Suzanna Medeiros

Lady Hathaway’s Indecent Proposal

Book 1 in the Hathaway Heirs series

Twelve years have passed since Miranda Hathaway ended her courtship with Andrew Osborne and married the older, but much wealthier, Viscount Hathaway. It is only one week after her husband’s death and Miranda cannot ignore the temptation to have a taste of what she threw away all those years ago when she followed her parents’ wishes. But to entice the man she never stopped loving, she will have to act quickly.

Now the Earl of Sanderson, Andrew is no longer the same man who once believed in love. When Miranda asks him to help her conceive a child—one whom she means to pass off as the next Hathaway heir—he sees her deceit as proof that she is not the same woman he once knew. However, he cannot ignore the temptation to finally have her in his bed.

Miranda knows she is infertile, but her deception gives her three weeks with Andrew. He plans to use that time to finally consign Miranda Hathaway to the past, while she hopes to build memories that will last her a lifetime.

Lady Hathaway’s Indecent Proposal

Hathaway Heirs ~ book 1

A novella

By:

Suzanna Medeiros

Copyright

ISBN # 978-0-9918237-3-4

Copyright © 2013 Saozinha Medeiros

Edited by Victory Editing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Where such permission is sufficient, the author grants the right to strip any DRM which may be applied to this work.

Dedication

To all my writing friends, who are too numerous to list.

Thank you for your inspiration and support over the years.

Chapter One

Until that morning the Earl of Sanderson would have said he was long past making a fool of himself for Miranda Hathaway, yet here he was, following her butler into the drawing room of her London town house. He told himself it was only curiosity that led him to accept her request for a meeting. After all, they hadn’t seen one another in twelve years, so why on earth would she want to see him now?

He took in the room’s ornate furnishings as the butler bowed and left to fetch his mistress. Viscount Hathaway had always made a point of displaying his vast wealth at every opportunity, as was evidenced by the amount of gilt in the room. He wondered if Miranda approved of the decor, or if she, too, found it lacking in taste. The old Miranda would have believed the latter. Or so he’d thought at the time, but that was before she’d broken it off with him to marry the much wealthier older man.

Unease settled in the pit of his stomach, and annoyed at the sign of weakness, he moved to the window and looked out onto the fashionable Mayfair neighborhood. It was early for a social call and the road was quiet. No doubt most of Miranda’s neighbors were still abed, recovering from whatever entertainments had kept them up the evening before. He would have been sleeping as well if Miranda’s message hadn’t arrived last night before he’d left for his club.

He resisted the urge to turn around and leave, just as she had done that last time they’d seen one another. Once again, he was at a disadvantage with her. In her house, at her summons, no knowledge of what this meeting was about. He was not, however, the same untried youth he’d been back then. If Miranda assumed so, she would be more than a little surprised.

He sensed her approach and turned in time to see her enter the room. He couldn’t help but notice she still moved with the same grace she’d possessed as a young woman, setting the
ton
ablaze during her first season with her beauty and unaffected charm. It had been inevitable that she’d captured his interest as well. But the new widow standing across the room from him now, clad in stark black, was far different from the girl of eighteen who’d worn only pale colors.

That was a lifetime ago.

“My lord,” she said, executing a fluid curtsey. Her expression gave no hint as to why she had sent for him.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement and watched in silence as she sat on one end of the ornate settee. A chair was positioned at an angle from her and it was clear she expected him to use it.

A need to ruffle her impassive bearing had him remaining silent and ignoring the chair. He moved past her and sat, instead, beside her on the settee. He left a respectable distance between them, but the way she stiffened told him she hadn’t expected him to sit so close. It was self-indulgent, but he felt a small measure of triumph at her discomfort.

He watched, more than a little surprised, as she collected herself, smoothing away all signs of discomfort. Her body relaxed, her expression becoming one of polite cordiality as she held herself with an almost unnatural stillness. It appeared Miranda Hathaway had learned to control the youthful exuberance she’d once possessed. He wasn’t sure whether to applaud her for her newfound reserve or mourn the loss of that once vibrant, impetuous young woman.

Silence stretched between them for several seconds before she turned to face him. He was struck once again, as he had been all those years ago, by her beauty. Her dark brown hair and the unrelieved black of her dress called attention to her pale coloring, making it seem as though she were carved from ivory. Her gray eyes were larger than he remembered, but she was also much thinner than when he’d known her. Almost painfully so. He almost asked if she was well but resisted the impulse. He had no desire to hear about how much she mourned the loss of the husband whose funeral had been only the week before.

The curve of her breasts and her unfashionably plump mouth were the only things about her that were still full. His eyes flickered downward and he remembered with unexpected vividness just how those full lips had felt under his. He’d been with many other women since they’d parted ways, but he’d never enjoyed kissing anyone as much as he had Miranda. Thoughts of how she could put that mouth to another use sent a wave of unwelcome heat through him.

He’d miscalculated. He’d wanted to set Miranda off balance, but being this close to her was having an unwanted effect on him.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” she said, cutting through the uncomfortable silence. “I know it is early, but I can ring for tea if you haven’t eaten yet this morning.”

His wayward thoughts under control, he met her emotionless gaze with one of his own. “I think we can dispense with the niceties. We both know this isn’t a social call.”

Those luscious lips tilted ever so slightly at the corners. “I see you are still as direct as always.”

“And I can see you’ve taken to hiding behind social conventions. You were never one to dance around a subject. You asked me to visit and, despite my reservations, I came. You clearly have something you wish to discuss with me.”

He was surprised when she stood.

“This was a mistake.” She took a step toward the doorway. “Forgive me for inconveniencing you.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, he rose from the settee and moved to block her path. She stopped but kept her eyes averted.

“Miranda.”

She didn’t move. Against his better judgment, he placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. They stood that way for several long moments, during which he was painfully aware of the small woman before him. The woman who, he now knew, still had the power to make him want her. She, on the other hand, had the appearance of a cornered, frightened animal.

He dropped his hand and kept his voice even, sensing she was a hairsbreadth away from bolting. “Why did you wish to see me?”

She hesitated and then he saw the resolve form in her eyes.

“Very well,” she said before taking a step back.

She moved around him to the door, and this time he didn’t stop her—he knew she wouldn’t attempt to escape again. He expected her to ring for the tea she’d offered him and was taken aback when she closed the door and turned to face him again.

He raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing. She leaned back against the door for a moment before straightening and looking at him directly. Just as she used to do.

“You are aware my husband passed away last week.”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Please accept my condolences.”

He should have offered them when she’d first come into the room, but after a nod of acknowledgment, she continued as though she hadn’t noticed his breach in manners.

“The reason I asked you here has to do with his passing.”

“Oh? I’ll admit I have no idea why you’d want to see me.”

Her smile was fleeting. “No, of course not.”

She moved back to the settee and lowered herself onto it. This time when he followed, he didn’t repeat his mistake of sitting next to her. But if she guessed at his reason for choosing the chair, she showed no sign of it.

“There is no delicate way to say this, so I must be blunt.”

Her words, as well as her resolute manner, sent every one of his senses into high alert. He wasn’t sure if she was aware she’d used those same words all those years ago when she’d told him she was marrying someone else. He was starting to regret preventing her from leaving the room.

“With my husband’s nephew due to inherit the entirety of his estate, I will have to rely on his generosity in future.”

Andrew had stayed as far away as possible from Hathaway—had tried not to think about him outside of those times he’d had to see him in the House of Lords—so he had no way of knowing if he’d ever met the man’s heir.

“Given how important Hathaway’s wealth was to you and your parents, surely you don’t expect me to believe provisions for your future weren’t made before your marriage.”

She didn’t react to the sarcasm in his tone. “I won’t need to resort to begging in the street. But no one imagined I wouldn’t provide my husband with an heir, so the settlement outlined for that eventuality is a small one.” She hesitated and her eyes slid away from his before she continued. “I have spoken to our solicitor and he informs me that in cases where the widow is still of childbearing years, it is customary to wait a few months to ensure there is no heir on the way.”

He couldn’t stop his gaze from moving to her abdomen, but given the loose fit of her gown, it was impossible to see if it concealed a small bump. The wave of bitterness that rose at her words caught him off guard.

“I fail to see what this has to do with me.”

He started to stand, but she reached across the small space that separated them and laid a hand on his knee. Her touch froze him to the spot and his awareness of the intimacy of their current situation intensified.

She moved back and clasped her hands sedately in her lap, but she hadn’t been quick enough to keep him from seeing the telltale tremble in her fingers. “I am not with child,” she said as though nothing of import had just happened, “but I am hoping that will not be the case for long.”

His mind was still on the unwanted rush of desire her touch had elicited, and so it took him several seconds before he realized what she was suggesting. Air rushed out of his lungs as the full implication of her words hit him. Why she’d summoned him here so early when no one would be about in the street to see his arrival. Why she’d closed the door to make sure the servants wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

He welcomed the anger that rose swiftly within him, but he refused to let her see it. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she could command more than polite curiosity from him.

“I am afraid I still do not know what any of this has to do with me. I am sure your solicitor would be able to advise you much better than I.”

A hint of frustration crossed her face before she masked it. Despite her attempt to appear detached and businesslike, the revealing expression told him she was more emotionally invested in their conversation than she wanted him to know.

“You were never one to be so obtuse, Andrew.”

“You will excuse me, Lady Hathaway, if I ask for some of that bluntness you promised me.”

Her control was slipping, for this time he clearly saw her wince when he’d used her title. The narrowing of her eyes was minute, but she hadn’t been able to hide it. She didn’t speak for several long moments, long enough for him to think he had won. He was surprised, therefore, when she straightened, drew back her shoulders and met his gaze squarely.

“I want to have a child and I would like you to be the father of that child.”

Disbelief almost robbed him of words. When he opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of her proposal, she continued, forestalling him.

“I am under no illusion that we can continue our former relationship. I will make no demands of you and no one will know the child is yours.”