Magic and Mayhem Collection Volume 1, page 37
Chapter 9
If Uncle Jonathan got upset about her reading his private journal then he only had himself to blame. He could just tell her where the documents were, but he hadn’t even bothered to follow her up here, which was quite irritating since he knew how important this was.
Though not much could be done now the agreement was broken, and apparently the previous one, it was important to know what they contained.
Oh, if only this would have occurred during that magical week in June, or anytime in the three years that they’d been friends, Miranda would not be worried about the journal or any treaty, instead, she’d be hoping that Epworth would go about kissing her. Nobody had ever kissed her as Epworth had that day, and the memory still warmed her to her bones. Sadly, she’d never be kissed by him again, and worse, he might have ruined her chance of enjoying kisses from other gentlemen in the future. The ones from her earlier seasons certainly paled in comparison, not that she’d been kissed all that often, just a few stolen in gardens at balls, and it was depressing that she might be reduced to inadequate lips for the rest of her life.
With a sigh, she settled into the chair and opened the journal on the desk. Epworth came around to stand at her elbow. Heat radiating from his body warmed her, but not in an uncomfortable manner, and she detected a light scent of Sandalwood, which had been his cologne of choice in June. The fact that he was behind her, close, made Miranda nervous and she chastised herself for such silliness.
But, as much as she tried to block his presence, Miranda found it difficult, especially when he leaned forward and braced his hand on the desk. It was all she could do not to lean into him, to be even closer, but she’d not do so. He’d made it clear last night that he wanted nothing further to do with her when he’d stomped away and all because she’d told him the truth about Barnaby. She knew he didn’t believe in ghosts, but why would she lie about her reasons for not being at the ball. She’d never tell Epworth a falsehood and hadn’t in the three years they’d been friends. And with that, she grew angry, because he didn’t trust her. Yes, she’d hold onto her anger because it wasn’t nearly as painful and leaned in close to the journal until the words were no longer a blur. Blast, she should have brought her spectacles, but she hadn’t even considered that she’d need them to read.
As Epworth was reading over her shoulder, at least she didn’t have to read it to him and with a deep breath, Miranda blew it out and turned the page.
The moment I saw her, I wanted her. Raven hair flying in the wind, tricorn upon her head, breeches, Hessians, sword in hand, and brown vest barely containing her assets. It’d been a long time since a woman made my mouth go dry, and she became my focus.
My men boarded the ship and as we outnumbered her crew, it was quickly overtaken. While my men were interested in the cargo, I wanted her.
Even thinking back, I didn’t recognize myself, but in a matter of moments, I knew she’d be mine. The fact that I’d just become an enemy would make that all the more difficult. It wasn’t until we were gathered on deck and I learned her name that I’d realized that I’d made a grave miscalculation.
We had boarded a Laswell ship and I had just broken the treaty. Even worse, the woman that so captivated me was the daughter of the richest merchant of Laswell, Walter Osborn. He was the true leader of the smugglers in the area. His daughter, Hester, had made a name for herself, as she sailed often, and rumors abounded with how she’d bested men with the prowess with her sword and wit. This was the first time I’d met her, and I was utterly captivated. Yet, a bit of panic and foreboding settled into my gut.
I know I should have removed myself and my crew from their ship, leaving their cargo behind, and offer an apology to anyone who could hear. I knew the rules and breaking them could bring calamity. Except, I wasn’t thinking as I should and was too focused on Hester. As I’d already broken the treaty, one that I had hoped that others had forgotten, I decided to keep Hester for a time and ransom her.
“Now we at least know his reasons,” Epworth murmured as Miranda turned the page.
She could understand her great-uncle and his infatuation as Miranda had experienced the same when she’d first spied Epworth. But she wouldn’t have acted nearly as carelessly. In fact, she hadn’t behaved as anything other than a proper miss, especially in London. If Miranda had strived for one thing, it was always propriety, no matter what the circumstance. Her very reputation depended on it since she already had to battle the one her mother had made for herself. At least she had until Epworth kissed her at Castle Keyvnor. Those kisses were anything but proper.
Miranda shook the thoughts away. She didn’t want to think of her mother right now, nor should she be thinking about Epworth’s kisses.
Hester’s outrage was adorable, though she’d probably skewer me with her sword if she knew that was my assessment. She tried to fight me, and despite what I’d heard of her fighting skills, I was able to disarm her, then I tossed her over my shoulder, gave her breeches-clothed bottom a good smack, and took her to my ship.
Miranda gasped. Her great-uncle was nothing more than a pirate or rogue or…oh, she couldn’t come up with a name for what he’d done.
To say that Michael was unhappy would be a gross understatement.
“Who is Michael?” Epworth asked.
“His older brother, my grandfather,” Miranda answered absently.
Yes, it was ill-advised, which I completely acknowledge, but there is little to be done for it now. And, despite what Michael claims, I’m certain this one act couldn’t have undone treaties that have been in place since 1573.
“Fifteen seventy-three,” Miranda and Epworth said at the same time, their shocked tones mimicking the other.
Though, if I have, I will do what is necessary to make certain that a new treaty is in place once again.
I really wasn’t considering all the ramifications of my actions and to be honest, it is nearly impossible to think clearly when with Hester. She makes me want to toss caution to the wind, and it’s quite possible that she might drive me to insanity before this is over. However, so long as she is mine in the end, nothing else matters.
Miranda straightened and closed the journal, her index finger still marking the place where they’d stopped. She then pushed the chair back and stood. “I need to move to better light.”
Wesley had been about to suggest the same since the ink was fading on the following pages.
Miranda made her way around the desk and then settled onto the settee, which was situated closer to the windows, and then opened the journal once again before she brought it closer to her face, making it impossible for Wesley to read over her shoulder.
Though, it was probably best that he kept his distance because a part of him was spending more time thinking about kissing Miranda than the words written within the journal. The way she’d been seated, elbow on the desk with her head tilted and resting on her hand, and the dark curls falling away and revealing the silken length of her neck was a temptation almost impossible to fight. He wanted to place his lips against the pulse and inhale Miranda’s intoxicating scent of apple with a hint of orange blossom. This combination was Miranda’s, and he’d been associating the scent with her since their first dance so many years ago.
Miranda placed the journal on the cushioned seat beside her, face down and fanned open to the pages she’d been reading before she pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Is all well?”
“I usually wear spectacles when I read,” she admitted. “I didn’t think to bring them with me.”
Ah, so that was the reason she was bent so close to the pages as she read at the desk.
“Where might they be?”
She sighed and lifted her chin, looking up at him. “I think they are with my embroidery, which is in the parlor. Or they could be in the library where I was reading, or they could be in the tunnels because I was reviewing schedules.”
She stood then planted her hands on her hips. “They could be anywhere, and I can’t remember the last time I wore them, and I don’t have the time to search Hollybrook Park.” She glanced around. “Or perhaps they are in my sleeping chamber.”
Wesley watched as she crossed and entered the other room.
He shouldn’t follow. He knew he shouldn’t be anywhere near a bed, especially while alone with Miranda, but his legs were not paying attention to his command and he strode forward. He paused just at the entrance. So long as he didn’t pass the threshold, he’d hold temptation at bay.
Why did he still want her? No matter how much his mind argued, his heart wanted to pull her close. “This is your chamber?”
“Temporarily, though I wouldn’t mind remaining here always,” Miranda answered as she went about the room searching the drawers in the dressing table and nightstand. “I stayed up here at Christmas last, when the manor was overrun with guests who were too frightened to stay at Castle Keyvnor.”
“Not this past June?” Wesley found himself asking.
“Adam wouldn’t allow guests, not with Charlotte so near her time to deliver their child.” Miranda stopped in the center of the room hands fisted on hips. “Well, they are not here.”
She marched toward Wesley, and he stood back so that Miranda could pass.
“I’m surprised your brother is allowing you to be in the attic, or did he send you here?” Surely her brother didn’t deem it necessary for Miranda to be sequestered, away from family and guests. An attic wasn’t a suitable place for anyone to reside, though this one was pleasant enough.
“Adam would prefer that I wasn’t here at all.” She laughed. “Honestly, I prefer it up here.” Miranda crossed to the room and opened a door and stepped out onto a balcony of sorts. “The view, fresh air, waves crashing against the cliffs.” She took in a deep breath then relaxed her shoulders as she blew out.
Wesley joined her at the railing and looked out. It was a magnificent view and he could understand why anyone would wish to spend time up here.
“Well, as much as I’d like to remain outside, I must return to search for the documents.” With that, she frowned. “Or search for my spectacles.”
“I can read,” Wesley reminded her.
“Of course,” she laughed and waved away a concern. “I’m curious to learn what else Uncle Jonathan wrote. To be honest, I’m as much interested in his courtship of your grandmother as I am in finding the treaties.”
Wesley was as well since it gave him a glimpse into his grandmother’s past, though it wasn’t the more pressing need.
“Shall we?” He gestured toward the inside and followed Miranda. She settled onto one end of the settee and he at the other before he picked up the journal and continued to read aloud.
The pages were filled with arguments with his brother and the growing love for Grandmother.
“My brother reminded me once again that my selfish actions may have ruined a peace that has been in place for two centuries. He is correct, but if Hester is in agreement, which I believe she is, it can be renewed once again.”
“Oh, why doesn’t he say more about the treaty,” Miranda complained.
Wesley wished he would as well since so far, Captain Vail had only mentioned that the agreement existed.
“Hester came to my quarters this evening.”
Wesley looked up. “Quarters? Was Captain Vail on his ship? I’d thought he was remaining here.”
Miranda shook her head. “My great-uncle refers to these rooms as his quarters, even though they are in a manor.”
Refers instead of referred? Though he wished to ask why she spoke in the present, Wesley did not and returned his attention back to the journal.
“I’ve kept her from visiting me here, just as I’ve avoided her set of rooms, and continued my courtship in the common rooms and in the gardens of Hollybrook Park. I knew that the temptation would be too great if we were alone in such an intimate setting.”
Wesley’s face began to heat. He understood the captain’s dilemma when the desire for a woman was so strong. Though, it was discomforting to be reminded that the woman was his grandmother and that he wasn’t reading a fictional novel.
“I was correct in my concerns. I was unable to deny my desire, nor Hester. Her beauty, in the moonlight, the soft cascade of her hair, and when she stood before the windows, the light reflected from beyond made her nightshift appear nearly sheer, and any will to behave as an honorable gentleman disappeared. Hester had come to seduce me, and she succeeded.”
Wesley closed his eyes and massaged his temples. These were not facts he wished to know about his grandmother. Further, nothing had ever shocked him so thoroughly either.
“Goodness, Her Grace was bold.”
Wesley glanced up to note the blush staining Miranda’s cheeks. He probably shouldn’t have read that section aloud, especially since it had nothing to do with the reason they were reading the journal in the first place.
He cleared his throat. “I just pray that none of my sisters take after her, and they never learn of Grandmother’s earlier behavior.”
“Go on.” Miranda nodded to the journal.
“I did secure her promise to be my wife. Further, she confessed her love and I was set free to voice mine for her. As the words were exchanged, I stopped fighting my desires and swept Hester up in my arms and carried her to my bed.”
Bloody hell, he should have read ahead, silently, before sharing these details with an innocent miss. And for that very reason, Wesley did read the rest of the entry to make certain that the good captain didn’t reveal details that nobody should know about another couple’s intimate encounter. Thankfully, Captain Vail kept those details to himself.
Wesley continued to read about the courtship, the negotiations, and the plan for the wedding, to take place in Laswell before the residents. The location was to set their minds at ease. The day Hester left Hollybrook Park on her brother’s ship. Captain Vail had stood from the balcony above and watched her ship sail, first while standing near the railing, and then through the telescope until it could be seen no more.
The last entry was of Captain Vail preparing to sail to Laswell, to spend the remaining fortnight before his wedding at Hester’s home. He needed to make his apologies to the residents and come to know her family. And though he was concerned that a storm was coming in, and his brother begged him to wait until it passed, Jonathan was confident that he and his ship would make it through unscathed. Soon, he’d be with Hester again because he could not remain away from her another day. He just hoped that with the new agreement with Laswell in place, there would be no price to be paid for his actions.
Wesley closed the journal and looked up, an unexpected sadness filling him. During his reading, Miranda had turned her body so that she faced him, and her knees were drawn up beneath her skirts and lavender slippered feet peeked out from beneath the folds.
“If only he’d have waited a day or two.”
Wesley agreed. That decision, because Captain Vail couldn’t wait to be with the woman he loved, had led to his death.
“It’s heartbreaking,” Miranda continued. “Had he waited until it was safe, I wonder what kind of future they would have had.”
Wesley wondered as well. While nothing would have changed for Miranda, Wesley might not have ever come into existence, or Captain Vail would have been his grandfather, making Miranda a relative. It’s strange how the decision of one person could change the fate of so many.
Chapter 10
Sadness, near mourning, engulfed Miranda. Though she’d not lost anyone, Uncle Jonathan had, as had Hester. Further, they’d both lost out on what promised to be a great love.
What would it be like to love so strongly? To risk all to be with the person who held your heart? To be loved by someone that they’d literally sail into a storm just to be with you?
Her heart ached, not only for Uncle Jonathan and Her Grace but for herself as well. Would she ever experience such a love?
She slid a glance to Epworth. Oh, she had hoped…With a shake of her head, she dismissed the impossible. “I’m glad to know their story, sad though it is.”
Epworth nodded. “While that was very enlightening, he didn’t answer our question.”
For a moment, Miranda had forgotten the reason they’d come up here. With a sigh, she glanced around. “I’ve been through every drawer in the desk previously. There were no treaties. I would have remembered.”
“Perhaps they no longer exist,” he suggested.
Miranda couldn’t imagine that her uncle would have destroyed such vital documents, one he referenced in his journal.
“What is taking the two of you so long?”
Miranda startled at the voice of Her Grace. She quickly stood and straightened her gown but not before the duchess had witnessed her sitting in such a manner on the settee, with her back turned so that she was facing Epworth, knees drawn up so that her feet could rest on the cushioned seat. She remained modestly covered, but it wasn’t proper to have sat as she had.
“We’d hope to find the answer in here.” Wesley held up the journal. “Instead, I only learned about you.” He grinned at her.
“What is that?”
“Captain Vail’s journal. He was quite in love with you.”
If Miranda wasn’t mistaken, the duchess just blushed.
“Yes, well that isn’t any of your concern.” She marched forward and yanked it from his hands. She then wandered to the desk and ran the tips of her fingers across the scarred surface before strolling to the windows to gaze out before making her way toward the chamber but stopped short of going in and then turned. “I have such fond memories of this attic.”
Her Grace had snuck up here several times to be with Uncle Jonathan because they feared being caught if he went to her set of rooms. Miranda admired the boldness of Her Grace but wasn’t certain she’d have had the nerve to risk ruin.
