Free The Fairy Tale Bride by Kelly McClymer Page B

his
kisses, his caresses. Silently she answered the question he had not
made her answer that night. Yes. She would have allowed him to make
love to her if they had not discovered Betsy in the loft. Indeed,
she ached at the thought of what she had missed.
    She knew with certainty that were he to climb
into her bedroom window, like Rapunzel's love, she would give
herself to him without hesitation. It was only marriage she didn't
want.
    What kind of a wanton was she to feel that
way? If Grimthorpe had discovered her, her escapade would have
afforded a week's worth of scandalous gossip in London. Miranda
herself might have been completely ruined, but she gave little
credit to that.
    It was his reputation that concerned her. The
Dukes of Kerstone had been above reproach since the title was
conferred — before that even, when they were mere earls. Should the
duke be made a mockery of for a situation not of his own
making?
    True, it would be a minor blot, nothing like
the shame attached to her. But Miranda had been in London briefly.
She knew the avid joy with which this piece of news would be passed
from vicious tongue to jaded ear. No one was more mocked than a
fallen saint. And no one deserved that mockery less than the
duke.
    Putting those thoughts aside, Miranda briskly
hugged Hero and pushed her out the door. "Please make sure there is
no one in the kitchen to see me slip away." She added, hoping to
vanquish the odd stare her sister had given her as she turned away
and headed down the stairs, "I have no wish to marry, Hero. Truly I
do not. Not even the Duke of Kerstone, as much as I admire
him."
    Becoming his mistress would have been a more
likely outcome — though, of course, she would not have considered
such a thing. One night, that was all she would have wanted — one
night to know what it was that his kisses promised her.
    Thankfully, he had been too much of a
gentleman to take advantage of her. She had to be honest — he had
been meddling when he had kissed her the first time. Trying to
teach her a lesson had taught him one. She smiled. Even though the
kiss he had given her was more in the way of a lesson than a
liberty, she knew that he had enjoyed it much more than he had
expected.
    Her smile died. He would have insisted that
they marry if he had made love to her. Perhaps Valentine was right.
She was foolish to think life was like a fairytale. Maybe there
were not always happy endings. This ending was the happiest she
would get — no marriage, no more of Simon's kisses.
    Still, there was a touch of regret she could
not explain. Perhaps it had to do with the longings that had
plagued her daydreams since he had kissed her. She closed her eyes:
Daydreams were all she had of him. Though, perhaps if she had not
been a silly young girl five years ago ...
    Her mind refused to consider the painful
possibility. She would simply have to be grateful that Valentine
would never learn of this. He had become such a prude since his
return from the military, he'd probably lock her in her room and
feed her bread and water for the rest of her life. Or he would try,
anyway.
    There was a tapping on her door, and before
Miranda had more time than to snatch the cap from her head and
conceal her disguise in a swirl of dark gray cloak, her youngest
sister dashed into the room, blonde curls straggling from the
ribbon meant to hold them tight.
    "Kate, you naughty girl, why aren't you
taking lessons with Juliet?"
    The six-year-old's lower lip extended in a
pout. "She called me a terror and boxed my ears."
    Miranda suspected there was more to the
story. "Whyever did she do that?"
    Kate looked briefly discomfited. "Well ... "
But then, remembering something more important than her sad tale,
the imp smiled. "I forgot, Miranda. Valentine needs you in the
drawing room right away."
    "He does?" Miranda considered letting him
stew until she got back from London, but decided that she couldn't
risk it. The trip would take the better part of today and