Lord Haversham Takes Command by Heidi Ashworth

left to do now but leave Harry alone with his deceit for she had never heard such a pack of lies in all her life.

Chapter Six
    Harry had never been so indiscreet in all his life. What was it about Mira that caused him to come so undone? He had let slip too much, more than he should have, more, even, than was safe, yet far less than he wished. If she guessed the truth as to his mission in the Queen’s secret service … should she spread it about … the consequences did not bear thinking on.
    Once the door had closed behind her and she had descended the stairs to take breakfast, he felt it safe to quit the room, accompanied by a better hidden pistol, to check the passageway for signs of anything untoward. He then took the servants’ stairs to the kitchen and on out the back door to do a circuit of the grounds before he returned to his room and down the proper set of stairs to the dining room where he found the entire Crenshaw family seated just as they had been the afternoon prior.
    “I bid you a ravishing good morning!” he chirped in his best Bertie intonations. “It would seem there is something especially welcoming about this table as it’s the selfsame one at which you were seated yesterday.” He favored Mira with a hint of a smile in memory of how he had kissed her under said selfsame table, but she looked pointedly away, staring at her cup of hot chocolate as if it had grown horns.
    “You are not wrong,” George stated with his usual arrogance.
    “Come, have some coffee,” Lady Crenshaw insisted.
    “Delighted,” Harry said. “I find there was a dreadful racket all the night long. I’m simply exhausted! It shall require nothing less than an entire pot to put me to rights.” As Lady Crenshaw poured out a steaming cup, Harry stole another glance at Mira to see if she appreciated this reference to her interrupted night’s sleep, but she had turned pointedly away from him and was now staring at her cousin as if the sudden growth of a set of horns had spread to him from the crockery.
    “George,” she said, “it is rumored that you have bought another race horse.”
    “Yes, a Thoroughbred of the finest quality,” he replied with a nod. “I had intended to race him at the next assize-week, but I find I am needed in London.”
    “But of course you intend to appear for at least a portion of this year’s Season, Your Grace,” Lady Crenshaw admonished, “as it is Mira’s come-out.” She gave her husband a bit of a nudge to the elbow whereupon he echoed his wife’s sentiments.
    “It wouldn’t be a London Season without the Duke of Marcross, would it?” he replied with all the charm for which Sir Anthony was noted. Though he was nobody’s sycophant, Harry knew Mira’s father to have the tidiest manners of his class.
    “Naturally, it is for Mira’s come-out that I dashed about so in order to be ready in time, but I do regret leaving behind Witch’s Brew,” George said without the slightest thought for Mira’s feelings. This time, when Harry stole a glance at her, she met his gaze in a moment of affable accord before looking away again with a jerk.
    “Such a love story!” Harry said with a sip of his coffee. “I wager Witch’s Brew misses you more than anyone, those present not to be excluded. In point of fact, I should go so far as to suggest that Miss Crenshaw feels the pain of that cruel separation more than most.”
    Mira, her cup to her lips, attempted to hide her sudden mirth, but Harry knew she needn’t have spared the feelings of the Duke who continued to speak of her as if she were anywhere but seated across the table from him.
    “Miss Crenshaw, as always, has my best interests at heart,” he said. “It is for this reason, as well as my father’s wish, that I find her an acceptable choice as my bride.” He would have said more save for the clatter of porcelain cups being hurriedly joined to their saucers all around the table.
    Harry was a bit taken aback by the reaction of the