"Ah. I see.
I
would be faithful.
You
would not."
She sat up, and he stepped back, not stopping her, although he ached to shove her back to the desk and take her right there. Miranda pulled the sides of her dressing gown around her and belted the sash tightly.
"I think we shall stay with our present arrangement," she said and walked from the room, taking care not to give in and run.
******************
The following morning Uncle Rupert came down to breakfast earlier than normal for him and announced that it was time he gave Miranda the tour he had promised.
"You have been here over a week, and you've scarcely seen anything of the estate, just the village and a few farms around the house. I thought we would ride along the river," he said. "Beautiful spot, don't you think, Dev? After our stultifying evening yesterday, we deserve a treat."
"That sounds splendid," Miranda said. She would rather have stayed and worked on some of the multitude of tasks she had to do, but she felt that she ought to make a special effort with Devin's uncle, whose feelings, she suspected, had been a little hurt by his being removed from management of the estate.
"What do you say, Joseph?" he went on, turning to Mr. Upshaw. "And you, Dev? And, of course, anyone else who would care to come..."
Michael and Elizabeth, who were also there, shook their heads, but Joseph was eager to go, and Devin was almost as quick to agree.
"I'll tell Cook to fix us up a light luncheon basket," Rupert went on. "We can rest at Chasenford. It's pretty there."
They arranged to meet at a little before eleven, at which time they set out from the stable yard for the river with the quaint name of Dove. Much of what Miranda had seen of the area consisted of magnificent vistas of moors or rolling hills, grand and green and almost barren of trees. She was unprepared for the sight of the river when they wound their way down to it, meandering in a shallow, lazy fashion at the base of high white limestone cliffs. The cliffs rose up in a sheer expanse, scarred here and there with holes that Dev explained were the entrances to caves that wandered through the porous rock. The narrow river was lined with grassy banks, dotted with large chunks of limestone rock. Slender, graceful ash and alder trees grew along its edge, casting shadows across the dark-green water. It was a lovely, peaceful place, undisturbed except for their presence.
The banks were narrow, and they broke up into pairs to ride alongside it. Dev moved forward to chat with his uncle, and Joseph rode beside Miranda, enthusiastically pointing out all the beauties they saw. They gradually fell somewhat behind the other two.
Miranda was watching Devin, not really paying much attention to what her father was saying. Joseph turned to look up at the limestone cliff towering above them, and suddenly his expression turned to one of horror.
"Watch out!" he screamed, spurring his horse forward and reaching out to slap the flank of Miranda's horse.
Miranda turned in surprise even as the horse leapt forward. An instant later, so close she felt the breeze of it falling, a large chunk of limestone crashed onto the ground behind her. The noise sent her mount into a panic, and the mare took off running, unseating Miranda and sending her falling flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her.
She lay on the ground, staring up at the sky, struggling to breathe, trying to assimilate what had just happened. There were shouts from in front of them, then the sound of horses running. A moment later Devin was looming above her.
He dropped down onto his knees beside her, his face creased with fear. "Miranda! My God, what happened? Are you all right?" He swept her up into his arms, holding her against his chest. She could feel the trembling of his body.
Finally, blessedly, her lungs relaxed and air came rushing back in. She nodded a little uncertainly, whispering, "I think so."
"That rock almost killed you. If you had been a second slower... "
"Papa...?"
"He's fine. Just getting his horse under control. Uncle Rupert's gone after your mare." He rubbed his hand up and down her back. "Bloody hell! You could have been killed."
"Miranda!" She turned her head to see her father trotting along the bank toward them, leading his horse. "Are you all right? Sweet Jesus in heaven, when I looked up and saw that rock tumbling off..." He, too, went down on his knees, not quite so agilely, beside her.
"You saved my life."
Devin's arms tightened around her, and she felt his lips press against her hair. Miranda was shaking from the experience, and she clung to Devin.
Uncle Rupert rode up, leading Miranda's mare, and dismounted quickly, coming over to join the group. "Is she all right?" His gaze went from her to the large rock now sitting on the flat bank behind them, split in two from the force of its fall.
"Good Lord! Is that what almost hit you? It's a wonder you weren't killed! That's the thing with limestone—it breaks off and falls. But usually it's after a lot of rain. I never would have thought—I beg your pardon. I am deeply sorry. I never should have brought you this way."
"There is no way you could have known," Joseph said, rising creakily. "Thank God Elizabeth wasn't with us. She would be hysterical by now."
"I think I am close to it," Miranda said, trying a smile.
Devin made a rude noise. "You wouldn't know hysteria if you met it. My heart's about to pound right out of my chest, and you're cool as a cucumber."
"Well, I'm alive. Let's see if I can stand up."
Devin rose, setting her on her feet, his arm still around her to steady her. It felt sweet to be there, Miranda thought, and she stayed a bit longer than was absolutely necessary before she stepped away and shook out her riding habit
“We'll turn right around and go back to the house," Uncle Rupert said, starting to mount
"Not on my account" Miranda protested. "I'm fine, really. The worst that happened to me is that I was thrown, and that's happened before. There are no broken bones. I lost my breath for a moment but that's back. There is no reason to cut short our expedition for a little accident"
"A little accident!" Uncle Rupert exclaimed, staring at her goggle-eyed.
"I told you, Uncle, she is not like other women," Devin said, laughter in his voice. "You know, Miranda, there is no need for you to go on. It isn't important."
"No reason to go back, either," Miranda pointed out. "We have our lunch—unless the groom's horse stampeded, too."
"No, he's here," Rupert said faintly. "The food, as well."
"Well, I'd like to finish the tour. I think it is highly unlikely that another rock will drop on us, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so,"
"Good." Miranda dusted off her skirt. "Then let's go on."
So they continued to the bend in the river, a green, idyllic setting, and sat down to their lunch. Uncle Rupert and her father launched into a discussion of the properties of limestone, one of which apparently was its breakability. Miranda barely listened, content to sit and nibble at her food and let her nerves settle. It helped that Devin was beside her.
"And to think I found London dangerous..." she said lightly.
Devin turned and looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Well, two accidents since I moved here. I can't remember when I have ever been so accident prone."
"I see." He nodded, studying her face. "Why do you think that is?"
Miranda shrugged. "I'm not sure. The first time, I have to admit, I was careless. I leaned on a wooden railing even though I knew that much of the wood in the house had been eaten away by woodworm. That was a silly, impulsive mistake. But today—I truly cannot imagine how I could have avoided a falling rock. Should I have been paying more attention?"
"Thank God your father saw it in time. I don't know how you could have avoided it, except to keep a careful watch. Limestone slides off the face of the cliffs and falls periodically. It is always good policy not to stand too close to the edge of them, I think."
"I don't believe in signs or portents or living under a bad star or whatever you want to call it...but it does seem odd."
"Well, safest to be extra careful," he said, with an easy smile. "Just in case there is some sort of malevolent cloud hanging over us. Make sure you watch before you step. Darkwater is old and crumbling in many ways, and before it is restored, there are probably ample opportunities for accidents. You need to be careful. And if you go riding with Veronica or by yourself, make sure I am with you, or your father or Uncle Rupert. Or a groom, if there's no one else."
She looked at him oddly. "You sound very serious."
"I am serious. You could have been killed today. Promise me that you will take extra care."
Warmth stole through Miranda at the thought that he was concerned about her. "All right," she agreed, smiling. "I promise I will watch out."
******************
By the time Miranda went to bed that night, her nerves had been restored. She had been a little afraid that she would have trouble falling asleep or would suffer bad dreams as a result of the accident, but in fact she fell asleep rather quickly and slept quite peacefully until the middle of the night
Then she came awake suddenly in the dark, her eyes flying open, her heart racing. She did not know what had awakened her, and she lay for a moment, listening, looking around. Then the shout came, and she knew that something like that that must have awakened her.
It came from beyond the connecting door into Dev's room, a man's hoarse shout. "No!"
Miranda hopped out of bed, impelled by the note of urgency and horror in the voice. She ran across the room, not even pausing to put on dressing gown or slippers, and opened the connecting door.
Dev's room was dark, but there was enough moonlight coming in around the curtains for her to make out his form in the large bed. Devin was moving restlessly, his sheets tangled about him. Miranda hurried to his side. He was asleep, but obviously in the grip of a nightmare. He groaned, his face contorted and sweating, and his hand shot out suddenly, making her jump.
She took his hand in both her own, saying, "Devin. Devin, wake up!"
His eyes flew open, and for an instant he stared at her sightlessly, his chest rising and falling in labored breaths.
"Devin, it's me, Miranda. Wake up. You're having a nightmare."
His eyes changed, became focused. He looked at her, and a long shudder ran through his body. "Miranda? What are you...?"
He sat up dazedly, leaning back against the massive headboard. Miranda sat down on the bed beside him, keeping his hand in hers. "You were having a nightmare. It woke me."
"Oh." He rubbed his hand over his face. "I see. I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize." She smiled. "All of us have nightmares from time to time. Are you all right?"
He nodded. "Yes.. I—I'm just a little disoriented."
"What were you dreaming about?"
Devin shrugged. "I have it periodically. It's—" He ran his hand back through his hair and sighed. "I was dreaming about a girl I killed."
Miranda stared, stunned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Well, not literally. I did not take a knife and stab her through the heart, but I might as well have. She killed herself because of me."
"Oh my." She remembered the old man who had ranted at her in her house in London and the sad tale he had told. Obviously he was not the only one who was haunted by the incident. "What happened?"
"I seduced her," Devin said, his voice filled with self-loathing. "I was in Brighton—avoiding my creditors, I believe. And I met Constance. I thought she was an experienced woman. She was a friend of Leona's, older than most of the other girls. I assumed—well, I never realized she was a maiden. She was pretty, and I wanted her. Leona was keeping me dancing on a string at the time—teasing and baiting and not giving in."
He paused and looked at her a little guiltily.“I apologize. Hardly the sort of thing I should be saying to you."
"Why not? I am your wife."
"Not fit conversation for a lady."
"Ah, but you forget that I am not really a lady. Please, go on. I want to hear about it."
He nodded and started again, his gaze shifting away from her. "I was frustrated, and she was there and attractive. And I wanted her. I gave up on Leona. I thought that I would never have her. Oh, hell, my motives were even lower—I hoped, deep down, that if I chose another it would make Leona notice me, make her realize that she was missing her chance. So I paid court to Constance. I charmed her. I thought—I thought she understood the game, that she had done it before. Until she lay with me. Then, of course, I realized what a mistake I had made. I should have stopped then, but I did not." His mouth twisted grimly. "It was far easier to take my pleasure. Then Leona came to me. My scheme had worked, I suppose. She wanted me, and I stopped seeing Constance. Another evidence of my weakness. An honorable man would have asked her to marry him, having taken the virginity of a virtuous girl. But I did not. All I could think or see or feel was Leona."
Miranda's heart twisted at the recital of his passion for Leona, but she pushed the feeling aside. Devin's pain was more important right now.