Page 42 of A Scot on Duchess Square
“I know, it was for the victory over those horrid Lawsons.”
She nodded. “My parents wanted me to join them in Italy once they learned I was widowed. But I knew I could not lie to them if ever I had to face them. So, I politely declined to go. They were coming home the following summer, so I thought all would be fine by then.”
“But it wasn’t, was it?”
She released a ragged breath. “No. They were caught up in a cholera epidemic on the journey home and both succumbed. That was another mistake I’d made, being too much of a coward to join them in Italy. And now they were gone. It truly broke my heart. Obviously, I was not a good wife or a good daughter.”
“Och, ye couldn’t have known what would happen to yer parents. And ye might have died had ye gone to Italy and then returned to London with them. Did ye ever think of that? Ye survived and were here to protect Gwenys.”
She pursed her lips and cast him a forlorn look. “I ought to have trusted my parents to love and support me no matter what they thought of my failed marriage. They would have, too. But I was too ashamed and stupidly believed all that the gossips were saying about me. I was also stubborn and much too proud. I refused to go running back to them, crying like a child.”
“What ye have is a propensity to blame yerself for things that are no’ in yer control. And now ye’re afraid to put a toe out of line for fear ye’ll bring misery on yerself or others.” He leaned in closer, wishing he could take her in his arms. But the breakfast room was filling up and he saw Gwenys now approaching with her typically dazzling smile. “Look, Miranda. Ye’ve done something very right, for that is the happiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
That brought a sweet smile to Miranda’s lips, and their conversation turned merry after that.
Bram excused himself upon finishing his breakfast to call upon his bankers. “My business won’t take me longer than the morning. I’d suggest touring York’s Minster afterward, but I think ye ought to spend the day at leisure, Miranda.”
To his surprise, she did not protest. Perhaps seeing the Lawsons had taken plenty out of her and revived awful memories. Still, he did not wish to see her sad.
“There’s an excellent shopping street just around the corner from the inn. I’ll take ye ladies out this afternoon if the weather clears.”
Gwenys was delighted. Miranda actually smiled at him again.
Was this progress?
The rain had slowed to a mere drizzle as he walked to the Royal Yorkshire Bank office where he had set up several accounts to deal with his local financial dealings. Although he had made no appointment, the bank manager dropped whatever he was doing and rushed forward to greet him. “Your Grace, how can we be of help?” the man asked, obviously concerned to see Bram, since he was not expected today. “You must forgive me… Did we have an appointment? My clerk must have—”
“No, my decision to stop in was quite on the spur of the moment and no mistake on anyone’s part,” Bram assured him, for the only reason he’d dropped by here was because of the excuse he had made up for Miranda’s sake. But now that he was here, why not look over his accounts?
They were all in order, as he expected. “Thank ye, Mr. Grove. I hope I have no’ taken up too much of yer time.”
“It is always an honor and a pleasure, Your Grace.”
The man did not stop bowing and scraping until Bram was out the door.
But this was how most people treated him, with obsequious courtesy. In truth, it often rankled him. He had never regarded the term “privilege of peerage” to mean he was the Good Lord’s gift to the world. In fact, he’d always taken it to mean he had been assigned the privilege of serving his fellow Scotsmen in the best way he knew how. It was a responsibility and a duty, not a free pass to doing and getting whatever he wanted.
Perhaps this was why he liked Miranda as much as he did, for she did not judge others by rank alone but on the strength oftheir character. For this reason, he knew she was never going to be false with him.
This only made him want to marry her all the more. Was it not a blessing to have a wife who was true in all her thoughts and deeds? If she was angry, he would know it. If she was worried about something, he would hear her comment about it. If she loved him… Ah, that would be sweetest of all.
The streets of York were bustling, and although the sky was still overcast and the air damp, it appeared the rain had ended. The puddles he had skirted while walking to the bank had now mostly seeped into the cobblestones and made for an easier stroll back to the inn.
The spires of York Minster, the massive cathedral dedicated to St. Peter, could be seen as he approached the inn. He glanced up to admire the soaring spires and noticed patches of blue peeking out from the thinning gray clouds.
This pleased him, because he hoped to spend a quiet afternoon with Miranda, perhaps taking her out to see a little of the city if she felt up to it. An easy amble along the lively streets with stops at a tea shop in between if she tired.
Or was he being ridiculously protective of her? Miranda was hardly frail.
He noticed her and Gwenys on their way out of the inn just as he happened to arrive.
He tried to mask his disappointment. Why had they not waited for him to escort them to wherever they intended to go? Nor was he pleased that Miranda intended to run around the city when she ought to have taken the day to rest.
Never mind that he had just been contemplating a similar outing for her. It was just that he’d wanted them to do this together.
Miranda noticed him approaching and must have seen the slight fade of his smile, for she hurried toward him and placedher arm in his. “You are right on time,” she said, leading him away from the inn. “We only meant to stop in at the bookshop around the corner. The innkeeper said it was quite excellent, and I was eager for reading material.”
“I see.”
