Lord Haversham Takes Command Read Free Page A

was better than George.”
    Mira cocked her head and tried to form a bitterless reply. “Yes, I do recall that he
was
better than George. Pray tell, why should he be favored for my hand in marriage whether Harry came up to scratch or not?”
    “Oh, Mira!” her mother scolded. “Why such vulgar language when you have every word in the English language at your command? That being said, I insist your father address that question.” And with that she turned away and paced to the other side of the room.
    Sir Anthony gave his daughter a look that bordered on sheepish and cleared his throat. “You see, child, until George was born, I was next in line for the old Duke’s title, he being my uncle and I his only living heir. When I married your mother, it was with the understanding that she would one day be my duchess … ”
    “Duchess, I declare!” Lady Crenshaw cried, spinning about. “You know well enough how little I cared for such things!”
    “Yes, yes, ’tis true,” Sir Anthony said as he shot his wife a barely concealed look of adoration. “Your mother didn’t care to be a duchess nor I a duke, but the possibility was there. So, when my uncle recovered from a long illness from which he was expected to expire and suddenly took a new wife, it wasn’t long until a son came along to replace the one he had lost only a short time before.”
    “George,” Mira said.
    Lord Crenshaw cleared his throat again. “Yes, George. Before my uncle finally did shuffle off this mortal coil, he insisted that the two of you should wed.”
    Adrian and Stephen shot to their feet, their faces alive with disgust, and quit the room. Their departure was followed by a loud sniff from her mother, causing Mira to wonder if there were more to the story than what was being said.
    “But it was just a moment ago you suggested
Harry
and I were to wed,” Mira replied in a leading fashion designed to produce elucidation.
    “Exactly. Insisting that you were meant for Harry was the most effective way at your tender age — I believe you were only ten or eleven years old at the time — to stave off George’s father,” her mother said with a sigh. “As matters stood, he was already far too involved with your upbringing. Had he reason to doubt that one day you would be anything but Duchess of Marcross, his demands would have proved intolerable, up to and including your removal from our home so as to be under his very nose. To think that anyone would suppose I should allow my daughter to be raised by that woman … ”
    Again Mira felt as if there was much left unsaid, but she sensed the subject was a painful one and, as such, did not push for further explanations.
    “I see. So, if I am not to wed Harry — and who should wish to?” she asked with a voice that choked a little — “then I am all but promised to George, whom I despise with hatred unabated!”
    For once her mother did not scold her for exaggerating the case. “Not exactly, however, that is the light in which George sees things. I must say that we fully expected the matter to be dropped when the old Duke died, but it would seem George has decided you are his due, and I’m afraid he is rather accustomed to his wishes being fulfilled.”
    “But Mother, how could you? You, who would settle for nothing less than a love match! Don’t you wish for me what you have with Father?” she cried as if her parents’ devotion to one another had never been anything but altogether appealing and desirable. “Papa, what have you to say to this piece of nonsense?”
    “Only that I, like your mother, want what’s best for you.”
    Lady Crenshaw went to her daughter’s side and put her arms about her. “Mira, when I married your father, I was twenty years old and firmly on the shelf. What’s more, my father was a vicar. Your father, however, is grandson, nephew, and heir to a duke. Naturally we wanted to look high for you. In that respect, as well as many others, Harry seemed the perfect