My intention is to improve our reputation, not destroy it.” Although, admittedly, it was bothersome that the blasted viscount, who was well known for his exploits with women, seemed to find her more annoying than appealing. Not that she cared. “As we will probably spend a great deal of time together, I should prefer not to waste that time arguing.”
“Oh, but there is much to be said for arguing with the right man. Especially when you can make him see the error of his ways.” She smiled in a completely wicked manner and Miranda could see the family resemblance between mother and son. “Don’t you agree?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
The older woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Didn’t you argue with your late husband?”
“My late husband and I were usually in agreement.” Indeed, as she looked back on her years with John she could scarcely remember fighting with him at all although surely they must have on occasion. No, life with John seemed rather perfect in hindsight.
“How very interesting,” Lady Fairborough murmured.
But then Miranda scarcely ever argued with anyone about anything. Until, of course, she had crossed paths with the annoying Lord Stillwell. She did have to admit, their clashes had left her somewhat invigorated. Not that he was the right man or anything near that.
“You must forgive Winfield, Lady Garret. He is not usually so . . . so . . .”
“Stiff and stodgy and annoyed and outraged?”
“Oh, I did say that, didn’t I?” Lady Fairborough winced.
Miranda laughed. “Indeed you did. And you called him a stick-in-the-mud as well.”
“Oh dear.” She sighed. “The problem with having sons is that eventually they become men. One day they are sweet and adorable little boys and the next day they are men with all those annoying qualities men, particularly men of responsibility, tend to have.” She met Miranda’s gaze directly. “Winfield has a great deal of responsibility.”
“Does he?”
“He does indeed.” Lady Fairborough nodded firmly. “You see the plan was always to divide the family responsibilities between Grayson and Winfield, but Grayson instead went off to make his fortune in America. After a while, it was obvious to all of us that Winfield would have to carry on alone. Lord Fairborough has made a concerted effort through the years to ease him into the duties that will one day fall entirely on his shoulders. To that end, he has completely taken over the management of the family’s properties and business investments. He takes his responsibilities quite seriously.”
“So I see.”
“He has done an excellent job of it. His father is quite proud of him. And for very nearly the first time in his life, my husband is free to do the things he enjoys. He has an outstanding collection of rare manuscripts and he can now spend a great deal of his time doing whatever it is he does with them.” She leaned forward in a confidential manner. “I suspect he does little more than engage in correspondence with other collectors, either trying to purchase something new or boasting about what he has. Although there are a few manuscripts in Latin he has been trying to translate for years.” She wrinkled her nose. “Pointless, really, as he was never good at Latin. Still, one does try to support one’s husband’s pursuits, futile though they may be.”
“It is fortunate they were saved from the fire.”
“Oh my, yes.” She shuddered. “I don’t even want to think how devastated he would have been had they been destroyed. The things that we did lose were bad enough.” She paused for a long moment and Miranda wondered if she was thinking about all those family treasures that were lost. “You must understand, Lady Garret, Winfield has not been the same since the fire.”
“I suspect none of you are the same,” Miranda said slowly. “I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to lose those things that are irreplaceable.”
“Life goes on though, doesn’t it? And we must carry on to the best of our abilities.”
“Of course.”
“I never dreamed I would call Winfield stodgy or stiff.” Lady Fairborough heaved a heartfelt sigh. “But his responsibilities seem to weigh heavier on him now than they did before the fire. It’s to be expected, I suppose, but he’s always been so lighthearted and amusing and witty. Women in particular have always found him charming. Extremely so.”
“So I have heard,” Miranda said dryly.
“Are you speaking of his reputation?”
“It’s nothing more than gossip, mind you. There have been stories . . . here and there. . . .” Miranda’s voice trailed off helplessly. It was one thing to discuss a man’s amorous reputation with a friend and quite another to talk about it with his mother.
“I am well aware of them. Most of them, anyway. Although I daresay there could be those I have yet to hear of, which is probably for the best.” Lady Fairborough chuckled. “He did have a bit of a misspent youth, but then what spirited young man doesn’t?”
Miranda smiled weakly.
“However, he never acted dishonorably, he never ruined a young woman’s life and he was never involved in any sort of unforgivable scandals. As far as I know, that is, and I daresay I would know.” She shook her head. “You would be surprised at the delight some people take in telling you the most dreadful stories about your offspring. However, most of his dubious misdeeds are long behind him.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Unless you are referring to his engagements, which admittedly have not cast him in the best light.”
Miranda drew a deep breath. “One does wonder . . .”
“As is only natural.” Lady Fairborough pressed her lips together in a firm line. “But things are not always as they appear, my dear.”
“It’s been my experience that they rarely are.”
“How very wise of you to understand that.” She refilled Miranda’s cup. “The earl and I haven’t been abroad in years. We intend to travel when all is settled here.” She handed her back her cup. “Including our son.”
“What do you mean by settled?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing in particular.” She shrugged.
“Grayson is home now and will soon be wed. I simply wish to see both of my boys settled and happy.”
“As any mother would,” Miranda said cautiously.
“Have you ever considered that there is something to be said for a wicked man?”
Miranda started. “Well, I—”
“Lord Fairborough was quite wicked when we first met.” The countess stirred sugar into her cup. “I must tell you there is nothing more fun than having a wicked man.”
Miranda choked on her tea.
“And then”—Lady Fairborough flashed a smug smile—“reforming him.”
Miranda cleared her throat. “Forgive me for being blunt, but why are you telling me all this?”
“Why?” Lady Fairborough’s eyes widened innocently. “No reason in particular, I suppose. I was simply making idle chatter. The mention of Winfield’s engagements did lead me to think about wicked reputations in general and well, there you have it.” She shrugged. “It does seem like forever since I had tea with a friend.” She reached over and patted Miranda’s hand. “And I do hope we will be friends.”
Miranda smiled with relief. “I would like that.”
“Now.” The countess straightened and picked up a biscuit. “You should try the biscuits, they are excellent.”
Miranda selected a biscuit and took a bite. It was indeed very good.
“Do