The Lady Wants A Fool (Bridgerton)

chapter twenty-three

She was watching as Miles took his time in teasing her, but she hadn't minded. It was all too lovely. The day, him, the moment. Everything felt perfect for the first time. She had been nervous, but her excitement outweighed it. But then Miles had taken her left foot in his hand.

A warning had went off somewhere in her mind, but she silenced it, assuming it was just her nerves. But then she realized as he rubbed his hand up the back of her calf that this was bad. Really bad. The scar. She thought as Miles lifted her leg to inspect it. The scar she had gotten with him during her fight with Thomas Cowper.

She closed her eyes afraid what she might see, praying he wouldn't notice. Praying he was too daft to remember something like that. But prayers were rarely answered and this time was no different. Miles sat upright letting her leg fall to the ground as he stared at her. And he really stared, she turned her face away, embarrassed by her naked state. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

He was angry, the look of astonishment and rage mixed on his face as his grip on her chin tightened.
"Who are you!?" He roared at her. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes.
"Miles what are you talk-"
"Don't lie to me!" He roared again before she could finish.
"Your father, he has a bastard son doesn't he?" She looked at him helplessly and tried to speak but nothing came out.

"Doesn't he!" He yelled, but she could see the realization in his eyes.
"Miles let me explain." She said wiggling her head free from his grasp. But he didn't hear her, he wasn't looking at her anymore, he was looking at Clarence. He was confused and angry, but most of all it was the pain that flashed across his face that hurt her the most.

Miles got off of her and ran his hands through his hair. His chestnut brown hair tousled in all directions.
"Miles." She whimpered hoping he would look at her. He was standing with his back to her now, like the sight of her disgusted him.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. That seemed to liven him up, he snatched his shirt off the ground and pulled it over his head. Then he ran away.

She couldn't help it, she started crying. She tried dressing quickly to catch up to him, but what did it matter when he refused to look at her. Refused to listen to what she had to say. At least they hadn't made love, at least she could still claim her virtue. The thought broke her heart, but if he decided to cancel the engagement this was good news for her. Though it felt like she had just fallen into a dark pit that she had no way of climbing out of.

She had been foolish to think he would find it funny. Of course he hadn't. For all she knew he had mourned for her as if she had died six years ago. If she thought about it like that, then she couldn't help that he felt angry towards her. If roles were reversed perhaps she'd feel the same. But it was more than anger, Miles had felt betrayed. It was there in his face plain enough for her to see.

She had hurt him in a way she couldn't understand. At least she was intelligent enough to admit it.

He ran away. It was a cowards move, but what other option had there been? Miles was still trying to wrap his mind around it all. It just wasn't possible, Eton didn't allow female students. There were specific schools for women, why the devil had she gone to Eton?

Even as he asked himself it was painfully clear. She had wanted to inherit the duchy. It had all been for her family. But that didn't lessen the crime. And it was a crime, impersonating a man, then attending Eton as one. It had to be a crime. Miles didn't remember mounting his horse and he didn't remember the ride to Hastings House.

He could barely see through his rage as he wrapped furiously on the door. Jefferies opened it with mild shock.
"Mr. Bridgerton." He said as Miles pushed past him into the house.
"David!" He yelled out, afraid that he was losing his mind.
"David!" He yelled again, this time just because he felt the need to scream.