Quinn, Julia - The Secret Diaries of Miranda Cheever2.txt by The Secret Diaries of Miranda Cheever

Author:The Secret Diaries of Miranda Cheever [Cheever, The Secret Diaries of Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-12-24T00:38:29.330000+00:00

“You don’t need to say it,” Miranda had replied, blushing furiously.

“Well, you did.”

“I know.” Heaven above, she knew. She could rarely think of anything else.

“But really, sweetling, what is wrong with the viscount? He seems a rather nice fellow, and he has assured us that he will be able to provide for you and look after you properly.”

Miranda gritted her teeth. Turner had stopped by the evening before to introduce himself to her grandparents. Trust him to make her grandmother fall in love with him in under an hour. That man ought to be kept away from women of all ages.

“And he’s quite handsome, I think,” her grandmother continued. “Don’t you think so? Of course you think so. After all, his is not the kind of face that some think is handsome and some don’t. His is the kind that everyone finds handsome. Don’t you agree?”

Miranda did agree, but she wasn’t about to say so.

“Of course, handsome is as handsome does, and so many well-formed people have ill-formed minds.”

Miranda wasn’t even going to touch that one.

“But he appears to have all his wits about him, and he’s quite affable, too. All in all, Miranda, you could do much worse.” When her granddaughter did not reply, she said with uncharacteristic severity, “And I don’t think you’ll be able to do better.”

It stung, but it was true. Still, Miranda said, “I could remain unmarried.”

Since her grandmother did not view that as a viable option, she did not dignify it with a response. “I’m not talking about his title,” she said sharply. “Or his fortune. He would be a good catch if he hadn’t a farthing.”

Miranda found a way to respond that involved a noncommittal throat sound, a bit of a head shake, a bit of a head twist, and a shrug. And that, she hoped, would be that.

But it wasn’t. The end wasn’t nearly in sight. Turner took up the next round by trying to appeal to her romantic nature. Large bouquets of flowers arrived every two or so hours, every one with a note reading, “Marry me, Miranda.”

Miranda did her best to ignore them, which wasn’t easy, because they soon filled every corner of the house. He made great inroads with her grandmother, however, who was redoubled in her resolve to see her Miranda married to the charming and generous viscount.

Her grandfather tried next, his approach considerably more aggressive. “For the love of God, lassie,” he roared. “Have you lost your mind?”

Since Miranda was no longer quite so certain she knew the answer to that question, she did not reply.

Turner went next, this time making a tactical mistake. He sent a note reading, “I forgive you for hitting me.” Miranda was initially enraged. It was that condescending tone which had caused her to punch him in the first place. Then she recognized it for what it was—a gentle warning. He was not going to put up with her stubbornness for much longer.

On the second day of the siege, she decided she

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