“Daniel,” he corrected, leaning down to whisper close to her ear. “What sort of ring do you think Miranda would like?” he asked conspiratorially. “Diamonds? Emeralds? Sapphires? Rubies?”
“An old one,” Lady St. Germaine told him, recalling that the betrothal ring of the Duchesses of Sussex was a large, beautifully set square-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds dating back to the time of Charles II. The dowager duchess had never worn it. She’d preferred a large diamond surrounded by dozens of smaller diamonds, but she’d delighted in showing the emerald off and in owning it.
“What a coincidence!” Daniel laughed once again. “For I happen to be in possession of a large quantity of old family jewelry I think she’ll love.”
“The dowager duchess isn’t going to like parting with her jewelry,” Lady St. Germaine warned.
“My mother understands duty and tradition. And the dowager Duchesses of Sussex know that relinquishing the Sussex family jewels is part of their duty. It’s traditionally done upon the announcement of the impending marriage of the sitting duke or his heir, but since Miranda and I wed without announcing it, my mother will relinquish the jewelry as soon as I inform her of my nuptials.”
“Learning you’ve married my daughter should send her into raptures,” Lady St. Germaine remarked dryly.
Daniel cracked a smile. “It should,” he said. “She’s been trying to marry me off for the past three years.” He looked at his new mother-in-law. “Besides, she’ll retain her title as dowager duchess and keep all of her considerable fortune in personal jewelry.”
“That’s small consolation for the fortune she’ll be losing.”
“But she’ll have the daughter-in-law she’s always wanted.” He leaned over unexpectedly and kissed Miranda’s mother on the cheek, before turning to exit the Blue Salon. “And I’ll have the wife I love. Trust me,” he said. “Everything will turn out fine.”
* * *
Miranda stood at her bedroom window and watched him leave. It broke her heart, but she loved Daniel enough to let him go. She had known for years that he didn’t want to be married, and she had no right to hold him to his vows.
Especially when she knew he didn’t remember making them.
“That is the last time I lie to your husband for you, Miranda,” her mother said from the open doorway.
“What?” Miranda turned to look at her mother.
“I said that if you wish to hide from your husband, you will have to find some other way to put him off your trail,” Lady St. Germaine repeated. “I won’t be used in this way again.”
“My hus—” Miranda sputtered. “Mother, he’s not—”
“Yes, he is,” Lady St. Germaine contradicted.
“How did you find out?”
“I got it from the horse’s mouth. Daniel told me.” Her mother pinned her with a glance. “Sorry I missed the wedding. I would have been there had I been invited. Of course, I’m only your mother and your only living relative.”
Miranda shook her head. “How could he tell you about it? He didn’t remember it.”
“He does now.” Lady St. Germaine walked over to the window, took hold of her daughter’s hand, and pressed the Duke of Sussex’s signet ring into it. “He asked me to give you this for safekeeping until he can do better.”
Miranda opened her fist and stared at the ring, then closed her fingers around it and pressed it to her heart. “He remembered.”
“He did indeed,” Lady St. Germaine confirmed. “He also asked that you be ready when he arrives to pick you up later this afternoon in order that you may conclude your business at St. Michael’s.”
Miranda exhaled the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Concluding business at St. Michael’s could only mean that he intended to record the marriage. “What should I do?” Miranda turned to her mother.
Lady St. Germaine’s heart skipped a beat. Miranda hadn’t asked her advice in years. Not since she’d inherited her father’s title. “I suggest you bathe and put on your prettiest dress so you’ll be ready when he arrives …” She glanced at her daughter. “Unless you wish to continue avoiding him
and pretending your marriage never happened.”
Miranda shook her head. “No, of course not.”
“The green merino day dress Madam Racine made for you is nice,” Lady St. Germaine murmured. “If I were you, I’d wear that.”
* * *
“Thank God you’re all right.” Colin greeted Daniel an hour or so later than scheduled, as his butler, Britton, showed him into the study at Number Twenty-seven Park Lane. “It’s good to see you, Daniel. We were beginning to get concerned.”