Free Miles Before I Sleep by M. Donice Byrd Page A

“Apparently, she didn’t like the idea of marrying me.”
    “But both you and Mr. James agreed, if the chit was strongly opposed, the betrothal would be broken. All she had to do was refuse.”
    Impatience turned quickly to anger. “Don’t look to me for answers, Rory. I know as little about it as you do.” Miles strode past his redheaded cousin, and the man who gave him the paper.
    “Where are you going?”
    “To find the man who has the answers,” he replied without turning around.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    7
     
     
    Miles stared at the likeness of Andrea in the newspaper. The woodcut copy had closely reproduced the self-portrait her parents had found in her room after she disappeared. To Miles, that picture, or more accurately, the original, said much more than the note she left. He could not look into that beautiful face without his heart aching. She looked so incredibly sad and lonely. At first glance, her beauty drew his notice. He had never forgotten her large eyes and high soft cheekbones. He had never imagined she could be more beautiful than she had been five years earlier, but he was wrong. As he continued to look at the likeness, he noted the subtle expression she wore. It broke his heart to know he was greatly to blame for that haunting faraway expression.
                  Christ! The whole thing had been botched from the beginning—not only by him, but also by her parents. So much of it was a misunderstanding. He knew as soon as he read Andrea’s letter, she thought she was to marry his cousin, Rory—an unfortunate mistake but completely understandable since she had been introduced to him as Miles and not the nickname given to him by Richard’s Irish family. Richard never called him anything but Shamus since. It was his way of expressing that he considered him his son, even if he had not fathered Miles.
    So much could have been avoided if he had only begun a correspondence with Andrea instead of allowing Richard and Sebastian James to do all the communicating. When Miles realized Sebastian had not told Andrea, he urged him to inform her. If the man had broached the subject with his daughter, all the misunderstandings could have been cleared up.
    Now, Miles only wanted Andrea to return home safe and unharmed. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Andrea. He had personally added another five thousand pounds to the reward Sebastian offered. Forcing his eyes from the picture, he read the article that accompanied it. For five days, the story of Andrea’s disappearance was touted on the front page, and this day was no exception. However, today it included the woodcut portrait, a statement saying the betrothal had been called off, and the man involved would soon be returning to his home in America.
    Miles had no way of knowing if she was reading the newspapers but he hoped she was. He had not liked the idea of putting her picture in, fearing it would put her in greater danger. As it was, half of London had their eyes peeled for her. And the other half claimed to have seen her. Perhaps, with the picture in the paper, people would know for certain if it was Andrea.
    “Shamus, I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve said.”
    “What, Rory? I’m afraid I wasn’t listening.”
    “I said I was thinking about going to Ireland before going back home. It seems like an awfully long journey just to stay two weeks and then go home. I have kin in Ireland I’ve only known through my father’s correspondence whom I’d like to meet. You don’t mind, do you?”
    “No, just as long as you don’t tarry in London since she thinks you’re me. It won’t do any good if I leave and you stay. If she catches sight of you after the ship sails, she may assume we’re trying to trick her and might not come out of hiding.”
    Miles, as had become his habit in the last few days, scanned the street, his eyes lingering on every blonde until he