The Fairy Tale Bride

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Simon opened the door to Miranda’s adjoining room quietly and glanced inside. If she was not yet fully clothed, he wanted to be able to perform a rapid tactical retreat. He told himself he was relieved when he saw that she was almost ready to go down to breakfast.

Something made him pause in the doorway, though, just watching as a maidservant fluttered around, offering scents and powders. He smiled at Miranda’s courteous rejection of all offerings. He liked the vanilla scent of her and the near perfection of her powder-free skin.

He stepped into the room. “Are you ready to meet Arthur this morning?” He kept his tone light and bantering, hoping that a maid’s presence would encourage Miranda to do so also.

She whirled from her toilette, surprised that he would just walk in on her as she dressed. The maid, too, seemed more startled than she ought. For a moment he considered turning around and leaving them in peace to get on with the business of dressing. The impulse passed quickly as he savored the view of Miranda with her hair still down, as she had come to him last night.

Though she was already dressed for the morning in a peach gown with cream trim, the fall of her hair made her seem barely decent. It was a luxury he had decided to allow himself. There was little danger of anything untoward happening between them once she was safely dressed and the day had begun. It was evening — and the middle of the night that were dangerous.

Miranda smiled uncertainly at him and once again settled herself so that the maid could pin up her hair. Her eyes met his in the looking glass. “You seem to be well rested and cheerful again.”

The little maidservant seemed unnerved by his presence, and Miranda winced as a lock of her hair was clumsily tangled in the brush. As she let out a soft cry of pain, the girl stopped her ministrations and looked as if she might burst into tears.

He stepped forward and took the brush from the maid’s trembling fingers. “You may go.”

The girl stared uncomprehendingly at him for a moment. “But Your Grace, I must see to Her Grace’s hair.”

“I shall take over for this morning.” Simon gave the girl a slight push toward the door, afraid if he didn’t she might remain rooted to the floor forever. With a muted cry, she ran from the room, her cheeks blooming scarlet, her eyes filled with tears.

Simon brushed Miranda’s hair gently. “I’m sorry, my dear. I know she is inexperienced, but I thought you might prefer to hire your own personal maid, so I had Mrs. Hoskins promote her into the position of temporary maid.”

“She has done her best, Simon. She is simply very young.” There was a reproachful look in Miranda’s eyes that suggested she was displeased with him, almost as if he had beaten the girl instead of dismissing her from the room.

“Of course. I would never have promoted her not even temporarily — to this position if she had not shown promise.”

“She just needs someone to show her how to behave as a lady’s maid.” Her eyes met his in the mirror and she smiled warily. “Someone to show her how to brush hair as well as you do it. I must wonder where you learned such skills. Did you ever serve as a lady’s maid?”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. It was sweet torment to go no farther, and he began to regret having sent the maid from the room. “It is not proper for a wife to be jealous of her husband’s acquired skills, merely to appreciate them. Some things a wife is not meant to know.”

In the mirror, he could see the confusion in her expression. He did not want to explain himself, or last night, however. Explanations would close the distance between them, and for his sanity he needed to keep Miranda a few steps away from him, emotionally as well as physically.