Free The Price of Indiscretion by Cathy Maxwell Page B

Miranda had caused with Alex, and for no other reason than she just didn’t like the way Miranda looked.
    Her gossip had done the trick. It had marked Miranda and, consequently, Charlotte and Constance. Their father had become even more strict and oppressive.
    Miranda had not minded his heavy-handedness or the rumors and innuendoes. After all, she’d earned them. However, it had been unfair to Charlotte and Constance.
    Setting the towel aside, she took a deep breath. Her head hurt from the strain of the evening, and not for the first time, she wondered what would have happened if she’d never met Alex. Would she be like Laurel and married with children? Or would there have been another reason for the women in the valley to turn against her and her sisters?
    The thought made her angry.
    It wasn’t her fault God had made her pretty. She’d had nothing to do with it, but if men were going to go silly and women spiteful around her—well, she should use what she’d been given. Fighting angry, she left the retiring room.
    The hallway was empty. Music drifted from the garden. Miranda paused, debating if she should walk out there now, or wait until the music had ended and make an entrance, much as Alex had—
    An awareness that she wasn’t alone tickled her mind.
    She glanced over her shoulder. The hall was empty…but there was one door open. She studied it a moment, uncertain what was wrong, and then Alex took a step out of it.
    For a long moment, their gazes held, and then he turned and disappeared into the room, a signal for her to follow.
    Miranda remembered the game well. Ten years ago, it was one they’d played in the forest. She would be on an errand or performing some chore, and she’d have a sense he was there, watching her. Sometimes the sign would be as simple as a feather in a tree. Or she’d hear the sound of his soft laughter or catch the quickest glimpse of him.
    And then she would leave whatever she’d been doing and move deeper into the woods, knowing he’d be there waiting for her.
    The past became present in her mind. She even imagined she heard him whisper her name. Her pulse quickened. Her feet began moving toward him.

Six
    T he dark room opened onto a deserted area of the terrace that had been set up for privacy. There was no light save for the moon.
    Large pots of conical junipers, gardenias, and tiny trailing flowers shaped like white stars lined the edge of the lattice wall that separated this part of the terrace from the rest of the house. Red roses climbed up the trellis against the support columns. Their heady scent mixed with those of the gardenias.
    Beyond the lattice came the music and conversation and laughter from the party. No one would hear them here.
    It was the perfect spot for what Alex had in mind.
    He could feel her coming. She walked quietly, but he could hear her kid leather dancing slippers move quietly on the tile floor. He stepped into the shadows and waited.
    Miranda came out onto the terrace. Moonlight turned her hair to silver and her skin to alabaster. Her eyes were wide and dark. She looked around the terrace, her gaze stopping when she saw him.
    Alex stepped forward into the moonlight. “Having a good time this evening leading all those men around by their noses, Miranda?”
    Veral Cameron’s daughter took a step back before pulling herself up as regal as a princess. “Is that why you wanted me out here? Is that what you wished to say?”
    Oh no, there were questions he wanted answered, and this time there was no one with a horsewhip to protect her.
    “Men must come across as fools to you,” he continued conversationally.
    “You don’t.” She took another step back. She should be afraid.
    “I should,” he said, answering his own question, letting her hear his anger in the depth of his voice. “I was the biggest fool of all.”
    Almost defiantly, her face pale, she demanded, “What do you want, Alex? An apology? Would one erase what happened between