“Of course not,” she replied, turning down the coverlet and patting the space beside her. “Come and lie down.”
He hesitated only a moment before dropping his soiled cravat next to his discarded clothes and then climbing back into bed. Miranda settled beneath the bedclothes with him, turning onto her side and bracing a hand on his chest.
Glancing at her with eyes that betrayed nothing, he rested his hand atop hers. Miranda moved even closer, drawn by the heat of his body and the comfort of a solid body. Resting her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and began surrendering to sleep.
“Thank you,” she murmured through a haze of drowsiness.
“No,” he whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. “Thank you.”
Miranda drifted off, and didn’t stir again until she felt the soft brush of lips against her cheek. Peeking open one bleary eye, she found Roger fully dressed and standing at the bedside. The gray haze of dawn had begun lightening the room, casting shadows over his face.
“Happy Christmas, Miranda,” he murmured before disappearing from sight.
Chapter 8
Roger had been awake since dawn, unable to go back to sleep once he’d left Miranda’s room to sneak back to his. The intrigue of the entire affair made his heart pound in his chest as he crept through the darkened corridors while praying he wasn’t discovered. Footsteps and scuffles here and there warned him that servants were up and about, but aside from a maid polishing the banister on the stairs—too intent on her work to look up and notice him—no one seemed to have made it to his level of the house yet. For the hours leading up to breakfast and, he lay in bed and replayed every moment of his night with Miranda.
He had been honest when telling her that his own imagination had fallen far short of the actual experience. As he lay abed thinking of her, arousal began to overtake him again, the memories so vivid they’d worked him into a state. He nearly regretted not waking Miranda to have her again before departing her room. But then, he didn’t want her to think him an insatiable animal. It had taken an incredible force of will, but Roger had managed to force himself from bed when the valet he shared with Angus arrived to dress him for the day. Waking in the morning with a persistent erection was par for the course, making coming awake next to a warm, naked woman a novel experience. It was one he’d like to repeat as soon as possible.
All through the morning, he found himself hard-pressed to turn his mind away from the hours spent with the woman who had accepted him into her body and her bed. Arriving in the dining room for breakfast, he found Miranda already there—dressed in a becoming, long-sleeved walking dress of dark brown velvet. Seated down the table from her, he couldn’t resist craning his neck to catch the occasional glimpse of her. There was a glow about her skin this morning, and her eyes were bright with mischief and secrets as she returned his gaze, offering him sly smiles and blushing like a shy debutante.
Thankfully, the festive atmosphere of Christmas morning and the lavish breakfast kept most of the other guests’ attention off them.
While satiating his appetite, he chided himself not to act the besotted fool. Their arrangement was one born of his need for money and her want of a companion to warm her bed. It would be ludicrous for him to think there had been real affection on her part. By the time breakfast had ended, Roger convinced himself that what he felt had everything to do with Miranda being the first woman he’d ever lain with. And perhaps he was also grateful to her for being understanding and accepting of his flaw, and wanting him anyway. It was a good thing, but no reason to go about acting like an infatuated schoolboy.
After breakfast he did his best to engage his mind with some frivolous activity. The morning had revealed a fresh fall of powdery snow, so at least half the party had gone outside to enjoy it with horse-drawn sleigh rides and walks along the picturesque house grounds. Angus and Emily had joined that group, while Roger remained indoors to indulge in card games with the men who had opted to remain indoors.
However, the room they occupied had a bay of windows overlooking the side of the house where the governesses and nurses had taken their charges to play in the snow. He had a perfect view of their games from where he sat, and so took note when a group of women joined them. Sitting up straighter in his chair, the back of his neck prickled when he caught sight of a familiar figure. It was uncanny that he could pick her out of the rest of the lot, but the coat she wore matched the color of her gown from breakfast. As well, there was something familiar about the way she moved, the grace in her stride. It was Miranda.
Once he recognized her it became impossible to concentrate on the game. After losing a third hand of piquet, he excused himself so another gentleman could take his place. Sending a servant to retrieve his coat, gloves, and hat from his valet, he paced the entrance hall while trying to talk himself out of going to her. It would be gauche to accost her while she was with her friends, not to mention her daughter.
By the time the servant returned with his things, Roger had talked himself out of, then back into, his plan three times. Perhaps if he seemed to stumble on them as if he’d merely been out for a walk … no, that wouldn’t do. Or would it?
Frustrated with himself for this unusual indecisiveness, he shrugged into his coat and made for the front door. A breath of fresh air was just what he needed, whether he decided to approach Miranda or not.
The house grounds were crawling with guests here and there, the soft mumble of voices calling out to him as he walked.
It wasn’t like Roger to seek out the company of anyone in such a setting, but Miranda wasn’t just ‘anyone.’ He felt more comfortable talking to her than he ever had someone he’d just met. That was why he was seeking her out … not because he’d convinced himself that something special had happened between them last night. They’d shared a few pleasurable hours together, nothing more. He would not create the illusion of something where there was nothing.
Besides, that he could talk to Miranda was proof that he could learn to be more sociable. She would make for excellent practice for when he began the search for a wife.
As he followed the path around the side of the house to where the children hurled snowballs under the watchful eyes of the women, his confidence was bolstered. He spotted Miranda standing on the outskirts of the area littered with the footprints of children and piles of disturbed snow. The high-pitched squeals and laughter of the little ones made him smile, and that familiar pit of longing open deep within him. The closer he came to losing Emily to a husband, the more he craved a family of his own. He’d practically raised his sister, so he found the idea of being a father vastly appealing. That was why he had to see this through. He needed to become comfortable wooing and charming a woman, so that when Miranda was done with him he might think of his own future. With Emily settled, it would then become his turn to seek a companion and the possibility of a life in which he didn’t languish with loneliness.
“Roger!”
He flinched when his brother’s bellow tore him away from his musings. Roger drew up short to find Angus coming toward him, cheeks reddened from the cold.
“Angus,” he greeted, accepting his brother’s hard slap on the shoulder.
“I had begun to wonder if you were going to spend the entire day indoors,” he said with a wide grin. “But how could you with such delectable prey walking about out here?”