Read Online The Fairy Tale Bride by Kelly McClymer - Free Book Online Page A

flashed as Simon
scowled.
    His silvery tone reminded Miranda of the time
when a younger Giles Grimthorpe had chided her for being missish.
"You should thank me, Kerstone. Once the mothers know of your
predilection, they might stop throwing their daughters at your
head." He laughed. "Even Camberley will think twice about allying
his daughter with you, dukedom or no."
    Miranda's breath caught in her throat. Had
Simon been planning a marriage with Celine Camberley? She did not
want to believe it, even though she knew that she herself did not
want to marry any man — not even Simon. To kiss him further
perhaps, to feel his hands on her bare arms as she had this
evening, those things she wanted. But they only came with marriage
— and marriage was too high a price to pay for the dizzying taste
and feel of the Duke of Kerstone.
    Betsy's grandfather had had enough. His spare
form straightened and he said softly, "Come, daughter. We must get
the child home." He put an arm around the woman's shaking shoulders
and cupped Betsy's chin in his hand to give her a reassuring smile.
The child did not seem to notice the sad cast to her grandfather's
expression, for she beamed at him with all the brightness she had
shown earlier in the evening.
    Miranda vowed to herself to stop in and make
certain that Betsy and her mother were not harmed by this night's
events. Perhaps some of the fruits of Anderlin's gardens would be
welcome to mother, daughter, and grandfather.
    A moment more and she would be free, she
hoped. And then Betsy said, "I want to say good-bye to your wife,
Your Grace."
     
    Simon could not fault the child for her wish.
Miranda had treated her with kindness and it was natural to want to
say goodbye. Still, as the room fell silent, every eye upon him,
the quiet hope that, for once, Fate would be thwarted, died. He
wished he had thought to stuff an apple slice in the child's mouth,
while he was hiding all other evidence of Miranda's presence. But,
truly, what could he have expected? He had heard Fate laughing.
    Grimthorpe's eyebrow raised. "Have you
married since I saw you this afternoon, Kerstone?"
    Simon tensed. Under no circumstance would he
allow Miranda and Grimthorpe to meet. Not here. Not like this.
"No."
    Not content with his answer, Grimthorpe
turned to Betsy and asked with a charming mockery of a smile, "Just
what does the Duchess of Kerstone look like, child?"
    "She's beautiful and kind," Betsy said with a
hint of belligerence.
    "Of course. But I must know if she's fair or
dark." Betsy remained obstinately mute, for which Simon blessed
her. He would need to marry Miranda, now, of course. But he would
prefer that no one know for a certainty that she was with him
tonight. Inexplicably, even as he focused on protecting her from
humiliation, his thoughts raced ahead to marrying her. There was
not a trace of regret, despite the shambles it made of his careful
plans.
    Grimthorpe coaxed with false sweetness, his
gaze trained on Simon. "Perhaps I know her — the lovely new Duchess
of Kerstone that we knew nothing about .... " His glance slid to
Betsy, who was saying nothing further. Giving up on the child, he
turned his attention back to Simon.
    "How long were you planning to keep this
marvelous news a secret? How interesting the ton will find this,
Kerstone."
    All Simon's concentration focused on removing
this man from the cottage so that he could be alone with Miranda.
Her naïveté was such that he could not be sure she understood the
implication of their predicament. "The child needs to go home. She
is tired."
    As if set in motion by his words, the
villagers quickly nodded respectfully to Simon and filed out of the
cottage. Grimthorpe did not.
    The cottage was eerily silent with just the
three them. Poking idly at the basket of food, at the blankets,
Grimthorpe suddenly bent over and plucked up Miranda's boots. "Care
to tell me whose feet these boots might grace?"
    Simon said nothing, his jaw tensed with
anger. For a moment