Very nice update. Looking forward to more of this evening's events.
Wow, how sad for him... his surprise at her sadness for him is interesting, I mean it is Kagome. Nice chapter!
A very nice moment for them...le Sigh . Thanks for the sweet update.
LOL, his reactions...
Julya (Chapter 95) - Sun 31 Jul 2016
OMG, got totally addicted to this, just read it all this afternoon. Eagerly waiting for more
Nice chapters, keep it coming.
He always likes a little fight in his lady! Lovely update.
Anonymous (Chapter 1) - Tue 12 Jul 2016
33
mystery of the estate’s finances. Especially as she would not be welcome at E
dgerton
Manor once Leticia was established as Edward’s betrothed. Her final chance to help
Edward was slipping through her fingers.
“Best be off with you,” Mr. Fowler said, his eyes bright.
“We’re going,” Charlie said, taking Miranda by the elbow and guidi
ng her to the door.
She glanced back at the shelves, marking the placement of the ledger she wanted to
examine. During the ball, she would slip away and return to the study. Surely after the
grand announcement, her presence would not be missed.
“You look splendid, darling,” Lady Edgerton said as Edward entered the sitting room.
She rose in a rustle of blue taffeta skirts and lily
-
scented perfume to bestow a kiss on
his cheek. The evening sun slanted through the tall windows, illuminating the stra
nds of
silver in her fair hair. Still, she was looking improved. Her smiles came more easily, and
some of the shadows had lifted from her eyes. The house party had been successful in that,
if nothing else.
He, on the other hand, did not feel splendid
–
not
in the least
–
but he summoned a
smile for his mother. His cravat was tied too tightly, his coat squeezed his shoulders as if it
were a size too small, and his boots pinched his toes.
This evening he would fully step into the role of earl, as he ought.
He
’d had no success untangling the estate’s finances, but at least he could secure a
bride. The month would not be an utter failure, no matter the weight that lodged in his chest
at the thought of shouldering his next, inevitable duty.
He would propose to
Leticia Davenport, ensuring that the long line of Dorset
Edgertons remained unbroken.
“How I have longed for this day,” his mother said, taking his hand and drawing him to
sit beside her on the gold
-
upholstered divan. “Ever since Lady Davenport was deliver
ed of
a daughter when you were six years of age, we had hoped... well, our two families have
always been close, as you know.”
“Yes.” The word stuck in his throat. He shifted, trying to keep the late sun from
stabbing unpleasantly into his eyes. “I am pleased
to make you happy, Mother.”
He was able to do this
–
to help her long
-
imagined dreams come true. And though
there were other prospects back in London, Miss Davenport was the most obvious choice
for his bride.
Lady Edgerton tilted her head, a curious expre
ssion crossing her features. “But are you
not making yourself happy, as well?”
“Happy enough.”
Although his parents had been deeply in love, he had seen any number of marriages
where the husband and wife simply tolerated one another. As long as there was
a modicum
of courtesy, he and Leticia Davenport could manage. Indeed, if his mother had not loved
his father so dearly, his death would not have taken such a toll on her. There were reasons
not to love one’s spouse too much.
“Hey
-
o!” a voice called from th
e hallway.
Never one to stand on ceremony or wait for such things as the butler to announce him,
Charlie Price strode into the room.
34
“Mr. Price
–
welcome,” Lady Edgerton said. “You have arrived early. Is the rest of
your family with you?”
Charlie bowed ov
er her hand. “You are a vision of loveliness this evening, Lady
Edgerton. As for my mother and sister, they’ll be along later in the carriage. Father is
pleading his gout, as usual, and staying home. At any rate, I wanted a quick word with
Edward before th
e festivities began.”
“Of course.” Lady Edgerton rose. “I’ll go attend to the last
-
minute details while you
two have your chat.”
She bustled out of the sitting room, and Edward raised a brow at his friend.
“Well?” he said.
Charlie folded his arms. “Are you
actually going to go through with this?”
“With what, hosting a ball?”
“With asking Leticia Davenport to be your bride. Really, Ed, we’ve both done foolish
enough things, but this...” Charlie shook his head.
Doubt made Edward’s words more forceful than he wa
nted. “I have responsibilities
now
–
serious ones. You may continue on your wastrel ways, Charlie, but that path is no
longer for me.”
Damn, he sounded like some old prune in the House of Lords, not the carefree rogue
he had imagined himself to be for year
s to come. Before his father died.
“I understand that,” Charlie said. “But can you truly imagine leg
-
shackling yourself to
that harpy for your entire life? You’ll be miserable.”
Edward turned and began to pace, hands gripped behind his back. Darkness gathe
red in
the corners of the room as the sun descended. From somewhere deeper in the house, he
heard the shriek of a violin tuning up.
“She’s the best choice I have.” His voice was tight.
“Come now. What about Miss Aubrey?”
“Too young.”
“Miss Smythe?”
“Too or
dinary, and her mother is a gorgon.”
“Miss
–
”
“See here.” Edward rounded on his friend. “None of them are here, none of them are a
match guaranteed to make my mother happy, and none of them would be any better, or any
worse, than marrying Miss Davenport.”
“I’m sure she’d be gratified to hear that.” Charlie shook his head. “Isn’t there anyone
else?”
For a moment, Miranda’s mischievous brown eyes and over
-
wide mouth flashed
through Edward’s mind. But that was a ridiculous notion. Not only was she Charlie’s
younger sister, she had made it clear she held him in the utmost contempt.
At least Miss Davenpo
rt professed to admire him. Whether she liked him or his title
more, it was difficult to tell, but in either case she would do well enough.
“No one,” Edward said.
A shadow crossed Charlie’s face, quickly gone.
“Well then,” he said, in a semblance of his us
ual cheerful voice. “Good luck and all
that. I suppose I’ll see you about London.”
“Certainly.”
35
And although Miss Davenport did not seem particularly fond of the Price family,
Charlie was his oldest friend. He would not cut the man because of the whims of
his soon
-
to
-
be betrothed.
Miranda stood at the edge of the ballroom, pretending to admire the decorations. Blue
oriental vases overflowing with pale roses were arranged along the walls, and the candles
set in the high chandeliers shone a warm golde
n light over the dancing couples, the crystal
facets glimmering in the last of the twilight. On the dais at the far end of the dance floor,
the orchestra Lady Edgerton had hired provided tuneful music for the score of dancers
stepping the pattern of the qu
adrille.
Despite herself, Miranda watched Edward dancing with Leticia Davenport. The light
glinted off the gold streaks in his hair, and he moved purposefully yet gracefully through
the paces of the dance, cutting a striking figure in his dark blue coat an
d polished boots.
Miss Davenport clung to his arm whenever the quadrille required them to touch. Her
cheeks were flushed, and her lavender silk gown rather low cut for the country
–
but
perhaps baring that much bosom was fashionable in Town.
It was hot and noisy, the sound of conversation and laughter sawing against Miranda’s
nerves. She folded one arm tightly across her ribs, her breath pricking her lungs as if the air
was filled with tiny pins.
Edward had not yet made any announcement
–
but
she could not bear to remain
another moment in the ballroom. Charlie could tell her later all about the joyous betrothal.
Miranda whirled and pushed through the door leading into the hallway. It was
blessedly cool and quiet, old portraits gazing stolidly
down at her as she sped along the
dark
-
paneled hall toward the study. There was solace in numbers
–
there always had been.
And perhaps she would at last find an answer, though she had no notion why an old ledger
would contain any solutions.
Taking a taper
from the hall, she pushed open the study door. The wavering candlelight
fell across the wide, now
-
familiar desk. There was a candle holder there, and she quickly
deposited her light before hot wax dripped onto her hand.
She moved to the shelves and studied
the row of books. Had it been that one, or the
one next to it? Unsure, she pulled out three and laid them on the desk.
The first one, dated
1782
, held no secrets. After ten minutes, Miranda laid it aside. The
second, from the previous year, was more of th
e same
–
rows of figures in a precise hand,
paired with descriptions of crops and rents, repairs and improvements.
Sighing, she closed the ledger and rubbed her forehead. There was nothing to be
gained here. She ought to return to the ballroom, smile when
she heard the news of the
betrothal, and leave Edward Havens to sort out his own finances. It was none of her
concern.
The candle flame flickered as a shadow paused in the doorway. Miranda rose to her
feet, her pulse pounding high in her throat.
“Who’s the
re?” she asked, her voice ending in a squeak.
“It’s me,” Edward said, stepping into the room. “But what are you doing here? Why
aren’t you at the ball?”
“I...” She gestured to the ledger books on the desk.
36
He shook his head, then held out his hand. “Though I
know you prefer numbers to
dancing, I insist you return. Come, Miranda.”
“I really don’t
–
”
“Don’t dance? I promise I won’t bite.”
He paced over to her, stopping too close for comfort. She smelled the faint spice of
him, felt the warmth of his body where
it nearly brushed hers. Slowly, he brought his hand
up and drew one finger down her cheek.
Sparks trailed from that touch, and she had to close her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked, from the safety of that darkness.
“Kissing you.”
She caught her
breath, trying not to tremble. She ought to stop him. She ought to open
her eyes and slip out from between him and the desk. Yet somehow she could not.
“Edward
–
”
“Shh.”
He set his finger over her lips, then stroked it back and forth, making her shiver. H
is
touch dropped to her chin and he tilted her face up. His breath feathered against her mouth,
and then his lips were there, warm and firm over hers. Heat flashed over her as his tongue
tipped out to trace the seam of her lips.
She swayed, suddenly dizzy
with yearning, and he pulled her against him. One arm slid
around her back, holding her. Her hands moved up to his broad shoulders and she clung to
that solidity while everything spun about her.
He gently coaxed her mouth open, his tongue swirling in as th
ough he were tasting the
sweetest honey. A moan escaped her, and he held her even more tightly in response.
Sensations rampaged through her, coiling sweet and hot at her center.
She loved Edward Havens. She always had. While he...
Miranda could barely force
herself to bring her hands between them, to push him
away. But she must.
“Stop,” she gasped, pulling her lips from his. “Edward, please.”
He lifted his head, and his arm loosened, although he still held her.
“How could you?” she asked, bitterness uncurling
like a weed in her heart.
He smiled, slow and lazy. “You’re quite kissable.”
“I don’t mean that! How could you kiss me
now
, on the very eve of your betrothal to
another? You truly are an appalling rake.”
She ought to slap him, but she could not manage the
anger for it
–
not with the
aftermath of his kiss still trembling her senses.
“I...” Something flashed in his eyes, shame or regret. He released her and stepped
stiffly away. “You’re correct. My apologies. The fact that I find you attractive is no
excuse.”
Now the first coals of anger began to heat. “Attractive? Don’t feel the need to lie. If
you are regretting the idea of asking for Miss Davenport’s hand, pray do not use me as the
instrument of that regret. I know exactly what you think of me.”
His expressi
on shuttered. “And what is that?”
She knotted her hands in the folds of her skirt as the memory of that dreadful afternoon
five years ago seared her thoughts.
“Certainly you remember,” she said.
37
She would never forget. She had been coming down to the parl
or at Wyckerly, eagerly
anticipating another outing with her brother and his friend, their neighbor Edward Havens.
Edward, whose fair hair and deep blue eyes made her giddy, whose smiles and clever
words she savored in memory, over and over.
“So,” she had
heard Charlie say, “What do you think of my sister?”
Heart pounding, she had paused outside the door, breathless to hear how her hero
would reply. Did he,
could
he, hold her in some esteem? The moment had stretched as she
hovered, waiting. She still recall
ed it with perfect clarity
–
the dust motes hanging in the
air, the smell of lilacs and lemon polish, the uncomfortably tight fit of her boots.
Then Edward had spoken, and all her delight had come crashing down.
She stared at him now, his face half
-
shadowe
d in the flickering candle light.
“Let me refresh your memory,” she said. “You said I was
regrettably bookish and
plain, with very little to recommend me apart from an annoying tendency to interfere where
not wanted.”
The words were burned into her soul. W
ith those few sentences, her girlish yearnings
had been shattered, twisted into a sour reflection of her own shortcomings.
His eyes widened. “That was years ago. You’ve changed.”
“Not significantly.” She swallowed back bitter tears. “Now, if you will
excuse me, I
shall leave your study, and you, in peace.”
She brushed past him, trying not to show how her hands shook. He did not try to stop
her, did not catch her arm or call her back as she fled.
Returning to the ballroom was out of the question. No, sh
e needed air, and quiet, and
time to purge her memory of that terrible, wonderful kiss.
Edward had not meant anything by it
–
she understood that, deep inside. Yet part of her
still wanted to believe he had kissed her because she was
herself
, Miranda Price
, bookish
and plain and interfering as she might be.
Not simply because she was anyone but Miss Davenport.
Vision blurred by unshed tears, she hurried along the hall and pushed open the side
door leading into the garden. The night breeze cooled her flushe
d cheeks, and the dimness
enfolded her. Only a last bit of twilight hung silver in the western sky. From the forest
beyond, a bird called once, twice, then fell silent. The flowers were all closed, except for
the roses. Miranda crossed her arms and tried t
o take a deep breath. It took three tries
before she could inhale past the tightness in her chest.
She would stay out here, in the dusk garden, until she had composed herself.
Then she
would find Charlie and tell him she felt unwell and was leaving. Yes
–
that was the best
course. She could not remain here, could not watch as Leticia Davenport paraded her
conquest about the ballroom.
Especially not with the memory of Edward’s kiss still tingling her lips. Much as she
tried, she knew it was a kiss she would
never forget.
Edward’s head buzzed, and he ran one hand through his hair, tugging at the roots.
What the devil had possessed him to kiss Miranda?
Had his time in London truly changed him into the jaded rake she believed him to be?
38
No. He’d taken l
eave of his senses tonight, but it was not from depravity. And, despite
her accusations, he did not want to rush out and kiss any woman who presented herself.
Only Miranda Price
–
who took everything he thought he knew and turned it on its head.
He dimly r
ecalled the conversation with Charlie she’d described. He had been teasing,
when he’d said such things of Miranda
–
though there had been a kernel of truth to his
words. Still, it had not been kind. Casting his mind back, he remembered that Charlie had
pun
ched him in the shoulder and called him an idiot. Edward had apologized, and thought
no more of it. That Miranda had been eavesdropping never occurred to him.
He tugged at his hair again. What had his careless, harmful words been?
That she was bookish
–
t
rue enough. It was a mild insult. However, since encountering
any number of empty
-
headed misses in London, he’d learned to value a woman with some
learning and intelligence. And hadn’t Miranda done her best to try and sort out whatever
was wrong with the e
state’s finances? She certainly had a better sense for figures than he
did.
He had called her plain
–
which had also seemed true. She was a country miss, nothing
like the fashionably desirable ladies in Town. Yet he’d grown strangely fond of her wide,
rosy
mouth, the light in her brown eyes, the particular arrangement of features that made
her uniquely Miss Miranda Price.
So, not plain
–
any more than a refreshing glass of water was plain compared to an
overly
-
sweet cup of punch. He knew now which was the m
ore quenching.
And the tendency to tag along where not wanted? That was the province of younger
sisters
–
and the one thing that had undeniably changed in Miss Miranda Price. In fact, he
suspected it had on that very day five years ago, as a result of her
overhearing his cruelly
casual words.
She had changed, in part
–
but the truth was he had changed more.
“There you are, my lord!” a voice exclaimed from the doorway. “I was wondering
where you’d hidden yourself.”
Edward glanced up, to see Leticia Davenport
standing at the threshold. She held a
small lamp which cast odd shadows on her features and made her pale gown appear
ghostly.
“Miss Davenport
–
my apologies for worrying you. Let me escort you back to the
ballroom.” He offered his arm.
He would deposit L
eticia back in company, then go find Miranda. He owed her an
apology, long overdue.
Miss Davenport ignored his arm and pushed past him into the study, setting her lamp
on the desk nex
Ah and so we have character growth...
The way you are developing these characters is so much fun to read! Its interesting to see the confusion caused by this potion and Kagome's secret, I look forward to more!
Ankita (Chapter 94) - Sat 09 Jul 2016
:)
Edith (Chapter 93) - Mon 30 May 2016
I keep falling more and more in love with this story! Please update soon!
Whaaa!? Sesshomarus getting touchy! Nice update, Its so interesting to see them interact both trying to deal with thier new feelings with the love potion debacle involved. (:
Sesshomaru's heart (Chapter 93) - Sun 22 May 2016
Is it just me, or is Kagome more trouble than she's worth? First she makes him beg or admits he needs her help, that I understood. So she agrees to help but at the first chance breaks her word by running away so what choice did he have but to resort to the potion. She seems eager to be problematic knowing nothing of his culture or why she should heed his requests for her safety even though she herself had a dream that could easily have been a premanition. Her responses are confusing to me. Its like her goal is to annoy him rather than "Play a role." I think the story is interesting but im just a bit confused by kagome's character. Based on her limited history and knowledge of him, she trusts everyone faster than she did him (did she forget about him saving her in the canon twice). Now she is claiming love? She is not honest about the true effect of the potion so she can't expect him to take her seriously in that regard if she plans to act the part she is starting to feel now. Unless her goal is to toy with him. I'm eager to see how this story will play out.
Ankita (Chapter 93) - Sun 22 May 2016
Hahahhaha cuteee :) ufff i m just waiting for the truth to come out :/ but knowing Sesshoumaru he might distance himself so in the end kago will get hurt ~_~ don't know who to root for
Well...things are definitely moving along. I don't think he is playing anymore. Thanks for the lovely update. Cheers!
I...AM....HOOKED!!! I need this in my life!!! Update when you can...love it!!!! ~SP
I think I may have missed a chapter or two here. Hmmm, it's getting tense and this story just keeps getting better! Cheers !
lauren (Chapter 92) - Thu 12 May 2016
Really enjoying this story, can't wait for the next chapter!
Selfish descisions biting you in the ass Sess? Wpnder when or if he can figure out she isnt unfluenced by that potion... nice update!
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