Lord Haversham Takes Command by Heidi Ashworth Page A

Crenshaws as he had feared Mira’s betrothal to her cousin to be a
fait accompli
. Hope rose a bit in his heart as he assessed the faces around him. Sir Anthony looked mildly surprised, as if he hadn’t expected quite so precipitate an announcement. That, at least, was something in Harry’s favor. Lady Crenshaw bore a look of long-suffering as if she wasn’t entirely sure she approved of a match between her daughter and the Duke, a nearly unquestionable vote against it. Mira, however, looked as if she simply hadn’t heard what George had said as she once again took up her cup and swallowed the dregs of her hot chocolate.
    “I believe that’s the last of my breakfast,” she said with a cheery smile. “Shall we be on our way?”
    “Oh, but Haaaa … Bertie hasn’t had a bite to eat,” Lady Crenshaw said.
    “Really?” Mira asked. “What a pity as I am persuaded he is possessed of a strong desire to be seated inside the carriage this morning, and it seems as if George shall most likely get there first.”
    Harry was jerked from his feigned somnolence by this pronouncement. Why, it was almost as if Mira wished to be seated next to George all the day long. And here Harry thought that they had an understanding after his making a clean breast of things such a short time ago. Nearly a clean breast, rather. He looked a question at Mira and was answered by a look of challenge in return.
    Could she be playing at seeming disinterested in him? If so, it was not Mira’s usual style. Unlike most young ladies of Harry’s acquaintance, she was the sort of girl who said what she meant and meant what she said. It was one of the qualities he loved best in her. He tossed his napkin to the table and rose to his feet whilst he attempted to remember just what it was she did say after he had confessed to her so much more than he should have.
    He was so engaged with his thoughts, he barely noticed George had already risen to his feet and taken Mira by the arm. They were fully out in the yard before Harry realized he lagged behind the entire group, that he had, with Mira’s acceptance and perhaps even approval, lost out on being seated beside her for the duration and that he, as of yet, had not bespoken his mount. By the time the horse was saddled and Harry mounted, the Crenshaw carriage was all but lost behind a cloud of dust.
    Harry considered breaking his whip on his horse’s back in order to catch them up but was too occupied with the question of what exactly had gone wrong to put any further plan into action. He had told her all he could, more, even, than he should have and had believed her to understand. Even if she did not hold him in the highest regard, she would surely prefer him by her side in the carriage than her cousin any day of the week, of this Harry was quite certain.
    He owned once again that it wasn’t like Mira to play games, but it seemed she was doing exactly that. Faced with the prospect of a long day in the saddle alongside the carriage with nothing but hope to sustain him held little allure. Instead, he could be in London hours ahead of them as he drew danger away from those he esteemed as well as his own family — better, even. As such, Harry decided to sheer off and complete his journey the way he had started it: entirely alone.
    Upon his arrival in the city, Harry rode directly to Claridge’s, opting to delay paying a call to Haversham House to face his mother’s displeasure at his decision to lodge elsewhere to some point in the future, the further away the better. Once ensconced in his room as private citizen Samuel Linford, he was free to eat a hearty meal by the fire, without danger of being tripped, shot at, or slapped under the table. That being said, he was more than happy to admit he had yet to pass the time under a table so pleasantly, even when he took into account his rainy day fort-building with the Holland covers as a boy.
    As the promised coded knock at the door did not immediately occur,