CHAPTER SEVENIt was really such a beautiful morning the next day that Miranda could not bear to travel in her stuffy carriage.
She told her father that she would walk to the Hall and set off early with a straw hat on her head to protect her from the sun’s rays.
Although only eight o’clock, it was already warm and sultry. The sky was pure blue overhead without any clouds and Miranda sang to herself as she made her way across the fields.
If she had known that, just a few miles away in a hotel in Malvern, slept the man who had been the cause of her decision to leave London so suddenly, she would not have been so carefree or happy.
Lord Brookfield had arrived at the Spa Hotel in the early hours of the morning, having almost worn out the team of horses on his hired carriage.
It had taken h
