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Authors: Natasha Blackthorne

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BOOK: Miranda's Dilemma
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Drake lifted his brows briefly, then “I don’t know Winterton well.” He pierced the cloth doll with the needle and then made a series of tiny, neat stitches. “But he sounds most troublesome.”

“Yes, most troublesome.”

“Well, what would you suggest be done about this problem?”

Adrian been most disconcerted to find the man sitting in his withdrawing chamber sewing a rag doll.

But now the cold, calculating intelligence in the eyes that were studying him, weighting him, made Adrian wonder if he had just inadvertently walked into the lair of the devil himself.

Adrian wasn’t sure that he was quite ready for the extreme measures that Drake was suggesting. For God’s sake, he was a civilized man.

Wasn’t he?

He was stunned to find that he couldn’t completely dismiss the possibility of seeing Winterton simply vanish.

No, no, that wasn’t what he’d come here to discuss at all. He took a deep breath to clear his burning emotions, and then he tried to explain better, “There must be something in Winterton’s past that could bring about his ruin. A man so heartless as to hate his own natural daughter must be evil.”

Drake turned the doll over and began to make another set of equally precise stitches. “Yes, it is unnatural for a man to hate his own child. Not unheard of but most unnatural.”

“He must have done evil deeds. There must be something that could bring about his ruin. Something that he would not want society to know. Something that could be used to force him to relent in his demands toward his daughter.”

“Most of us are not like Winterton. We will do anything to protect those we love,” Baron Drake said, reaching down to hand the doll to Becca.

The girl took the doll and immediately put the head to her mouth and began gnawing at the bright yellow yarn hair.

“Maybe this time her arm will stay connected,” Drake said, giving the child’s profusion of raven black curls a tussle. He set aside the sewing implements and turned back to Adrian. “The only cases I take now are those involving an innocent who is being abused or threatened, or otherwise in danger. I no longer care to be involved in matters concerning competing men of business and politics.”

“Then you can help me?”

“It is far easier a matter to cause a duke to disappear than it is to ruin him.” Drake frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want some cakes and tea?”

Adrian’s tense stomach roiled at the mention of food in this moment. "No.”

Christ, they were speaking so casually of making Winterton ‘disappear’.

Drake made it sound so easy.

And Adrian was tempted…

“I regret that Lady Drake cannot join us,” Drake’s voice cut into Adrian’s thoughts. “She has been somewhat indisposed of late.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, it is worse this time, lasting each day into the afternoon.” Drake leaned back against the settee. “You’ve children of your own, I am sure you understand.”

Adrian nodded. “Ah, well, I see congratulations are in order,” he said, but inside his thoughts whirled and seethed.

“You’re here about Miranda.” The Duke of Winterton’s face took on a hardened expression. “I am sorry, Danvers, I can’t quite ascertain if you are her protector or not. The gossip is too irregular and vague.”

“I will protect her interests. So be warned.”

Winterton nodded. “Miranda knows my price. She knows what she must do to protect her dear Mama. Believe me, she will do it, too. She is like a lioness in her protectiveness of that woman.” His voice had taken on a sneering tone.

That tone rankled Adrian. “I don’t believe that is the extent of your ‘price’. You appear to me as a wolf, scenting blood and narrowing in for the kill.”

Winterton’s mouth twisted into something between a smile and a snarl.  “You don’t know about that girl and me. You don’t know the duplicity and savagery that she is capable of enacting.” He re positioned his silver-headed walking stick and then limped toward his chair near the fire. He motioned to the settee. “Please have a seat, Danvers. If you will pardon me, I move slowly.” He glanced down at his leg. “An unfortunate…
accident
several years ago has rendered my leg stiff and almost useless.”

Adrian wondered if the man had been shot by a cuckolded husband. But he really did not care. “What can you possibly hold so strongly against your own flesh and blood?”

He had no understanding. He would die for his sons. He couldn’t imagine a sin they could commit so foul that would ever cause him to feel any differently.

“I am not so blinded by hate that I cannot see her beauty. She has form on her the likes of which I have seen but once or twice before.” Winterton chuckled softly. “I see why you would be moved to be her champion, even though it would appear she is ready to throw you over for the Duke of Froster. But you see only her beauty. I warn you, that girl is a she-devil, and she will only become worse as she ages.”

At the mention of Froster, a look had crossed Winterton’s face that reminded Adrian so much of a slithering reptile.

“What do you know about Miranda and Froster?”

Winterton chuckled again, his tone cold as air in a crypt. “I know he wants something very specific from her. Something she cannot bear to give.”

A sense of pure pleasure glowed in Winterton’s eyes.

“You vile sack of pus,” Adrian said.  “You disgust me, as you would disgust any decent gentleman worthy of the title. Any decent man. If only society knew your true nature.”

“Ah, there’s the rub. You cannot expose me without exposing Miranda’s crime.”

“You were forcing her mother. What did you expect to happen? You know Cassandra Jones, you should have expected that she would help her niece to learn how to fight you.”

“No one will care if I was forcing my former mistress. She’s nothing more than a nobleman’s plaything. None of them is.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true. Most would not care. But they will care when the truth about Miss Paula Peyton comes to light.”

Winterton froze then eyes widened. “What do you know of Miss Peyton?”

“Miss Peyton, a beautiful girl from a family poorer than church mice. A respectable girl, the child of a minister known for his tireless devotion and endless personal sacrifice. She came to work for you as a highly recommended governess for your legitimate daughters. And you forced her to submit to your lusts. When she found herself pregnant, she came to you, hoping that you would promise her support for her child. You said you would never accept the child as yours or provide for it. And in a fit of hopelessness and shame, she hanged herself.”

“Miss Peyton died in an accident. She had an unfortunate propensity for claret. She often became intoxicated. It was only out of charity for her family that we tried to work with her and keep her employed with us. My wife is a very sympathetic lady. She does many good works.

“It is true that your wife is a remarkable lady who does many charitable works. But it is also true that Miss Peyton hanged herself in a fit of despair over your vile seduction and heartless abandonment of her.”

“No, she fell down the stairs, late one night when she was ill with too much drink.”

“That’s not what I have heard. I am told that she was found hanging by a rope in her chamber at your estate. And that, once found, you saw to it that her body was thrown down the well.”

“You’ll never prove that.”

“The beautiful Miss Peyton was unmarried at age thirty for a reason. She preferred the affections of those of her own sex. She was in love with one of your below stairs maids. I have her final letter to this girl in my possession.”

“What a fantastical tale.” Winterton scowled. “How would you come to possess such a letter?”

“I cannot divulge my sources. But I will say that you should have been kinder to your servants. You should have made fewer enemies. There are other more unsavory rumors circulating about you. A bit of deep digging into any one of them might produce equally damning evidence. Does the name Miss Annabelle Riles mean anything to you?”

Winterton’s face turned so pale that it appeared to be grayish. He leaned back in his seat. “Well, you certainly have proven yourself Miranda’s advocate.” Winterton shook his head. “Young men fall in love with women when they are still the next thing to a girl. Then it is all roses, paradise. She worships you, and she would do anything to please you.

“But then one day, she comes to you, all smiles and excited. She’s so excited that she causes you to be excited, and you wonder what pleasurable surprise can she possibly be planning?

“She says she is with child. You’re shocked, you weren’t expecting
that
kind of surprise. But she’s so over the moon about it, she seduces you into being just as joyful over the matter. You even tolerate her widening girth as the child grows; after all there are always other women about to find distraction with.

“But then the child comes and you realize that you’ve suddenly been supplanted. This little creature, this puling girl-child, this red-faced scrap of nothing demands all of her affection, all of her attention. When you come to your former dear lover, she’s frowning and tired and unhappy with everything you say and do. But when the child comes into view, she’s all smiles and radiant joy.

“The woman prattled on day and night. Oh, her beautiful baby girl, look at her pretty red hair, look at her perfect tiny nose! Oh, and how clever of the child to possess five and only five perfect little fingers and toes!” He scoffed. “How could anyone possibly compete with such a miraculous, wondrous child!

“And now you ask me how I could possibly hate Miranda? How could I not hate her? She stole the affections and attentions of the only woman I could ever love. Things were never the same between myself and her mother. It just was never the same love again. Oh, she tried very hard to hide the fact, but I knew, always, that I had been put into second place.”

A very ugly sneer twisted Winterton’s face. “I never like being second at anything.”

Nausea twisted at Adrian’s gut. “My God. You’re so vile. I don’t even think that you are mad. You are just…vile.”

Winterton had made Miranda’s life a living hell.

He must be called to account.

Adrian was no murderer, however. He would not choose Baron Drake’s way. He would face Winterton in the open, as gentlemen of their class had always settled their difficulties. “You must answer for the attack on Miranda that those boys committed at my estate.”

“What attack?”

“Don’t insult me, just accept. They were just boys, but you are a man, though I do not think you have acted as one. You will answer for your offense toward her as a man.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.” Winterton’s complexion suffered another waxing toward gray. “I cannot possibly fight a duel.”

“Why not?”

“Because I find I have developed an aversion to pistols since your Miranda took it in her head to shoot me.”

“Then we shall use swords.”

Winterton gestured to his leg. “Think, man, use your head. I am a cripple. How am I to dance about waving and playing at swords?”

“I want you dead.”

“Yes, I can see that, quite plainly in your eyes. But as you can see, there really is no way for you to kill me honorably.”

“No, it appears you have managed to aptly thwart me on that. However, these moments alone with you, engaged in such frank talk, have convinced me that I do not want you anywhere near Miranda. You are vile as a cesspit. I don’t understand how you played a part in creating anything as lovely and worthy as Miranda.”

Winterton’s complexion worsened, turning towards the greener side of gray. “What is it that you intend then? Do you intend to have me stalked like an animal? To you intend to send some hired man to shoot me?” His voice became higher pitched. “Oh please, I beg no, I would rather be run through or hanged than shot.”

“I intend to dig further into this matter of Miss Riles, and I will find the truth and see you shamed and shunned and exposed for the piece of excrement that you are.”

“No, that will not do, not at all. That would only bring my family name into ruin. My legitimate daughters would never wed. My nephew would live in the shadow of my shame all his days.” Winterton’s mouth fell open and he gaped at Adrian. “I do believe my wife might kill herself if she were shamed by association with me like that.

“Those sins are on your head. You had better think quickly of a way that you could mitigate the impact.”

Winterton frowned and looked into the hearth, concentrating on the flames as though he might find an answer there. Then he whirled back to face Adrian. “Oh, oh, I know, I could go away and promise never to return.”

“You mean you could disappear?”

“Yes, yes, I could.”

“Where would you go?”

“The United States is a huge place. A man, no matter his rank, could quickly become lost in its vastness.”

“But you haven’t paid for your sins.”

“Neither has Miranda.”

“Miranda hasn’t committed your sins.”

“Ah, but how many will condemn her in the court of public opinion once they learn that she shot and nearly fatally wounded her own father, a duke?” Winterton regained some of his color, and a small smile twisted his mouth. “I tell you, there is no way that you will expose me without me exposing her.”

BOOK: Miranda's Dilemma
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