Miranda's Mistake

April 2003 release

Available for pre-purchase at amazon.com
ISBN # 0451208382
(click on the ISBN to order directly from Amazon.com)

A diamond of the first water, Miranda, Lady Crandle, doesn’t often leave London. But the young widow ventures out into the country when her dearest friend asks for assistance with a hunting party on her family’s estate. Never does she think that among the guests will be the man she jilted seven years earlier…the only man she has ever loved.

From the moment they meet again, Evan Langley, Earl of Ashbourne, cannot take his eyes off Miranda. She is as beautiful as ever, her thick auburn hair still shines with glimmers of gold, and time has not touched her delectable form. But can he truly forgive the woman who spurned him to marry a man of greater means and broke his heart?

CHAPTER ONE
October 1818
Leicestershire

"Miranda, thank goodness you have come. I do not know what I would have done without you."

Miranda embraced her dear friend, Beatrice, the Lady Rothwell, on the front steps of Rothwell Park. "I am quite happy to help."

Beatrice pulled back to look at her closely. "You do not mind, truly?"

Miranda breathed in the crisp clean air of the countryside and smiled. "Truly, I am glad to be here."

Beatrice hugged her again. "I was worried for you on your trip. I know you prefer London to the country. It has been a long time since you have visited."

Miranda squeezed her friend tighter, feeling a bit guilty. "Too long, I am afraid."

"Come." Beatrice ushered Miranda through the door. "Rothwell will actually join us for tea. Your luggage arrived yesterday and no doubt your maid will wish to organize your things." Beatrice's servant quickly escorted Miranda's maid up the stairs.

Miranda followed Beatrice through the spacious and well appointed halls. She welcomed her friend's managing ways and suddenly felt quite at home. Miranda remembered when Beatrice, once her governess, had left Hemsley Manor to marry Lord Rothwell. It was just before Miranda had left for London and her first season.

Lord Rothwell chose the very capable Beatrice as his wife with utmost faith that she could raise his daughter to become a proper young lady. Miranda had been asked to Rothwell Park to expand upon Beatrice's work.

Artemis Rothwell had followed too closely in her papa's footsteps much to Beatrice's chagrin. The girl was too outdoorsy, too intelligent, and too plain to cut any kind of dash. Miranda had been sent for to see what she could do in little more than two weeks before several families descended upon Rothwell Park for a hunting party.

They entered a cozy drawing room with a crackling fire in the grate. Several paintings of hunting scenes graced the walls in addition to a pistol collection. Lord Rothwell lounged in an overstuffed chair by the fire. She noted that he had not changed out of his riding clothes. His boots held traces of mud and his eyes were closed.

"Beldon!" Beatrice scolded.
Miranda smiled when she saw him nearly jump at his wife's voice.
"You could have changed, dear."

"Miranda doesn't mind, do you?" he asked after he stood and stretched.

"No, of course not." She laughed out loud when he scooped her up for a big embrace that left her breathless. Lord Rothwell was a large man with a heart nearly as enormous.

"How are you?" he asked her once he placed her back on her feet.

"I am well, Rothwell. Beatrice tells me you have invited half the ton here for the hunt."

"As usual, she exaggerates." He gave his wife a playful wink. "I have invited only a few eligible young men and some acquaintances along with their wives and daughters."

"See," Beatrice quipped.

Miranda laughed again. It felt good to be here. She had not been to Rothwell Park since her father had died six years ago. That had been the last time she had been home too. She had come to terms with her decision to marry the Earl of Crandle seven years ago, but coming to the country always swamped her with feelings of regret for the life she had left behind.

She shook off her melancholy thoughts and helped Beatrice who poured the tea. She was Miranda's only true friend. Beatrice visited her every year in London and the two had exchanged letters for years. "How are Artemis and the boys?"

"The twins are on their Grand Tour, no doubt causing trouble all over the continent," Rothwell said. "Little Harry and Julian are at Eton. They will come home at Christmastide and Artemis, well." Rothwell turned to his wife. "How should we explain Artemis?"

"I saw her not two years ago," Miranda said. "She is a dear child. Surely she is well."

"Hale and hearty." Rothwell accepted a dish of tea from Beatrice.

Beatrice handed a cup of tea to Miranda. "What he is trying to say, is that Artemis is showing her stubbornness right now. Currently, she is refusing a Season."

"Part of this is your fault," Rothwell said with good humor. "Its all those blasted books you have let her read. Mary Wolstencraft and such nonsense."

Miranda looked at Beatrice.

"It is not quite as simple as that. Artemis cried off from a Season last year. We did not wish to push her, but now she is swearing off marriage altogether. She has taken some of Wolstencraft's beliefs to the extreme. I have taught Artemis the delicate arts of watercolor and such, but in them she has no interest. She cares only to hang about the stables. I do not quite know what to do with her. She turned eighteen this past summer, and it is time she gave some thought to a life of her own. I thought you might help. She has always admired you."

Miranda sipped her tea. "I see. Does she know why I have come?"

Beatrice and Rothwell looked decidedly guilty. "I thought we should surprise her," Beatrice said. "Besides, I could use your help as well. You are quite used to entertaining the multitudes."

"I shall do my best. Where is she?

"Where is who?" Artemis Rothwell entered the room with a broad grin.
"Why, you of course. Now come and give me a kiss." She held out her arms.

"Miranda!" Artemis bounded across the room. "When did you arrive? I thought you were coming later with the rest of the guests."

Miranda stood her ground but was nearly knocked over by the tall young lady that embraced her. "My goodness," she pulled back, her hands resting high upon Artemis' shoulders. "Let me look at you. You have grown considerably since the last time you were in London." Miranda realized she had said the wrong thing when the light dimmed from Artemis' eyes.

"I am rather a giantess am I not?"

"Just like your papa," Rothwell beamed.

Miranda felt her heart twist. It was obvious the girl was uncomfortable with her size. "You do your name proud. You look like an Amazon huntress." Miranda patted Artemis' back. "There is no need to slouch. Now come and help me unpack. You must tell me all of the local gossip." Miranda winked across the room at a smiling Beatrice. She would not fib about the reason she had come early. "And, I shall show you any number of things that will impress your guests."

A look of wariness stole over Artemis. "My mother put you up to this, didn't she? I do not wish to be remodeled into a simpering miss casting lures out to hapless males. I am the equal of any man who's been invited here. I'll not make a fool of myself trying to attract their attention." She folded her arms with a rebellious harrumph.

Miranda realized that she had much work ahead of her. "Of course not, dear. But there is an art to being a woman. Consider me an artist working with an excellent palette of paints. We need only to put them to use on canvas."

Artemis looked skeptical.

Miranda noticed that Beatrice had set down her tea and patted her husband's arm to keep him quiet. "Come, Artemis, let us both show Miranda to her room."

#

Evan Langley, Earl of Ashbourne rode quietly along the lane. He was early, he knew, but then Rothwell had expressly asked him to come early. He let out a sigh.
It was time he set up his nursery. If Rothwell's daughter proved willing, he'd marry the girl and be done with it. He had no desire to go to London for the Season. He had no taste for it, not anymore, not after Miranda.

He wondered why after all this time, he had thought of her. He had effectively kept her out of his mind for a few years now. Perhaps, it was his plans to wed that forced her memory to plague him. He experienced the familiar pang somewhere in the region of his heart that always stabbed him when he thought of her.
Evan had done his best to become the logical man he wanted to be. He alone controlled his destiny, his life, and his feelings. But it never failed to annoy him how the memory of Miranda Hemsley unsettled him. After all these years, she still had a hold on him.

"What has you so glum?"

Evan turned to his friend and fellow huntsman, George Clasby. "Nothing really."

"Come now, its not like you to be so quiet. This is the Quorn we are riding in little more than a week. I hear Rothwell has horses fit for the Prince Regent himself."

"He has the finest stables in England," Evan said with pride.

"I've also heard his daughter could be kept there too. She's quite the horsewoman but not nearly so fair to look upon."

"I have met her only once. She might be considered a bit plain but I cannot think she will mind staying in the country to raise a brood of heirs for the Ashbourne title." Evan shifted in his saddle. He and Clasby had chosen to ride the half-day journey to Rothwell Park. The carriage with their luggage and valets lagged behind.

"Ashbourne, there are any number of ladies who would drop dead this minute to be your countess. I don't understand why you simply don't come with me to London."

"I do not like London." Again Evan shifted in the saddle.

"So you have said before."

Evan ignored the look his friend cast him. "What of you? You travel to town every Season and still you have not wed. Who is it that you search for?"

"If I knew that, it would not be nearly as fun sampling the possibilities."

Evan shook his head. "You are a reprobate through and through."
Evan had been hunting with George Clasby for years, ever since Evan inherited the Ashbourne title and manor. Clasby's lands bordered his own and the two became fast friends hunting grouse.
Evan became a lord through a series of mishaps that ended in the deaths of each heir of the Ashbourne line before him. He had inherited a heavily mortgaged estate that had been sadly neglected. It did not take him long to fire the dishonest bailiff and sell the London Townhouse to pay down his new debts.
After five years of concentrated effort, Evan had restored Ash Manor and its vast land holdings to the rightful glory of profitable farming. He was proud of his accomplishment and he wasn't about to leave his self-made legacy to someone who could destroy what he worked so hard to bring about.
He'd not leave his title to anyone other than the fruit of his own loins. He needed a son he could raise in his own image. At thirty-four, he was not getting younger. The time to marry was at hand.

"I want to fall madly in love," George said. "I have no need of wealth or status. I am completely content as I am, but I should like to fall in love. I have never been in love before."

"It is not all that it is hailed to be."

"Love?"

"Precisely." Evan nearly gritted his teeth. "Trust me, you will rue the day it happens."

"My word, Ashbourne. You are against falling in love." Clasby looked genuinely aghast. "There can only be one reason. You have loved and lost. I had no idea."

"It is not something a man parades about. I was young and quite foolish. I did not realize the way of things then. I do now."

"Pray, enlighten me," Clasby asked with a grin.

"Don't be a dolt. You know the ways of women and their greedy hearts. Have you not escaped from the clutches of a fortune hunter or two?"

"They cannot all be that way."

"Can they not?" Evan asked.

#

It had been two weeks and Miranda had made only small improvement with Artemis. She and Beatrice had coaxed their young charge into dancing only to suffer from bruised toes. Miranda had shown Artemis how to walk like a lady, but the child continued to move with long, aggressive strides. Lord Rothwell was no help. He only laughed at their efforts much to his wife's annoyance.

"You have been a great help to Mama," Artemis said as she looked out of the window of Miranda's room.

"It is nothing really." Miranda tried to tuck wisps of her hair back into the tight knot her maid, Babette had begrudgingly formed this morning. Babette was used to styling her mistress' hair in much more elaborate styles. She was sorely distressed when Miranda had asked for something simple.

"But it is," Artemis came away from the glass to sit upon the bed in a pool of sunshine streaming into the room. "We have never had so many grand folks stay with us before. Papa is not much of a society man and Mama is nervous about making him proud."

Miranda turned away from the mirror, her hair momentarily forgotten. "But they have been invited to the finest homes in London. Your parents are very much admired. There is nothing for them to prove."

"Mama thinks there is. Miranda, you opened many of those doors with your connections. Papa never went to London until after he married Mama."

Miranda sat down next to Artemis and stroked the girl's long dark hair that hung past her shoulders. She was of an age to put her hair up, but she continued to wear it loose. "You used to love to come to London to visit me. Why do you not wish to go in the spring and have a Season?"

"I will not be auctioned off to the highest bidder like a horse at Tattersall's," Artemis hissed.

"It is not like that. There are parties and balls and wonderful places to see."

"Pah." Artemis stood to pace the room. "I know that my parents wish to see me wed. I am not stupid." She swung her arms open wide. "This whole house party is their attempt to bring the gentlemen to me since I do not wish to go to them in London."

Miranda narrowed her gaze. She did not understand why a Season concerned her so. "Does it not bother you to have them come here for your inspection?"

Artemis shook her head. "I am comfortable here. This is my home."

There was more to Artemis than met the eye. She was a warm and kind-hearted young lady who doted on her family as they doted on her. Rothwell had indulged his only daughter's every whim but he also had treated her much as he did his sons. When he married Beatrice, Artemis was ten years old and desperately in need of feminine influence.

Although Beatrice made an excellent role model, she had instilled her own ideas of a woman's independence into her stepdaughter. The two of them had created a young woman who straddled the lines of what was male and female. Artemis was an enigma. Artemis believed that if she left the safety of her own home, she might be ridiculed for her appearance.

Miranda was not about to let that happen. She had tried to teach Artemis to move with grace and dignity. There was no reason the girl could not make a good match. Miranda was determined to equip her with the tools needed to capture the attentions of the man of her choice. Artemis deserved a love match.
Artemis stopped pacing to look out of the window that overlooked the vast drive and valley beyond. "Oh my goodness, he's here!"
"Who's here?" Miranda joined her at the window.
"Lord Ashbourne. He is one of the best riders in the county. I knew Papa had invited him, but I never expected him this early. I cannot wait to ride with him and test his mettle."
Miranda noted that two gentlemen approached on horseback. Both appeared to be well appointed but she could not distinguish their features due to the distance. "How do you know it is he?"
"Do you see the grey hunter he rides? Papa sold it to him this spring. Paid a pretty price he did. I'd know that horse anywhere."

Miranda smiled but there was something almost familiar about this Lord Ashbourne. She did not know the name, nor did she recall ever meeting this lord in London. She stepped away from the curtains with out giving the man another thought. "Come Artemis, let us go to your room. We must choose which of your new gowns you shall wear for dinner."
#

Dinner would be served shortly. Miranda instructed the housekeeper to set two more place settings while Beatrice checked with Cook on the additional quantity of food needed. Rothwell had not informed his wife of his early invitation to the gentlemen. Miranda waited in the drawing room with a nervous hostess.

"I do hope Artemis behaves herself." Beatrice paced the floor wringing her hands.

"She shall. She is quite looking forward to meeting this Lord Ashbourne. She tells me he is an expert rider." Miranda smoothed the folds of her carefully chosen russet silk gown. She brought with her mainly modest gowns of simple styling so as not to compete with either of the Rothwell ladies.

"You have been so good for Artemis," Beatrice said. "I know Beldon and I have indulged her more than perhaps was good for her, but she is our only daughter after all."

"You have done an excellent job of raising her. Artemis is a sensitive and caring child. Underneath her rough and tumble exterior is a heart of pure gold."

Voices in the hall announced the gentlemen and Miranda prepared herself by affixing her society smile. Rothwell led the men into the room.

" Ashbourne, I thank you for the praises of my stables, perhaps you might ride one of them during the hunt," Rothwell said.

Miranda looked up and her smile died upon her lips. Her eyes widened and she felt the blood drain from her face. She leaned against the library table, grateful for something solid to hold her upright.
In walked Evan Langley, the man she jilted seven years ago.
The only man she had ever loved.

Quickly, she closed her mouth and tried to quell her rapidly beating heart. Panic seized her. What should she say to him? She had not spoken a word to him; she had not even seen him since she broke his heart with the news of her marriage to Lord Crandle. What on earth was he doing here?

Evan bent to kiss Beatrice's hand in greeting. He had not noticed her yet.

"And this is my wife's dearest friend, Lady Crandle," Rothwell introduced them. "Miranda, this is Lord Ashbourne and Mr. Clasby."

Miranda watched the warmth in Evan's gray eyes disappear as recognition dawned in his gaze. With an icy coldness he looked directly into her eyes. "Lady Candle, how nice to meet you."

"Lord Ashbourne," she breathed. When had he become a Lord? "Mr. Clasby," she added with a nod.

Mr. Clasby, she noted, glanced between Evan and her until Rothwell pulled him away to show him a huge stag's head mounted upon the wall. Evan stayed where he was much to Miranda's dismay. She feared she had not recovered from the shock of seeing him. Her mouth had gone completely dry and she hadn't an intelligent thought in her head.

"Miranda," he said quietly. "It has been a long time."

"Indeed it has." He wore his hair much shorter than before. The soft dark curls she used to love to twine about her fingers have been shorn off.

"You look well," he said.

"As do you, Lord Ashbourne." His handsome good looks had only improved with age. "And may I congratulate you upon procuring a title." Somehow her words sounded terribly inappropriate.

He narrowed his gaze. "Too bad I received it so late."

"Yes." She did not miss the insult he cast toward her.

"So, how is old Crandle," he asked pleasantly enough as if their sudden meeting after seven years meant nothing to him.

"Crandle is dead," she blurted. "He passed away a little over a year ago."

Surprise lit his features only to be controlled by an iron-edged frown. "I did not know," he whispered. "Forgive me."
Miranda nodded at a loss what to say next.
Fortunately, Artemis chose that moment to enter the drawing room, relieving Miranda from having to respond. Miranda smiled with pride. Artemis, dressed in a simple gown of pale green muslin looked very grown up indeed, with her hair piled high atop her head. Beatrice beamed as she introduced her daughter to Evan - Lord Ashbourne and Mr. Clasby.

Artemis did not act the least bit shy or awkward. In fact she held out her hand, as any gentleman would when meeting another gentleman. Miranda sighed, although some of the rough edges had been smoothed, Artemis was still too forthright in her manners. Neither of the men appeared to mind. Each took their turn bowing over her extended hand, making the slight faux pas disappear entirely.

Miranda watched the introductions from afar, grateful for the reprieve. Evan looked older, of course, but he also appeared to have changed. Not surprising, she supposed after seven years. The ready smile that used to always hover at the corners of his mouth, accenting his dimples was gone. A polite pursing of his lips had taken its place. His eyes, which had always been clear windows into his heart and soul, were now clouded and shuttered.
He carried himself with authority as if he had been born and raised into a title instead of inheriting one from a distant relative. And yet with all her connections in London, she had never heard about his new status. She had no idea when he had become Lord Ashbourne or how.
Rothwell came up to stand beside her. "You have done well by Artemis and I thank you."

Miranda wanted to explain that they had a way yet to go, but refrained when she saw the pride shining in Rothwell's eyes. The one thing she could never find fault in either of Artemis' parents, was their love for their daughter.

"Thank you."

"She will make the right man an admirable wife." Rothwell's chest actually swelled with pride.

Miranda agreed. But she did not say aloud that Artemis did not appear overly interested in becoming a wife.

Dinner was announced and Miranda was indeed relieved. She wanted out of the small drawing room. Evan's presence seemed to fill it causing Miranda to continually glance his way.

Rothwell and Beatrice led the way to the dining room and Mr. Clasby offered her his arm, which she gladly took but not before she saw the artificially sweet smile Evan bestowed upon Artemis before offering his arm to her.

It was then that it hit her. Evan had been invited for Artemis' sake. Rothwell's words echoed in her ears. "She will make the right man an admirable wife."
Miranda's appetite was lost as she considered the scene enfolding before her.

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