Read Lord Haversham Takes Command for Free Online

in dismay when he cantered up to the house as the family boarded their carriage.
    “My dearest Miss Crenshaw, I am enchanted,” he said as he swung down from his seat.
    She suppressed a shudder and gave him her hand to kiss with hopes his mouth would reach her skin prior to the exceedingly sharp tip of his nose — a sentiment of which she immediately repented when his warm, moist lips found their quarry.
    “George, ah, I mean to say Your Grace, how fortunate we are that you are to accompany us on our journey,” Mira said. The gratified look on her mother’s face did not escape her and caused Mira to suspect that this particular meeting was one Lady Crenshaw had known of for some time.
    “Yes, your esteemed father agreed, upon receipt of my missive suggesting it, that it would be best if I saw you safely to your destination. Sir Anthony, my good man,” George added, turning to her father with a hearty shake of his cousin’s hand, recalling to Mira’s mind that her father was, since the death of her great-uncle, heir to the present Duke. Being that George was of an age with her elder brother, she wondered how her father tolerated being treated in such a superior fashion and fancied that she detected a shadow cross his face.
    “Shall we be off then?” Lady Crenshaw suggested with an arch look for her husband. The fact that she was miffed by George’s failure to greet her was evident in her expression. His decided prejudice against Lady Crenshaw’s inadequate pedigree was one of the reasons Mira despised him so. She suspected the matter, to her mother, didn’t much signify, but Mira had reason to believe she had other reasons for disliking George. Though she wasn’t precisely sure what her mother’s reasons were specifically, there were plenty from which to choose.
    She suppressed another shudder as her cousin handed her into the carriage and settled into the velvet squabs, relieved that George would be taking most of the journey via horseback. As always, she chose to be seated next to her father, in part to have the chance to be near him, but also to witness how her mother’s expression softened as Sir Anthony went through the ritual of asking if his wife was quite comfortable and if there were anything she needed. Only then and not before would he take his own seat across from her, whereupon he would lean back, his hat low on his brow so as to cover his eyes, and would at once fall asleep.
    It hadn’t taken Mira long to determine her father was merely feigning slumber since her mother’s soft chuckle would immediately rouse her father who would then, more often than not, reach across the carriage to take his wife’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It was then, and only then that he would turn to Mira to ensure that she was properly settled as well. Mira had asked both of her parents on various occasions what it all meant, but their reply of “It’s just a little joke of Grandmama’s from years ago,” was not terribly illuminating.
    One day she would draw the full story from their lips, but for now she watched the ritual play out with enjoyment as she dreamed about a husband of her own with whom she would share secret smiles. It was not surprising in the least that her imaginary Harry should come to mind with the thought since the single glimpse she had of him was one in which his eyes had spoken volumes. Perhaps someday she would have the courage to draw the full story of that speaking glance from his lips as well, and she shivered with delight at the prospect.
    Though they planned to suspend their travel at the halfway point to spend the night in an inn, the journey to London from Prospero Park took only the better part of a day. However, it was clear from the comments her parents made each and every time they made it that it had been a longer one in their time. As always, the discussion in the carriage revolved around how much improved the roads were, how much smoother the carriages were these days,