

She shook her head
softly and glanced at the table and blushed, before she looked back to him again.

“Well, we’ll have to change that, now won’t we?  Mira
nda, I would like to introduce thee to my nephews, this is Lord Lydan Hastings, my sister’s eldest son, and Lord Garrick Farrington, a nephew on my wife’s side.”

She turned towards the men and curtsied low without meeting their gazes.  “…M’lords...”

The men threw each other curious glances that spoke of the pleasant surprise they both had on seeing such a comely girl.  Lydan, who stood closest, took her hand and bowed over it kissing it softly.    “My lady, ‘tis a great pleasure indeed.”

Garrick came around the table and did likewise, his heart beating wildly in his chest though he hid it well;
yet, he scolded himself for feeling more like a young boy instead of the man that he was.

She lifted her blue eyes to neither, but allowed Edmund to seat her next to Lydan at his right, whose trencher she would be fo
rced to share.  She glanced around the table uncomfortably, finding more than one pair of eyes on her that only made her lower her lashes again.  Edmund glanced at his nephews and smiled knowingly at them as if they all had the same thought; both men smiled appreciatively back and raised coy eyebrows and it pleased him.

He signaled for the servants to serve the platter
s when he saw Miranda’s soft blush, for he did not want to distress her further knowing she had not wished to dine with his guest in the first place.

She sighed softly to herself then reached for the meat on the trencher only to
have Lydan’s hand gently brush hers; she blushed even harder and tried to ignore the soft touch, but yet, throughout the meal it happened again and again.  By the time the third course was served she knew it had been no accident.  She glanced up and caught the other’s man’s gaze from across the table, his dark eyes were soft and kind, and yet she blushed and lowered her gaze again uncomfortably.

Garrick couldn’t help but look at the girl, though he willed himself not to, yet somehow his eyes just found themselves upon her instead.  He’d been jealous when his uncle seated the girl beside Lydan, and the feeling surprised him; and to his folly it only grew worse as the meal continued as he sat watching Lydan’s advances towards her.  He knew what Lydan was doing, and it made him uneasy.  Though the girl was a
mere peasant and a widow, she didn’t deserve to be treated as such!  He watched as she sat tensely, hardly eating and it bothered him...

“Miranda, are ye not well this night?”  He shifted his gaze t
o his uncle as he spoke to her.

She looked up with pleading eyes and silently shook her head.  A concerned frown creased Edmund’s forehead and he motioned for one of the servants.  “The lady Miranda is not well; pl
ease see her to her chambers.”

“Aye, m’lord.”  An older woman came aside her and took her thin arm.  “Come
, my lady, all shall be well.”

Garrick’s eyes never left the girl’s thin frame as she stood, and it was then that he noticed that she was with child... 
William’s child
…  And it all made sense why his uncle would have her here, for indeed she carried the only heir to Whittington.  He watched as the servant helped the girl up the stairs but this time with a soft frown.  “How far along is she?”

BOOK: Debra Kay Leland
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